Hunting the Renegade Omega

by M. D. Pentacles

  They’d never shared a woman before, as few females had been expelled from the Krust, and fewer still could take two Alpha’s at once. But this one? This renegade Omega who taunted and teased? He met Silver’s good eye, sharing twin grins. They’d make her take them both.

  And so it was, when they burst through the brush into a clearing, the twin Alphas went first.

  And the Alphas were the first to get caught up in her snare.

  They’d stepped on a hair trigger, and as one, Silver and Balkazar found themselves dangling two feet above the springy loam, tangled in a net. A net which would yield to no amount of snarling or struggling. Not giving under the weight of two furious Alphas drunk on rut. And worse, two Alphas whose limbs were now tangled around each other. The heat of swollen, dribbling flesh pressed against Balkazar’s hip, contained by nothing more than his brother’s form-fitting leather pants.

  One by one, each member of their pack fell to the renegade’s whims. The next to sprint headlong into the clearing, were all three of the pack Betas. Konjo, with his sensitive nose and lithe frame, was ensnared in his own net. Pupils tiny dots of nothing as he strained and reached for the Omega who’d saturated them in her scent, but had yet to make herself seen. Next, Keever and Micha were snapped up together. Micha, whose dark skin bore the raised keloid scars that spoke of his dedication to battle and his loyalty to their pack of miscreants. Second in a fight to none except his Alphas, Micha fought the net the hardest. Snapping and bellowing his impotent rage, trying to pull the rope lattice apart with nothing but sheer, physical prowess—no matter the danger he posed to Keever.

  For his part, Keever didn’t fight. Did nothing, in fact, but watch. Keever was tactician and sniper in one, allowing the much larger Micha to struggle enough for both, his sharp blue eyes scanning the clearing for the one who’d summoned them. And summon them, she had. And they’d fallen for it, each and every one. Without thought. Led by their aching dicks and tightened, imprisoned balls.

  The last to fall—or rather, rise—was Sickle. Their only Omega. A slender, delicate little male whose soft, rational voice played a crucial role in the pack and promised him protection in a place where Omega males were treated poorly, at best. Keeper of balance. Mediator. Sickle was their voice of reason, such as it was this far from the Krust. He was also a talented thief, with his slim hands and agility.

  When all six of the pack were struggling in nets dangling above the ground, the bathing pool that fed the creek rippled. And from the darkness, the renegade rose.

  6

  All here, her foolish, predictable males. Six for her to play with—a fitting number, given her purpose. Given how long the Canicule would last, once it set in. Six males. One for each day of her heat, which would begin in earnest in only a few hours. For this day of frustration and slick wanting was only the beginning. A precursor. Only a taste of how bad the Canicule would get once it was truly upon her… Once the need to breed settled in and her eggs began to drop, if, of course, these Alpha males could match her and fool her cervix into flowering for them.

  Renegade tipped her head back, tasting the still air even as she rose from the bathing pool. Letting the water run over her flat chest… letting it tease all six of her tiny nipples not yet swollen and engorged with milk.

  The scent that reached her nose made her lurch in surprise, for this pack of ruffians and outlaws had an Omega male, and far as she could see he hadn’t been damaged or used for their pleasure. There was no scent of stale cum on his skin, and no bruises marking his hips where rough, careless fingers might have found purchase in abuse. She hummed, for she wouldn’t be held to the same standards, of course, but one had to give his packmates credit. There were so few females beyond the Krust. Omega males usually found very short lives beneath the pounding bodies of males born far stronger than they were. Males born without the gates of reason keeping them in check.

  She flicked a sheet of jet-black, sopping wet hair over her shoulder, revealing herself to be fully naked to their eyes. And for the length of time it took for a bead of water to trace her skin—starting at her collarbone and bumping over and between three pairs of her swollen nipples—she held them rapt and still with nothing but her nude presence.

  When that bead of water slipped lower, disappearing between the folds of her puffy cuntlips, they howled. Bucking and struggling, the males fought to be the first to drink from that tap. An Omega, three Betas, and two Alphas. All had abandoned higher reason. All were enslaved to the beginnings of Canicule, just as she was.

  “Welcome,” Renegade drawled, stepping from her chilly bath, no longer needing the cold to keep her instincts in check. Not when she had six dicks all dripping and ready for her. Not when their nuts were drawn tight within their pelvises, and each and every male she’d claimed couldn’t help but thrust against the ropes, staining the front of their pants with an enticing scent of want.

  “Let us down!” one of the Alphas bellowed, the tone of authority making Renegade’s knees tremble for just a moment.

  But she didn’t spare him even the slightest glance. Went to the Omega first, knowing just how that would incense the Alphas she’d caught. With each step closer to the first of her conquests, Renegade’s thighs squished her pussy lips together. Mashing that little bean and sending slick dripping toward her knees. There was a certain amount of inherent… camaraderie with an Omega, female or no. A certain poetic justice to give him a taste of relief before any of the bigger males could stake their claim.

  And when she ignored the Alphas?

  Oh, yes, that set her pussy to clenching with terrible glee, for no Alpha could forget such a slight, least of all let it go unpunished. Better yet, no Alpha could turn her bones to mush with a purr if they were too angry to even consider doing such a thing.

  Grinning, she produced a blade, slashing at the bonds keeping her Omega male restrained.

  He fell with a satisfying thump! groaning in a soft, yet masculine voice.

  “Up,” she said, standing proud, all six nipples and cunt on full display. “You first.”

  7

  She was on him before he could muster the dexterity to sit up. Pinning him between naked thighs, Renegade straddled the Omega’s belly. Delighting in the sensation of that slender straining dick nudging between her ass cheeks. Stooping, she set her nose to the spot just beneath his chin, inhaling the subtle scent of Omega male before licking at his pulse—just to feel it flutter. Just to feel him shudder and buck.

  “Name?” she asked, dripping all over him. Jet-black hair speckling him with water laced with slick, cunt leaking that purest nectar straight from the source.

  The Omega male groaned, unable to speak, even as he reached for her hips. Trying to push her lower. Trying to fit himself between her thighs and spill before they’d even been introduced.

  Renegade, grinned, swiped her palm through an abundance of slick, and painted her Omega’s lips with it. A silent command for him taste what the Canicule was doing to her. Watching his pupils blow out, widening until any trace of muddy brown was swallowed by black. Infected by her pussy.

  “Name?” she asked again, and this time was rewarded with a breathy response.

  “Sickle, Miss.”

  “Pull your dick out, Sickle.” It was her turn to whine, for taking a position of dominance was as unnatural to an Omega as submission was to an Alpha—if the howling and snarling from her pets was any sort of indication. Her poor little Omega had probably never been chosen first, just as her Alphas had likely never been told to wait. It was… liberating, the games she played. Even for the stress they caused—because of the stress they caused. That delicious, errant need for conflict and tension that had been at least partially responsible for her banishment… and the loss of her glorious, glossy black tail.

  “Miss—”

  “Did I stutter?” Renegade hissed, old hurts seeing her set her teeth to the hollow beneath his chin. Threatening to break the skin as the Canicule demanded she do. “Take
your prick in hand and do something with it.”

  Even submissive as he was, the Omega male didn’t need telling twice. And, fumbling with the front of his leather breeches, he did just that. Freeing his modest dick already hot and ready against her thigh, Sickle paused only to send his cock through her sodden folds. Once, twice, three times—and she’d had enough.

  She sat back, sinking down, swallowing his pole to the root. She’d chosen well for her first. Chosen the male with enough dick to spread her without causing pain. Stretching her delicate flesh around his member, while allowing her to focus solely on her own pleasure.

  And at her back—which was the only thing she’d bothered to give her pet Alphas—came the most delicious dominant bellow of denied rage. As one, both Alphas demanded she stop riding their Omega brother, demanded she stop chasing her first orgasm since the onset of her Canicule and go to them.

  Renegade threw back her head and laughed, hips picking up a delightful, selfish rhythm. Squelching around the Omega cock buried deep as poor little Sickle could get, she ignored her pets. Inciting bellows of rage that only hastened her orgasm for the submissive fear they inspired.

  Gathering his hands, she fixed sweating fingers to the lowest of her nipples, demanding he, “pinch them hard as you can,” while she set to work on the highest pair. Each pass of her hips bringing her closer to climax as she ground her clit into Sickle’s pelvis. The zipper of his pants biting her asscheeks and sending a painful little nip straight through her core.

  When she came, it wasn’t the earth-shattering convulsions she needed but a delightful little shiver speaking only of things to come. She came because her Omega couldn’t contain himself. Because he squeezed blackened eyes shut and gripped her hips hard as he could. Knotting her even before he spilled all that frothy seed, expanding her aching flesh at just the right moment to send her spiraling into bliss.

  And still, at her back, the Alphas roared, filling the clearing with the scent of their desire and their rage, for she’d allowed herself to be knotted. An insult they could scarcely abide.

  8

  “Mmm,” Renegade hummed, patting Sickle’s cheek. “Thanks.”

  Blinking lazy and doe-eyed, the Omega male tried to purr for her. Tried to show his appreciation for that short, wild ride and the honor of tasting her first by producing a frail little warble high in his chest. Taking deep, steadying breaths, Sickle paused for only a moment, before the Canicule was on him again. Before he began to thrust around his knot and rub at her insides with his unnaturally expanded dick.

  At this, Renegade grinned—and bore down. Setting her internal muscles to deflate that slender knot and expelled him from her saturated cunt. Soaking his nuts, breeches, and any underthings he might have been wearing with one tight flex of her abdomen.

  Her Omega male yelped, eyes rolling back as he was rejected, the pleasure from so fine an intimate grip sending him into convulsions of ecstasy he was ill-prepared to deal with, let alone weather.

  No, Renegade stood, cum and slick dripping from flushed lips. Strings of mixed spend reaching for the grass she’d soiled even as she approached her next victim.

  “Betas,” she drawled, tugging and twisting at her middle nipples. Aching for the day when her teats would swell with sustenance for young she didn’t want but couldn’t deny. “Three to choose from. Three to milk. But which to start with?”

  “OMEGA!” her ignored Alphas bellowed, the twin snarl almost sending her to her knees with convulsions of her own—but still she would not look. Would not give them the power of her gaze or allow them to see her cowed.

  “Pretty matching set,” she hummed, approaching the net containing two Betas. Standing just beyond the reach of their grabby fingers. “Black and tan and all mine.” Grinning, she turned to the solo Beta. Head tilted to the side. “Which one wants it more, I wonder?”

  At this, five remaining voices howled as one. All five straining to prove just how badly they ached, just how much they wanted to free their balls from the cage of pelvic bone and cruel instinct.

  Of course, she ignored them all, each and every one. This was her choice. Her day.

  She retrieved her blade.

  “Let’s start small, shall we?” she asked, and slashed at the net restraining only one Beta.

  The insult was neither accurate—for the Beta she’d chosen was anything but small—nor particularly intelligent, as the instant the net released him the Beta was on his feet. Gathering her into his arms, he snarled but a single word—“Konjo,”—before dumping her on the ground beside the spent Omega male.

  Renegade squealed, delighted by Konjo’s savage absence as he submitted to the rut. Her pussy convulsing with renewed tension as the Beta male snarled and yipped. A wild-thing, unleashed.

  For his part, Konjo surprised her by not moving to free the beast that had soaked leather breeches with precum, instead pinning her spine to the earth and her thighs to her chest. He spread her, dipping his head between her soiled thighs, and took a sip straight from the wellspring of two satisfied Omegas. Tasting his pack-brother’s salty cum even as he drank deep of Renegade’s Canicule.

  Nothing so filthy had ever turned her on more as watching Konjo’s pupils swallow his iris. Nothing so raunchy as knowing he couldn’t help but drink cum both male and female. But when he set his lips to that little knot of tension and sucked her clit into his mouth, Renegade herself was lost.

  Hips bucking, pinned and helpless beneath a male heavier than she by at least a third, Renegade gasped. Hovering right on the edge of climax, yet needing something a little more—

  Konjo plunged two thick fingers into seeded quim, utterly void of anything even resembling finesse, he finger-fucked her. Making her juices squelch, squelch, SQUELCH! out around his digits, he sent her eyes rolling back. Made her back arch, setting all six of her teats begging for attention as she climbed as high as she could. When it happened, she hadn’t the faculties to warn him of his success. Merely soaked his face and forearms as she squirted all over the Beta.

  She could, in fact, do nothing but grunt wordlessly, fucking his fingers as she rode her climax. Pinching lower nipples until the little beads turned blue from the abuse.

  Konjo, it seemed, couldn’t help himself after that. And when next the wild female opened her eyes, it was with a gasp—for she’d been filled with every inch of Konjo’s meat in a single, well-lubricated thrust.

  9

  Konjo spared nothing for elegance. Gave her no room to adjust, just began to rut. Hard and fast, he fucked Renegade. Pressing her knees into her collarbones as he lost himself, the rutting Beta snarled, eyes glassy. Thighs slapping her cheeks and leaving little splatters of cummy slick to sprinkle the grass.

  Almost unable to draw breath, Renegade could do nothing but weather it, knowing that at this pace, it wouldn’t be long before the Beta filled and knotted her. Knew the sparkle of oxygen deprivation would do nothing but heighten her climax when it came.

  And cum it would. Already, she could feel her cervix drawing back, making room for the pounding blunt tool spreading her sodden folds. She reveled in the sensation of tightening lower back and pelvic cradle, for her inner muscles were tightening in preparation to cast him out even as the Canicule drew him in. That delicious contradiction sending her into pre-spasms that saw her eyes rolling back. Delighting in the bruising grip marking the backs of her knees as Konjo held her spread and open.

  For her part, Renegade allowed herself to be serenaded by the sounds of her Alphas snarling and making neutered demands. Commanding their Beta to stop, to pick up the knife and free them so they could force, “that wayward little bitch in heat to act how an Omega was supposed to act.”

  To this, Renegade merely flipped them off and continued to submit to a Beta, of all things. Not bothering to make eye contact as Konjo pounded her into the dirt.

  “Cum—” the Beta snarled, teeth snapping just above her throat, close enough for the threat to break her concentration and derai
l what was promising to be a powerful climax. “Cumming. Ugh! Take it, bitch. Take it all!” he bellowed, dropping into her one final time, so deep he managed to nudge her cervix and splash his spending across that tightly puckered entrance to her womb.

  Spurt after hot, salty spurt Konjo forced into her depths, each blast sprayed deeper with a mighty flex of his ass cheeks. Rocking tight and messy through her channel.

  And when his sperm began to overflow, the Beta’s knot expanded. Stretching her further than her poor, spent Omega male could ever hope to accomplish. Almost capable of stopping the overflow, though hearty rivulets of cum trickled down, over the round of her pale cheeks. Tracing the tight ring of her anus and pooling beneath her.

  Renegade sneered, waiting for the trembling male to ease off a little so she could take a breath—then expel him from her depths for the insult of cutting her off. Reject him before the Canicule could renew his stamina and allow him to take seconds, or worse, convince his sack to descend. To release him from the Canicule and find true satisfaction—a thing she couldn’t allow until she’d been appeased.

  But Konjo collapsed with a final grunt, dripping sweat across her brow as he panted. Forehead bumping her collarbone, he freed her right thigh, letting her heel find purchase on the saturated grass as he crushed her. Fingertips absently toying with her upper right nipple, milking the tiny, flat bead as if there were milk in her mammaries. As if her teats weren’t flat and compact until there were a litter of suckling babes to tend.

  She hissed at him, setting her claws against his flushed pectorals. Causing him to jerk, both inside and out, even as his prick kicked to life once more.

  But Renegade had had what this male offered, and found the experience… lacking. Why should he be permitted another instant within her creamy walls when there were no less than four others to sample? Shifting most of her weight into right heel, she thrust beneath him, at first, doing nothing but giving the impression that she wanted more. That her slick flowed just for him, as she rode his knot and the Alphas howled.