by L. V. Lane
He uses two fingers. But it’s uncomfortable, and more so when I clench. It also feels an achy kind of good. The oil makes me slippery, and the sounds of his fingers fucking into me are wet and squelchy.
“Open your legs wider,” he demands.
“I can’t!”
Strained as I am around his great bulk, I cannot see how I can give more.
“You can,” he says.
A third finger is thrust deep inside me, and I try to jerk away.
His nostrils flare, and his fingers withdraw so quickly, I gasp. The expression on his face is thunderous, and I know I have pushed the beast. I’m flipped over before I can offer a word, and sharp stinging blows are applied to my upturned bottom. “You will learn to obey your lord and master,” he says between smacks. “And do so quickly, or you will feel my hand against your naughty bottom.”
Goddess help me, he is merciless. I am a jumble of riotous emotions. Still tingly from my climax, and yet needy, and now suffering the sternest punishment to my bottom I have ever endured. He handles me with ease. There is no escaping the brute. I beg and plead for leniency, but he is a barbaric Alpha and relentless.
“You will clench when ordered,” he says, applying more spanks to both cheeks.
“You will learn to open your legs and present your pussy for ravishment.”
Spank. Spank. Spank.
“You are mine now. I am claiming you. I have already said as much.”
Spank. Spank. Spank.
“A lass needs to learn her master’s needs.”
Spank. Spank. Spank.
“You will learn to present yourself for rutting,” he says between more stinging blows.
“On your hands and knees, with your skirt lifted.”
Spank. Spank. Spank.
“On your back, with legs spread and pussy on display.”
Spank. Spank. Spank.
“Or you may drop to your knees and take my hardened cock into your mouth.”
Spank. Spank. Spank.
“I will be sure to let you know if I don’t need your pussy or the attention of your mouth. But until I speak, and if I enter the room or look upon you, you should first and foremost assume I need to rut!”
Spank. Spank. Spank.
“If you do not, I shall spank you until I’m satisfied with your repentance. After, I will fuck you roughly to remind you of your place.”
My bottom is on fire. My slick pussy is leaking over the bedding; my face is ravished by hot tears. I can see now that he will be a stern mate who expects and demands my obedience. “You are a brute!” I say. “And you will not break me!”
The stinging blows cease. I think he might have chuckled. But I’m a mess of snot and tears and throbbing everywhere, and I’m not thinking straight.
“On your knees,” he says, tapping my bottom. “Ass up, legs open, and head down. That is how a mate should present.”
I’m not yet his mate, but I don’t dare to point this out.
I heave myself up, trembling and fearful that he will now finally rut me—the rough edge of his breathing speaks of his great need.
Then he purrs.
I have heard that a purr has a mesmerizing quality to an Omega and forces them to be calm. There is no magic trick at work for me, but it is a sweet sound. I understand the sentiments with which he makes it, and that knowledge finds a tender place in the center of my heaving chest. I blink tears back of a different kind as his big hands skim over the surface of my burning bottom.
“That was a firm discipline,” he says, voice rough. “Your pretty bottom is inflamed where my hand has been. You are beautiful like this, in your submission to me.” His fingers dip between my thighs as he speaks. I tremble with the intensity of the moment. There is pain, but there is also fierce arousal. This Alpha has chosen me as his mate, and there is no changing this fact. “Had you behaved for me, I would have taken greater time to prepare you. But I cannot wait anymore.”
Tension underlies his words.
I am not the only one trembling, where his fingers pet my pussy, he does the same.
His fingers withdraw.
I swallow. The rustle of clothing being removed is loud in the dim room. The small lamp is almost out, and soon, it will be dark. I wait. Braced as Jack has instructed, bottom burning and pussy throbbing.
Goddess, I’m so nervous. I talk to myself, lest I do something foolish and try to move.
Then he is with me. His broad hand skimming over the sensitized flesh of my ass brings a hiss to my lips. I bite my lip to hold in my whimpers as the thick, blunt head of his cock slides up and down between my swollen pussy lips.
Grasping my hips firmly as the tip snags my entrance, he pushes slowly inside.
“Goddess!” My inner muscles strain, trying to accommodate his great girth.
He growls, a low warning to be good and still for him. I’m grateful he’s holding me tightly enough that I cannot move, lest I anger him again. He begins to thrust, shallow penetrations that tease the entrance to my pussy. I wince as it goes a little deeper. His cock is slick and slippery and enters me with an ease that my straining muscles do not like. I want badly to accept him into my body. There are hints of pleasure to come, although they are overridden by the monstrous strain.
He stops and pulls back so that he snags my entrance. “Fuck yourself onto me,” he commands.
Jack
Her head twists around like she is confused by my instruction. The lass has a lot to learn about pleasing me. My eyes narrow as my palm connects with her flushed bottom.
“Oh!”
Her pretty face is as flushed as her ass. She emits a short squeal when I spank her bottom again. The need to claim her is an imperative that cannot be denied. “Fuck yourself back onto my cock,” I command, landing a few more lazy but firm spanks when she does not immediately comply. “You are wincing, gasping, and making a lot of fuss when I try to rut you. Now, do as you’re told.”
My spanking is relentless. I’m deep into my dominance and will broker no dissent.
She tries. The sweet little Beta does not enjoy further chastisement to her heated bottom, and she struggles with the task. I keep spanking. But slower, just enough that she does not forget about my command. More wailing and gasping follows, bringing a dark smile to my lips. Her too-tight pussy is both pleasure and pain as she pushes and pulls herself off and on my slippery dick. Her poor pussy clenches at all the wrong times, and she soon grows erratic.
“Good girl,” I encourage. “Keep fucking yourself onto my cock. Take it deeper.” I back up my command with a series of sharp spanks that see her desperately try to take more. “Gods, you are tight enough to strangle my cock. I will order an appropriate training phallus when we get home.” I will make her take it into her tight little pussy whenever I am not rutting her. I grit my teeth in a feral grin as I enjoy her struggles to rut me. I have a feeling she will be naughty about accepting the phallus. I think there will be a great deal of rebellion. I expect I will need to spank her bottom firmly until she is a good girl and accepts it for me.
Despite my determination to let her do this, my hips start to jerk in time with her pushing back.
I rut her with slow enjoyment, spanking her when she dares to falter and forcing her to take more.
“Relax as much as you can,” I growl. The poor lass is finally at her limit, her pussy fluttering with the onset of a climax. Soon, she will be perfect for me. Will be opened and able to accept the whole of me. But this straining, quivering tightness is nice too. I thrust harder as she falls limp, finally her exhausted state allowing me to drive deeper until I am at the swollen ridge of my knot. The base of my spine tingles with the need to come. The urge to thrust that little deeper, to force my knot inside her is a near imperative.
I fight it. Reaching around, I find the swollen nub of her clit and strum it without mercy. “Good girl,” I say. “Come over your master’s cock.”
Where these words come from, I cannot say, but it feel
s right that I am her master. Her body draws tight before her pussy spasms, and a flood gushes over my rod. She throws her head back and squeals as I plunge and hold myself as deep as I dare without knotting the poor lass. My cock spews cum. Great thick jets over and over. My knot is inflamed to the point of pain, and I squeeze it between my fingers, groaning at the intense pleasure. My balls tighten, reaching and straining for the last drops of seed.
Drawing her limp body into my arms, my lips find the juncture of her shoulder and throat, and I bite.
She squeals again, her pussy spasming around me. My grip tightens as I battle the urge to force my knot into her softly clenching sheath.
Gods, she has taken so much this first time. I know I must let her rest; she is yet new to this. But easing my teeth from her throat and my cock from her warmth are my greatest test.
As I pull out, cum spews, and she whimpers. The sound of her pain douses my ardor some. “Hush, love,” I say, drawing her into the nook with me and tucking her against my side. My hands cannot be still; they roam over her body as she sobs gently. I need to inspect her. But I’m also an Alpha who has claimed a mate. I fear I will rut her again if I do.
The light is out, and the small cottage is filled with shadows. She quietens in my arms. It has been too long since I felt a woman beside me.
I have bitten her.
In the way one might claim an Omega.
I have never done that before.
The depth of this urge takes me by surprise as I hold my precious new mate.
CHAPTER FIVE
Fen
I CANNOT SEE what the fuss is about as Gwen bobs her head over my cock. It is a pleasant feeling, but I do not presume my earthly soul to be exiting my body as a result of her skills.
Not for the first time, I have snuck all the way over to the Halket clan to partake of this lass. Their king’s son, Eric, is besotted with her. Given Eric and I are of age and rivals as far back as time, I cannot help but bait him about the lass.
I heard that he gifted her some flowers the other day. What a fucking sap! Gwen is as tall as most Beta men and is more skilled with a blade and bow than half of Eric’s fucking clan.
I’d sooner cut my dick off than give a lass flowers.
Now is perhaps not the best time to be thinking about cutting off my dick.
Gwen gags a little as I give a particularly enthusiastic thrust. We are in the woods, a short distance from the huts and cottages of her clan. Brandon, my accomplice in this game, is busy rutting her ass. He is not an Alpha like me, and I’m irrationally jealous that he can fit his whole cock inside. Although he is a wolf shifter, and even Beta shifters have some interesting skills when rutting. As I have learned during the many times we have shared a lass.
“Fuck,” Brandon mutters. “She is coming. I need to fucking come.”
“Don’t fucking come,” I growl, although I also want to come. The lass is doing things to my cock with her tongue in her pleasure that are proving to be a test. This will be a poor ruse if we are not caught in the act.
“Too late!” Brandon grunts. “Fuck!”
His hips jerk erratically. He shoves the lass so deeply onto me that I tunnel halfway down her throat. She gags in a way that I do not think is pleasure, and I pull out. I’m not a complete bastard, and I don’t want to damage the poor Beta lass.
But now I am also coming for her clenching throat before she turned red was absolutely sublime.
She wails in shock as my cum ejects all over her gasping face.
I groan, working myself with my fist until I have spent every drop.
Brandon chuckles as Gwen continues to curse her outrage that I have smothered her in cum.
“We were rutting,” I point out as I tuck myself back into my pants. “What did you expect to happen?” I feel a little sleepy now that I have come. Since my mischief has ended in failure, perhaps I can take a nap by the river?
I yawn, and I try not to smile at Gwen’s attempts to wipe my copious offering up. All she is doing is spreading it around.
At least this journey was not a complete waste of time . . .
A sudden roar is all the warning I get before a blur of man charges me. Brandon snatches Gwen out of the way just in time as Eric slams me into a tree.
“Fuck!” I growl. This is the worst possible timing while I am in my post-rutting stupor.
We wrestle. I get a punch in before I’m slammed back into the tree. I see stars until I can shake the daze away. On my periphery, I see the shapes of more people crowding into our small clearing. I hear Brandon shouting. Eric’s crew are shouting. Poor Gwen is still bewailing the cum drying in her hair.
For a warrior maiden, she is very prideful about her hair.
“Do not blame Brandon!” I shout and cop a fist to my chin. “Do not blame Gwen either!” I also shout. “The lass is lusty and cannot help herself—uff!” All the air leaves my lungs as Eric slugs me in the gut. His face is nearly as purple as Gwen’s when I was choking her on my dick.
Distantly, I recognize now is not the best time to be thinking about lasses choking on my cock.
I get a good uppercut in, and Eric staggers back . . . only to charge me. We both end up grappling on the ground. Here we trade ill-placed blows that wear us out more than deliver actual damage.
Why the fuck was I doing this again?
I grasp Eric in a headlock although I don’t think it will hold him for long. Everyone, including Gwen, is now shouting at us to stop. I sense they are trying to wade in and separate us. But our thrashing and kicking is hampering these plans. Eric gets a knee to my balls. It is more of a knee-nudge, but the angle is right, and there is enough pain that I fear I might throw up over him.
“Do not throw up on me!” he growls, tossing me to the side. We both lie there panting, me clutching my aching balls, Eric clutching his bleeding nose. I will go at him again just as soon as I can get my breath. Our audience wades in, dragging both of us to our feet and putting my plans to an end.
Brandon has planted a hand in the center of my chest. I wave him off.
“Best get yourself a second when you mate the lass,” I say to Eric, still a little out of breath. “One cock is definitely not going to be enough.”
The crowd surges to try and cut Eric off. But alas, he is powerfully enraged, and the blow sends me sprawling.
Wincing, I test my jaw, eyeing my rival warily. “This was not a fair fight,” I say, scowling. “It is well known that only a coward challenges a man who has just rutted a wench.”
This time, his crew cut off his charge. There is yet more roaring and cursed threats from my adversary as I stagger to my feet.
Brandon shakes his head at me, but there is a small grin on his lips. I shrug. While I am a little worse for the encounter, it has been a satisfying day. Finally, Eric stabs a finger in my direction and barks at me, “Fuck off my lands.”
Pivoting, he snatches up the bedraggled Gwen, who has washed most of my seed off courtesy of an offered water skin. She squeals as he tosses her over his shoulder before stalking off toward their home.
I admit to being impressed that he picked the lass up given she is well built with muscle, and further that, she allowed it.
Brandon bursts out laughing the moment they disappear through the tree. “I have never seen Eric that purple of the face. I think you hit a sore spot telling him she would need a second mate.”
I chuckle. “Eric has a powerful right hook. I should not bait him with the lass.”
“I don’t think you will have the chance to bait him again,” Brandon says seriously before his face splits into a grin. “Something tells me his father’s plans to bond him to a foreign lass are about to come undone.”
I laugh again, and gathering our discarded things, we collect our horses and ride.
CHAPTER SIX
Hazel
AN ALARMING DETERMINATION that I’m being suffocated rouses me from sleep.
“Mmmmmnh!” My garbled protest is spoken
into a wall of hot, hair-roughened flesh. I am on my back, surrounded. Everywhere is more hot skin. I move weakly, finding my legs spread open with a muscular thigh wedged between. My small struggle only wedges the hairy thigh higher, parting my tender pussy lips and catching my swollen clit.
I hiss.
The mountain smothering me shifts, and I suck glorious air into my lungs. A low growl that sets the hairs on the back of my neck rising accompanies a large hand cupping my right breast.
Events of yesterday come rushing back. My pussy clenches, bringing another hiss to my lips.
He squeezes my breast, his growl dipping to that sweet rumbly purr. Head lowering, he sucks my nipple and a good portion of my breast into his mouth.
“Oh! Please!” My fingers grip his hair. I need to gain his attention, but the sensation of his gentle suckling is twisting up my thoughts.
But my bladder is not to be ignored.
“Please, I need to go!” The urgent desire not to embarrass myself by doing my business over my bedding lends strength to my weakened state.
Lifting his head, he levels me with such a stern glare that I nearly empty my aching bladder on the spot.
Then his lips tug up and he shifts off me.
I try to move—I can’t. “What has happened to me?” I wail. I have seen day-old kittens with greater vigor. Every inch of me aches but especially between my legs. And my throat; assuredly, I did not expect him to mark me thus.
He chuckles. My anger at him saps the last bit of my energy, and I burst into tears.
“Hush, lass,” he says soothingly, scooping me up as I weep in pity at my destroyed body. “I did not mean to make light of your situation.” He gains his feet, and with me still in his arms, carries me out the door to where the privy is found. “You are cursed to look adorable whenever you are vexed. And I couldn’t help myself.”
There are more words of woe on my part as we arrive at the privy. A small verbal battle occurs when he insists that I cannot yet bear my own weight and be left alone. I relent only because my body demands I must go now or suffer the consequence. But my face burns the whole time, and I look everywhere but the looming male.
