“Please, please, please!” A shiver crawls up your spine and the darkness wraps around you, almost bringing tears to your eyes, “Curtis, please!” 

“Dude—what’s the wait up?” 

Curtis fixes his headset, his wrist cramping from being in this position for so long. “My sister wants to stay in my room.”

A series of sounds echo through his headphones, varying from disappointment, interest, and sympathy. He could name what noise came from which friend, simply because he knows how each of them feels about you. 

You weren’t a spoiled brat or a bitchy devil who turned his life upside down, you were far from that. You were sweet, too gentle and kind to survive by yourself. Clinging to his hands and clothes with your gentle touch and irresistible warmth, like sticky honey. Honey that rotted his teeth and only made him hungrier. 

Your naivety has led you to his bedroom many times, from asking him about things you’ve heard on campus—“what is teabagging?” When those words left your innocent mouth, Curtis choked on his saliva. Thankfully he didn’t have to answer you because it was dinner time. Don’t ask, don’t ask, Curtis repeated in his head while everyone was sitting at the dining table, he just knows your parents would find some way to blame him for corrupting you. 

If they only knew how much he was holding back from doing that. 

You were easily scared, so he expected you to be frightened this dark and dreary, rainy Halloween night. It wasn’t the family’s typical celebration, you were grounded after failing a test and Curtis was stuck babysitting you as punishment for a mishap involving a hockey puck and a broken window. 

At least his friends were in the same shit—he wasn’t playing hockey alone—that’s why they’re spending Halloween night playing videos and eating their weight in candy. 

Before your parents left for a party, the decorations were taken down because of the upcoming storm, and your jack lanterns were brought inside. Only a handful of trick-or-treaters came by, so the candy bowl by the front door was still full. Or it was until you started nervously snacking halfway through your scary movie marathon. Your tongue is sore from all of the sour treats. 

Curtis would be surprised that you didn’t sneak out, but he knows you’re too obedient and fearful to be that bold. Him, on the other hand, you had to cover for him whenever he left in the middle of the night for a party. There was surely an advantage to having a sweet stepsister, he had someone to back him up, or save him from difficult situations. You even let him hide his weed in your bedroom since your parents routinely checked his room after a neighbour caught him smoking in the park and practically dragged him home by his ear. 

And the neighbourhood still doesn’t know who egged her house last week—Curtis had the greatest friends in the fucking world. 

“—she can’t be that bad.”

“Huh?”

“Your sister, you should let her join our game.”

Steve groans. “Ugh, Buck, you just have a crush on her.” 

“No, I don’t!” 

“Is that why you sent her those love letters a few weeks ago?” 

His gaze locks on Bucky’s character as if that was really him and he could feel Curtis’ glare through the screen. “That was you?” 

Bucky makes an offended noise. “Thanks a lot, Steve!” He hisses, “Okay, maybe I do like her, but I wouldn’t try anything, she’s your sister.”

“And he’d probably kick your ass.” 

“That too.” 

“Nah, but he’s right. She’s probably dying of boredom being trapped in that house.” 

Curtis gnaws on his lip, staring at the glowing monitor displaying their stats from the last game. It’s steadily gotten better and he isn’t sure if he wants you to ruin that streak. Plus, you didn’t even like his games, you much preferred using his PC (that he built himself) for the Sims. He thought it was cute that you made a virtual version of him and put the two of you in a big purple and blue house with a dog and a cat.

“We could pick an easier map so she isn’t completely lost.”

Curtis exhales, “Let me think about it.”

“Uhm… okay.” You lean on his doorway, blinking down at the hardwood floor. “Can I still come in though?” 

“What?” He turns to you, suddenly remembering you standing there. “Oh, not you, honey. You can stay in here—for a bit.” He tags on, he didn’t want you to linger too much. Especially since he was still playing with his friends, at least you wouldn’t hear their endless profanities and arguing. 

You beam and scurry towards the bed, almost tripping over yourself before plopping on the unmade sheets. The mattress jostles and an empty pop can tips over and falls to the ground, joining the mess of the day, from candy wrappers and dirty dishes from when he ordered pizza for dinner. 

You giddily settle into his wrinkled sheets, snuggling under the duvet with your blanket and stuffed Care Bear, Grumpy bear. From here, you see his computer monitors and that war game glowing bright, you’ve watched him play a few times, and were always amazed by his quick reflexes and tactics.

“Tell your friends I say hi!” You wiggle your toes, Curtis’ bed was so comfy and warm. “But that’s it because I’ll be quiet now.” 

“Honey—now don’t get jealous, Bucky, green isn’t your colour.” 

“Shut up!” 

“She says hi.” Curtis runs a hand over his buzzed head, tuning out his idiotic friends. 

Steve whoops, “Tell her Bucky says he loves her.” 

“I live across the street, don’t make me come over and punch your teeth in.”

“Now, now, we all know honey doesn’t like violence. You’ll never marry her with that attitude.” 

“Alright, calm down, fellas.” Andy laughs, “Curtis, are we still playing?” 

He hums, “let’s fuckin’ go.” 

Curtis doesn’t know how long he’s been standing here, but he knows he’s a damn pervert. It’s been an hour since you came in, and Curtis had bid goodbye to his friends before he turned around and saw you sprawled across his bed, your sweater rolled up and exposing your cotton panties and an undeniable wet spot. Spot was an understatement. You were moaning softly and rubbing your thighs together, making the small spot into a full patch that clung to your folds. 

He gulps, clenching and releasing his fists until the heat in his belly dissipates. He busies himself with gathering the dishes, food wrappers and empty cans that litter his bedroom, avoiding your wet, clothed cunt at all costs because if he gets another glance, he’ll fall victim to his desires. 

After doing the dishes, he cleans up after you in the living room, picking up small candy wrappers and fixing the throw pillows and blankets to his mother’s liking. He checks all the doors and windows, peeking out the window at the pouring rain and strong winds. Thunder rumbles loudly as he creeps up the stairs slowly, preparing himself for spending the night next to you—and restraining himself from touching you. 

He places a glass of water on the nightstand closest to you and picks up your stuffed Grumpy Bear. A yelp erupts from his chest when you grab his arm, latching on with a death grip. 

His wide eyes land on you, shockingly awake and breathing heavily, “Honey, what—”

“T-The thunder. I—” You jump as another boom echoes through the sky, you try to tug him into bed, “Curtis! C’mon!” 

He slides under the sheets and immediately, you curl up against him, clutching Grumpy to your chest. Your eyes are squeezed shut as he rubs up and down your back, soothing each tremor rocking through your body. 

This isn’t the first time this happened, you hated storms with passion. From the dark looming clouds, harsh winds and gallons of rain, the cherry on top was the loud thunder and flickering lightning. Back in your hometown, there were terrifying storms that would tear roofs off houses, sweep away anything outside and knock down trees. 

Curtis knew how to deal with you when you got like this, so he distracted you. 

You’re okay, honey. Everything is fine. He repeats over and over again until you stop shaking, he plants a chaste kiss on the top of your head, “Why did you want to come in here?”

It’s quiet for a few moments before you speak, timidly meeting his eyes. “I had a horror movie marathon.” You shyly admit, “and just couldn’t be alone. I was too scared!” 

He didn't have to ask since he heard your screams and squeals from here, even with his headphones on, but hearing it from your lips boosts his ego. You have always run to him when you were scared, confused or both. He was your saviour in more ways than one, and he’s your first choice for comfort and safety. 

“What were you going to wear to the party tonight?”

You slump, remembering your plans with your new friends from college. “We were all gonna be the plastics from Mean Girls! But their Halloween costumes. I was gonna be a mouse.” You pout, “Don’t tell my dad, but I got a little nightie like what she wears in the movie. It’s really short and sheer… you could see almost everything underneath.” 

His eyes fall to your puckered lips, “Oh.” 

“Yeah, I know. I thought those dresses were only for home, not public, but Nat said all the girls dress that way for Halloween.” 

He sometimes forgets you weren’t from the city. Sweet, naive you grew up in a small town before your father married his mother a year ago. He recalls teaching you how to transit everywhere, telling you which trains and buses went where. You were so confused with all the names and routes, you called him every day to ask for directions. 

“Sounds like you’d get cold.” 

“I could show you!” You go to stand but another rumble of thunder has you clambering back into bed, to your safe soft bundle with your stepbrother. “Maybe later actually.”

Curtis laughs, “You a w’ittle sca’wed?” 

You shove him and he’s quick to return it, this time almost knocking you off of the bed. It isn’t long until it turns into a tickle fight, he pins you down and digs his fingers into your sides, straddling your kicking legs as you loudly cackle. You’re no match for his strength and are forced to lie there, laughing till tears are streaming down your face and your throat goes sore. One cough is all it takes for Curtis to release you and hand over the water. 

You gulp heartedly, droplets escape the corners of your lips and trail down your chin to your neck. 

He still feels the warmth of your body against his, so much smaller than him, and crying the prettiest tears and thrashing between helpless pleas for mercy—if he had it his way, you’d be acting the same way with far fewer clothes on. 

Thunder booms and you jump, the water spilling down your chest and legs, soaking straight through your sweater and the sheets below. 

“Ugh! Sorry, Curtis, your bed is a little wet now.” 

He watches the realization hit your face. 

You quickly close your legs, “I didn’t—oh god, I didn’t—I’d never pee in your bed.” Your hand falls between your thighs and your eyes widen, you don’t remember your dream but it must’ve been a dirty one, the kind you’ve only had a handful of times. “I-I have to go change!” You surge up, squeezing your legs together while pulling down the hem of your sweater. 

Embarrassment floods you until it pours out your mouth in stuttering excuses, dutifully ignoring Curtis’ offer to walk you to your bedroom if you’re scared. 

You don’t even grab your stuffie before shuffling out of his room, yanking the sweater over your ass to savour any bit of pride you have left. 

Curtis was seconds away from grabbing you and taking care of your little wet problem. He’d dive headfirst into those sinful delusions and indulge in the pleasure you’re so cluelessly withholding. He rubs over his pants and the wet spot that was more than just water, imagining just how slick you were. He’d bet your arousal was sticking to your panties. 

And now it’s all going to fucking waste. 

When you come back, he’s comfortable under the sheets with a pillow strategically placed over his crotch, but of course, you don’t notice a thing. 

You take shy little steps, your legs never spreading too far until you’re standing at the foot of his bed in a fresh new sweater. 

“This is it.” 

It is a sheer babydoll dress, thin and delicate with a bow at the collar and a frilly hemline. You hold it against your body, swaying cheekily. “Isn’t it cute? Now imagine me with mouse ears, nose and whiskers.”

Curtis gulps, daydreaming about your glowy skin draped in that airy fabric. “Very cute, honey. But I don’t think that’s appropriate at home either.” 

You deflate, “No?”

“Not when our parents are home anyway…” he trails off, “but you can wear it when it’s just us. It’ll be our little secret.” 

You nod eagerly, “I’m good at keeping secrets. I haven’t said a word about you sneaking out—or the weed, and I never will!” 

That’s why he loved you. So positive and enthusiastic, a breath of fresh air in his normal, boring life. He’s so glad he convinced his mother to go on a second date with your father. And to think he just wanted her out of the house so he could throw a party, and now he has unlimited access to the sweetest, prettiest girl he’s ever seen. 

Your gullibility was just a plus, and it’s thanks to that innocence that he’s able to convince you to wear your new nightie to bed. 

“It’s Halloween, you should still wear it even if you aren’t going to a party. That way when you do wear it out, you’ll already have broken it in.” 

Curtis finds out why you were walking so strangely after you fall asleep again. That demonic little voice wins and convinces him to dip in his twisted curiosity.  

The lamp is on the dimmest setting, barely illuminating, but it’s sufficient in this pitch-black darkness. It’s enough, he repeats in his head, he doesn’t need brighter light or a fucking camera, although he wants to immortalize you from this angle. 

Curtis is lying on his stomach between your legs. The blanket is slightly pushed to the side and your sweater is rolled up. His hands stroke up and down your inner thighs and his eyes are locked on your too-small panties. The cotton cups your core firmly, outlining your slit and deliciously falling victim to your slick just like the last pair. 

You beguiled him, pushing him over the edge and into the dark forbidden depths—from the sheer lingerie to the tiny panties, to fucking grinding against his thigh when he was dead set on not corrupting you tonight. 

Now, look what you did.

You were so needy and wet, he’d be a monster to abandon you in agony. Curtis refused to let this gleaming opportunity fade away, he’s saved you countless times, and another wouldn’t be so bad. He’ll put you out of your misery just like any big stepbrother should. 

He carefully removes the rest of the sheets from your body. From the drift of cool air, you squirm then settle on your back again, legs splayed wide open. The moonlight fuses with the yellow lamplight, bathing you in an exquisite, irresistible flare. It calls to him like a beacon, pulling him by the throat to your most precious spot. 

He mouths against the cotton, soddening the fabric with his saliva. At first, he’s discreet, cautiously licking, as if he isn’t starving for you. Once he’s certain you weren’t waking up, he seeks your clit, the delectable button that has been on his mind all night, and licks it through your panties. 

The minimal light might be enough, but this wasn’t. He tugs the gusset to the side, nosing along your inner thigh as your smell drills into his head. 

“So fuckin’ pretty.” The words are spoken in a whisper, his dark gaze glued on your folds that glimmer with your arousal. You’re so fucking sticky. He can’t resist breaking the string of your slick between your panties and your slit with his tongue, the minuscule taste instantly makes him addicted. “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.” 

He rubs your clit slowly, just enough to make your breath deepen as you sleep soundly, beautifully unaware. Your nub swells under his touch and your arousal leaks down your cunt to your rosebud. Curtis refuses to let a drop go to waste. 

He groans as your taste floods his mouth, your warmth satisfying every craving he’s ever had, fulfilling every ache while leaving more in its place. The demand for more and more fuels him on, just like your soft snores as wet sucking noises float into the air. With his eyes shut in bliss and he grabs your hips, tugging you closer. 

He’s only fantasized about this. Never daring to commit to corruption. The guilt should be eating him alive right now, remorse should be wrapping around his neck and yanking him away from you—his sweet, innocent, sleeping stepsister. But it doesn’t, if anything, it excites him. The illicit nature and stark boundaries he’s leaping over. 

Your soft whines edge him further, kissing your clit on his way down to your weepy hole. His tongue swirls around before breaching, piercing deep until his nose rubs against your button. He licks into your virgin hole, nuzzling your folds with his prickly beard. 

This is far better than shamefully jerking his throbbing cock with your panties to his nose. 

Your high hits suddenly, catching him off guard when your hips rise and your panties snap back into place, ridding him of the opportunity of watching you come. He can’t say he hates what he’s gifted anyway, your cream gushes out and soaks the cotton. He rushes forward, enveloping your clothed pussy in his mouth and sucking your orgasm through your panties, hearty groans rumbling in his chest. 

He’s so rough and loud that you stir, but that only plunges him into a fervid hunger. Your cunt pulses under his mouth as he cleans you up, greedily taking any drop of your essence like he’ll never have you again. But he will, he knows he will. 

Lewd noises draw you from dreamland into a confusing reality, following the trail of the strange fluttering heat between your thighs. “C-Curtis?” 

He should pull away, he should apologize and beg for forgiveness but Curtis has played nice long enough. 

“These are so thin, I could just—” he rubs his nose along your clothed folds, nudging your swollen clit. “So fuckin’ tight too.” 

You squeak, attempting to shut your legs but he forces them open, mouthing against your core like he’s been wandering the desert for days and you’re a stream of water. 

Shaky breaths tremble your frame, the sheets wrinkled in your fists as his tongue glides down your slit to your untouched hole, “What—what are you doing!” 

“You were rubbing against me, honey.” He’s intoxicated on you yet hyperaware of every tiny movement of your face, reading your reactions effortlessly. “I’m just helping you out, that’s what big brothers do.” 

“Is this okay?” You ask, “A-Are we, can we do this?”

“Yeah, baby. You think I’d lie to you?” He licks his hand and reaches under your sweater, tracing up your warm skin. He pinches your nipple, his saliva making you squirm from the sudden cold. He fondles your tit, switching between both until your rigidness fades away and you quietly moan. 

His attention falls back on your pussy, inches from his face and begging for him. He’s quick to yank off your panties and fully expose your centre to him once more. 

“Are you sure, Curtis?” 

He huffs, “I’m sure. It wouldn’t be very kind of me to leave you here to suffer, now will it?” He traces down your folds, taking pride in the hitch in your breath, “And this feels good, right? So it can’t be bad.” 

You sleepily process his words, “that feels—oh!” You watch as he lightly licks your clit, his tongue is hot and soft, just grazing over your bundle like it was a saccharine treat. 

He hums, closing his lips around it just to make you feel his heat and wanting you to know how good he can make you feel. He pops off tenderly, “It’s sensitive, huh?” He circles the erect nub with his thumb, “Don’t worry, honey, I’ll be gentle. You trust me, right?”

You shakily exhale, struggling to hold his dark gaze with the unfamiliar tingles darting through your body. “S-So much, Curtis.”

“Don’t call me that.” He kisses your mound, his breath puffing against your warm skin as his eyes lock on your face. The moonlight shines over your features, bathing you in the glow. You look pure, untouched and vulnerable, and Curtis wouldn’t have it any other way. “Say daddy.” 

You stiffen, fisting the sheets with wide eyes. You shake your head but your body has a mind of its own and jerks up, desperate for his touch. 

“Say it, baby.” 

“I can’t—”

He pulls back and swats your cunt, making you gasp sharply. He repeats it again and again, aiming for your most sensitive spot and getting rougher each time. Curtis leans up, spitting on your puffy clit, he should feel bad for torturing your button, but you weren’t obeying him. “Say it, or I’ll get a lot meaner.” 

His saliva smears down your wetness and you squirm, before his hand lands on your belly, pressing you down to the mattress. Uneven breaths shake your frame, and the ceiling fan spins slowly, almost putting you in a trance. “Dad—daddy.” 

“That wasn’t so hard.” He murmurs, peppering kisses along your trembling thighs. His lips ghost your folds before his tongue flattens and licks a firm strip up your slit. “That’s my girl.” 

Now that you’re awake, he could have some real fun. 

He makes out with your pussy, rubbing your petals raw with his facial hair and sending vibrations up your spine with his deep groans. “So wet for me. Grinding on my leg, moaning in my damn ear.” Curtis exhales, “You didn’t even let me sleep, you know that?” 

“I’m sorry!”

“Pardon?”

You mewl as his flat tongue licks up your slit, fucking into your hole. “Da-Daddy! I’m sorry, daddy!” 

You were learning so well. “And calling me daddy, I wonder what your real daddy would think of that.” He lets a heavy dollop of saliva drip from his bottom lip to your swollen clit, “He wouldn’t like that I’m eating his daughter’s virgin cunt, huh?”

You feebly attempt to pull him closer, but with his buzzed hair, the best you can do is push him down. Pitifully whimpering as he teases you, licking everywhere but that one spot. As a last resort, you just force him down and squeeze your thighs around his head. 

Sparks dance on the inside of your eyelids when he takes that spot—that bundle between his lips with open-mouthed kisses, fueling the shocks coursing through your body. You liked this better than when he slapped it. He alternates between locking the throbbing nub in a suffocating kiss—suckle? And dipping down to noisily slurp at your juices. 

This tsunami of impressions and senses brings you to a state of unfamiliar euphoria, a wave crashing within you and releasing an array of passions you’ve never felt before. You mutter nonsense, confused about your body’s response as Curtis works you through it, soothing your pulsating bundle with his skilled tongue and warm mouth. 

Curtis is more robust than you and easily escapes your hold, hooking one arm around your thigh. “You liked that, honey?” A smirk plays on his slick lips, “This is your clit, it’s your special sensitive button,” he blows over it and chuckles mockingly when you whimper, “And I fuckin’ love it.” 

His thumb pulls back the hood, exposing the delicate bud, erect and swollen, begging for his touch. He can’t resist swirling his tongue over it, your moans music to his ears. 

He leans back with the bundle between his lips, pulling lightly before releasing it. A string of spit connects his lips to your core, his saliva coats you and combined with the cream leaking out of your fuckhole, you look like a feast. “So pretty and tasty. So fuckin’ messy.” He groans, “You’ve been keeping this from me, baby?”

You can only blink at him and squeak when he tongues over the exposed nerves. You feel every bump of his wet muscle and his hot breath on your skin, the sensations have your back arching high with unsteady moans. 

“What a bad girl, you know how unfair that is? I give you so much, I keep you safe, I’m so nice to you, and you keep this pretty pussy from me.” He presses on your stomach, pinning you down. 

“I’m sorry, daddy…” You barely manage and entwine your fingers with his, “didn’t mean t-to!” 

“You didn’t?” He repeats, lazily mouthing at the crease between your thigh and warm cunt, his blue eyes locked on your face covered in a sheen of sweat, “but you still hurt me, baby, you made me so upset.” 

“I’m sorry!” You yelp when his palm collides with your inner thigh in quick succession, getting awfully close to your centre. “I’m sorry, Curtis!” You apologize again, “Please don’t hit m-my button—” 

“—You know what would make me feel better?” 

You shake your head, dread sinking deep as he traces down your core, from your puffy clit to your rosebud. He circles the rim, smearing your leaky excitement. 

“If you let me play with you.” He lightly spanks your cunt, wet noises flooding the room alongside your choked squeals, “are you gonna let your big brother play with your pussy to feel better?” He doesn’t relent, nor give you the chance to respond, he only slips his fingers down your slit to collect your stickiness and smear it back over your stimulated cunt, paying extra attention to his favourite part. “And you’re making a mess on my bed, dummy. You have a lot to make up for.” 

Shuddering from wild nerves and unfamiliar sensations, you give in. He was right, he does so much for you without being asked, he’s your hero in every sense. “You can, uhm… play with me, daddy.”

A bright smile appears on his wet lips, and you’re too blinded by his radiance to notice the rotten roots of his happiness, the utter wrongness of it all. You’d follow recklessly on whatever path he makes, trailing after him like a lost puppy without any thought. 

“That’s my good girl—my best girl, actually.” He rewards you with several sweet kisses, pushing up your sweater to give your tummy some love, he trails up higher until your sweater is above your breasts. 

You rise towards his comforting touch, biting your bottom lip as he lightly tugs and twists your nipple. He massages your tit, squeezing it gently in his fist while swirling his tongue over your hard nipple. “Have you ever been kissed?”

Your heart thumps loudly, almost muting his low voice. “N-No.” 

Curtis cocks his head, blue eyes gleaming fondly, “I’ll make it special for you, honey, but no one can know. I’ll take you out, treat you real nice, and make it like one of those cheesy movies you love so much.”

“Will you?”

“I’ll do anything for you.” He speaks with so much conviction you don’t care about keeping it a secret, a part of you knew how wrong this was, but you’d give up everything before giving up Curtis. 

Your hands fall to the back of his neck as you go slack onto the pillows, his chain is cold against your palm, a stark contrast to his heated skin. 

“I love you so much, baby.” He kisses down your body until he’s snug between your legs, and his thumb circles your clit, “and Daddy loves you too, pretty button.”

Your face heats up hotter than the sun as burning desire prickles at your skin, he’s gazing lovingly at your most private spot, and talking to it. That only makes you want him more.  

“You like when I play with your button, baby?” Curtis asks, speeding up and adding pressure, “You’ve never felt this way before, huh?”

Your eyes water out of pure want and overwhelming pleasure. Your previous highs give you tunnel vision, putting your senses in overdrive. Everything feels unbearably stronger, even his breath on your throbbing centre. “N-No.” 

“Never even touched yourself?”

“I’ve had dreams—and woke up sticky, but no.” Even though you can’t remember any of those dreams, you know they’re nothing like this. The heat, desire and pure debauchery are new territories for you, those dirty dreams were just messy blurs but now Curtis is the one to make you feel all those things. 

He growls, growing harder at the fact of being the first to taste you and to touch you like this. “You want my mouth on your clit again?” He asks lowly. “You want daddy to suck and lick your pretty, puffy clit, honey?”

“Y-Yes, but please be gentle… it’s really tingly.” 

His tongue swipes over his lips, “But I think she wants me to be rough.” He pulls back the hood, spitting down, “she wants me to be mean. That’s why she’s all tingly.”

“Re—” You’re cut off by a whine when he licks the exposed nerves, “Really?”

“Really.” He echos, “your body wants to be ruined, used and stretched around me. This ass and soaked cunt want to be pumped full of my cum, and this fuckin’ clit—she wants me to make you cry ‘cause it feels too good.” His mouth waters as you swell up before his eyes, the smallest stimulation makes your sore button fill with blood, “But that’s a good kind of cryin’ for a good kind of hurt.”

He laps over your petals before latching onto your clit, suckling harshly while his thumb circles your virgin hole. He digs deeper until his facial hair rubs into you, coarse and prickly against your delicate folds. You whimper, caught between grinding against his face and crawling away, bouncing between pain and pleasure. 

He pulls back with a deep breath, he could suffocate himself with you and it’d be a joyous end. “Doesn’t it feel good when I’m mean? When I just bully your cunt like I hate it?” When you don’t respond, he glances up to see that lost glazed over your eyes and the stupidest look on your face. 

Peaceful is what he’d call it, peacefully divine—but he doesn’t want you peaceful, he wants you ruined and crying, weeping his name like a prayer, he wants you to plead for salvation, a fucking break, just so he can say no. 

“Don’t you like it when I do this?” A harsh slap lands on your clit, making your legs flail before he hooks them over his broad shoulders. Prying you open for his ruthless touch, he spits on his thumb then harshly rubs your bundle. “Or when I do this?” He pinches your button meanly and rolls it between his fingers. “Dumb little sister, you like when your big brother is a damn bully, huh?”

“Yes, I do!” You mewl, unable to lie still as the elastic in your belly tightens painfully, stretching you so thin you could shatter with a breeze. “I-I do, I love it so much, da–ddy!” 

You’re so pretty when you cry. 

“That’s right, you just gotta remember that daddy always knows best.” He dives forward and messily tongues at your creamy hole, eagerly swiping up any juices you have to offer. “Wanna know a secret?” He suckles, pressing deep between your folds and shaking his head, burning your sore skin with his beard. “The puffier it is, the better it tastes.” 

He thrusts his tongue in your hole while rubbing your clit, the bottom half of his face is a mess. Your previous orgasms and his spit coating his beard and down his chin, your cream collecting around his swollen lips. You aren’t any better, hot tears streaming down your face and drool seeping out of the corner of your lips dumbly. 

You can barely think—your mind is flooded with him, his smell, his soft bed under you, and his touch. 

“Have you ever squirted before?” He asks, but all you can utter are incoherent words, he takes the benefit of the doubt and settles on a squeaky pathetic no. “Fuck, are you gonna make a stupid mess on daddy’s bed, dumb baby? Gonna get me all dirty, fuckin’ soak me with juices from this virgin cunt?”

You make confused noises, stuttering out his name between heaving breaths as the wave builds and builds, threatening to crash over and flood you from the inside out. 

Curtis grins madly, eating up every one of your helpless mewls, bullying your sensitive nerves with his thumb as if you’re his damn controller. “It’s okay, honey, your body is gonna thank me for being so mean.” 

You squeal so loudly that your voice cracks, breaking off into mindless babbles as you squirt, your orgasm shooting out into Curtis’ awaiting mouth. His torturous touch on your swollen bundle never yields and only gets more intense. 

You’re caught between horrified and amazed as Curtis ferociously sucks your burning clit, prolonging your orgasm until you try to get away. He pulls you back and secures your quivering thighs around his head. He’s merciless and dives forward, roughly tonguing your pulsating bundle until much weaker, final spurts escape your body. 

He doesn’t stop until you’re a quivering mess, covered in your arousal, sweat and his saliva. Even then, he spits down on your thoroughly ruined pussy with your juices that still filled his mouth. He meets your watery gaze, flashing you a wide smile. “You okay, honey?”

“That—Is that it?”

“It doesn’t have to be.” He raises to his knees, your juices shining in his beard and around his lips. “But I don’t want you to get overwhelmed, I know that was a lot.” And he didn’t even kiss you yet. 

“But you… doesn’t that hurt?” You blink down at his hard bulge, your legs still spread wide with your wetness seeping into his bedsheets. “I don’t want you to hurt.”

“So fuckin’ sweet.” He exhales, cupping your cheek. “You can watch me, okay?” He tugs down his sweatpants and boxers with one swoop, and his cock smacks into his lower abs, flushed an angry red and leaking pre cum from the mushroom tip and down the prominent veins. “Just spread your legs and keep looking at me.” 

You subconsciously lick your lips, spreading your legs wide as he crawls forward on his knees, squeezing his thick base.

“Good girl, why don’t you spread your pretty pussy for me too?” His jaw tightens under his beard, eyes bouncing between your dazed face and your ruined clit, “show daddy your puffy button so I can come on it.” 

𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: ehem... a very special eun @comfortcap made me this way with button play. I'm also very tempted to make a part two. But i already have a full series with stepbro!ari coming [fraternal instincts] BUT CURTISSS😖🫶

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! check my kinktober masterlist for the rest of my fics

As always, I hope you all enjoyed this and I’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback !! <3 — ☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼

His gaze dips lower to the back of your thighs where the hem brushes your bare skin, and that small sliver of you is embedded into his soul. 

You’re the loveliest girl he’s ever met—with the potential to be the most amazing mother. You were kind, compassionate, humble, and quiet, yet brave and protective when it came to his son. Nothing like his ex-wife who was the most irritating human on the planet that Ari had the displeasure of meeting. 

You were gentle, sweet, and outstanding. And so irresistible. 

Back downstairs as Noel drifts off to dreamland, Ari flips open his wallet and hands over your payment from the day. 

“Oh, sir, t-this is too much.” Your eyes widen at the triple amount of bills you usually receive. Ari was already overpaying you, but this was ridiculous.

The older man places the cash in your palm, and curls your fingers to secure it. “I said I’d pay you extra for coming with me today. If you weren’t there, Ms. Valeria would have tried something—and if I denied her advances, it isn’t above her to make my son suffer.”

A deep frown appears on your face, your heart aches for the young child. Noel was such a great kid, so funny and smart, good at almost everything, you knew he would be a true gem when he grew up. Just like his successful and distinguished father. 

Your boss steps closer, his cologne filling your head. An intoxicating blend of spice and rich sandalwood, as fresh as can be. “You deserve it, Mrs. Levinson.”

Do you deserve it for going with him for the interview or for letting him touch you during and after the said interview? 

You didn’t really have a choice. You agreed to accompany him but upon arrival, he introduced you as his fiancée, and you just went along with it. Noel didn’t say anything either, you guessed Ari already told him what would happen.

You shyly smile, preening under his stare. “I wasn’t even wearing a ring.”

His heart flutters, and he briefly wonders what ring you would want when the time comes—soon, very soon. “Doesn’t change the fact that I proposed and you said yes.” He teases, “Now, be a good little fiancée and take this gift, okay?”

Truthfully, a ring wouldn’t have changed anything. After all, more than a few people already knew of your relationship with Ari. Sure, he’s lied and conjured up a whole life you two have together, but he needed to. 

It was a good thing you didn’t have many friends or even go out that much. 

Unbeknownst to you but known to the entire PTA, Ari always speaks highly of his young and beautiful fiancée since the two of you got engaged a while back. But, supposedly you were too shy and quiet to ever attend the school events. 

Ms. Valeria has been blatantly obvious about her attraction since Noel enrolled in that school, always calling Ari for the littlest things, and flirting up a storm during meetings. Then, she saw his phone wallpaper, a cute picture of you and Noel in the backyard, drenched in water from your day in the pool with the widest smiles on your faces. It was pure happiness and love embodied in a single photograph. 

That’s when it started, the tower of vague yet believable lies. 

Noel hasn’t said a thing since Ari told him that you two were together—it was half a lie considering by tonight, you and Ari will be officially dating. Then, in a few months, he’ll actually propose and make all those lies into a reality. 

You were only his babysitter—but you already treated Noel like he was your own, and treated Ari like he was the only man in the world. After his nasty divorce, several terrible flings, and now in his late thirties, Ari remains a single father with so much time, money, and love to give. And when you came, it all made sense. You were a shy, young and attractive college student with a tiny social circle, practically begging for adoration and attention. 

Ari just couldn’t let you go.  

The cute college babysitter having a stupid crush on her much older and single boss? It was adorable. 

“How about a drink? I’ve been waiting to open this bottle of red for a while, and I think tonight is a perfect time to celebrate.”

The deep drawl of his voice beckons you to take his hand and allow yourself to indulge in his invitation. You almost let out a dreamy sigh when he smirks, he’s so handsome with his carefully carved bone structure, thick facial hair, pink lips and cerulean eyes. Not to mention the speckles of grey by his ears and in his beard.

You never realized you had a thing for older men until you met Ari.

“I shouldn’t…” you trail off, “I still need to catch the bus, it would be irresponsible to get drunk.”

Ari laughs, grabbing your wrist and leading you to the kitchen. “You won’t get drunk, one glass of wine is nothing.”

To him perhaps but not to you. Being quiet and naïve, you stayed far away from anything outside of your comfort zone. That meant parties, drinking, and anything close to dating. It just made you nervous, the intimacy, the PDA, and sex. 

Sometimes you couldn’t help being a timid introvert, preferring to stay on the sidelines as a silent observer than to speak up. You’ve never told the staff your order was wrong, you’d rather just stick with whatever they gave you than cause trouble—it always felt like unnecessary trouble. 

Noel was only eight, but he was such a delight. He was one of your few friends and you always had a genuinely good and easy time babysitting him which was almost every day. 

If you weren’t at Ari’s house, you were at home or the park across the street. Somewhere quiet where you could be alone with your thoughts and that leather-bound journal—the same one that Ari has read after sneaking it out of your bag when you were with his son. He’s spent hours diving into your deepest secrets and fantasies. You were so confused and cute about it and your ‘weird feelings and tingles.’

Mr. Levinson drove me home today. I almost couldn’t breathe in his car, he made me so nervous that I had to open the window! 

You were always so sheepish too. 

Mr. Levinson was mowing the lawn today… I know he’s hired someone to do it before but today he did it himself. All big, sweaty and tanned, he didn’t even wear a shirt! 

I couldn’t look away no matter how much I tried. And I got those tingles again. 

Or his favourite little entry: 

I heard strange noises from Mr. Levinson’s bedroom today. Noel wanted one of his board games from his playroom, so I went to go get it. 

It was really deep groaning, I thought he was hurt so I went to check on him, but his bedroom door was opened and he was touching himself. 

I don’t know why but I stayed and watched until he was done. I’m so sick! I don’t know what’s happening to me!!

As you lean over the counter, he grabs the wine and slides his hand in his pocket, fiddling with the small remote. One flick, and you’d be on your knees. He doubts you’d make it to the highest setting without crumbling into a mess. 

He catches your reflection in the window, and his pants tighten at the mere thought of the vibrator snug between your folds. 

You didn’t even ask why he bought you panties with the rest of the clothes. Muttering a quiet thank you, then coming out of his bedroom in your new outfit with that same nervous look on your face. 

“Do I… look okay?”

Ari fixes the delicate chain around your neck, and doesn’t hesitate with an answer, “You look perfect, honey.” 

You did, you always looked beautiful but there was something invigorating about you wearing things he picked out. 

He liked making decisions for you and doing things for you. Sweet girls like you shouldn’t have to worry about bills or your safety, not even clothing or food. 

He could do that for you, all the thinking, the paying, the organizing, everything. 

He circles the button with the pad of his thumb, temptation growing by the millisecond, “You did so great tonight, sweetheart.” He can't see you, but he knows you're ducking from the praise. “I can’t thank you enough for being there for me.”

“It was nothing, Mr. Levinson—ah!” The soft vibrations catch you off guard and you clench your thighs. A loud slap echoes through the kitchen when your hand lands on the marble and your knees buckle as the speed intensifies. You let out an involuntary whimper. 

Mortification floods your body, the sound so clear that it stirs your brain—but that sensation disappears just as quickly as it arrived. 

You shake from the puzzling fear. Staring between your legs, the frilly skirt is a cruel mockery of whatever just happened to you. 

Ari turns back around, holding two wine glasses in one hand. “What was that?” His blue eyes lock on you, his dark brows furrowed in confusion. 

Still recovering from the violation, you slowly straighten your posture, “n-nothing… I think—I thought I saw a bug.” You couldn’t lie to save your life, but you hope it wasn’t too suspicious. 

It came from between your legs, right on your core. 

When Ari faces away again, you reach under your skirt and feel around your underwear. And, there it is—that weird little object, the source of the alarming stimulus. 

The panty seams were strange and the feeling of it on was even odder but after moving it around a bit, you found it most comfortable with the thing in your slit.

It was small but it was strong, and you had foolishly shrugged it off when you saw it in the panties, god, why did Mr. Levinson buy you panties anyway! 

You wanted to ask but thought it would’ve been unnecessary trouble. He was going out of his way to buy you clothes for tonight and in turn, make you feel so pretty. 

Technically, you were doing a favour and the clothes were an additional treat, on top of your ridiculous payment for the day. You wouldn’t expect any less from Ari, always a meticulous man. 

When you first met him, his appearance and authoritative personality were intimidating. Standing at 6’7” with burly muscles, you couldn’t stop thinking about the thickness of his arms and thighs, or his hairy chest peeking out from under his shirt. And his face stole the air straight from your lungs. 

He wanted to know everything about you before you got near his son. With your limited friends, distant family, schedule, and social media, this man knew every inch of your life, and it was all worth it to get the best babysitting gig ever. 

Then, the vibrations start up again. 

It didn't feel bad, it was enjoyable—why did it feel good when you weren’t even sure what it was?

“Here you go.” Ari steps closer, sliding the glass across the counter. “Are you okay? You’re sweating a bit.”

“I’m fine, thank you.” You hold the rim to your mouth but your lips never part. The red wine sits there until your tongue pokes out, only sampling the bitterness. 

“Good girl,” he rasps, already filling his second glass. “Why don’t you have a seat, honey.” 

You settle into the barstool as the object presses firmly against your button. Seconds later, the vibrations start again. You jump, and the wine glass clatters to the counter, spilling vermillion over the white marble. You whimper a broken apology as the sensation intensifies, the buzzing fully audible now. 

You almost cry from the confusion and embarrassment. 

“Sir—I think, may I go to the bathroom, p-please?” Your bottom lip trembles. “Please?”

Ari grabs the glass and sets it aside, “you don’t have to ask, honey.” A towel lands on the mess, quickly absorbing the wine, staining the grey in a bright red. 

You struggle to stand but a sudden change in the speed has you plummeting back into the cushion. You utter another flimsy apology that Ari couldn’t care less about. He watches your muddled expression, his knuckles white from clutching the rag, and his forearm flexes, veins becoming more prominent. 

“I love it when you beg.” Ari licks his lips, “poor girl, it feels really good, huh? I knew you’d like that toy. You can’t even stand because it’s too much.”

Disorientation quickly transforms into pleasure and unfamiliar tingles flare. The vibrations are stronger, no longer a delicate hum but a harsh thrumming. Tremors shake you to the core and you cover your face. 

Swatting away your hands, Ari pinches your chin and a few inches from your face, he clicks the tiny remote just as the toy speeds up again and the buzzing gets louder. It’s loud and clear over the blood rushing through your ears, playing the melody for utter humiliation. A few tears escape the corners of your eyes, streaming down your hot face. 

Ari groans, swiping one away with his thumb and bringing it to his mouth. “So good,” He hums, “That’s it, give daddy those pretty tears and I’ll let you come.” His eyes are dangerously clouded, coloured a dark shade of blue, it’s a shadow that casts over the rest of his features. 

“Mr. Levinson, please don’t—” You’re cut off by a torn gasp as his hand slides between your thighs, his fingers immediately find the vibrator and press it firmly on your clit. You squeak, legs snapping shut on instinct, but you’ve done nothing but trap his touch flush against the toy. 

He tuts, “I think we’re past formalities, honey. After all, you’re going to come on my hand.” He watches the jagged rise and fall of your chest, the delicate heart charm between your breasts gleaming in the light. 

“P-Please… no more.” You trail off when he applies more pressure. 

“Hush, you’re okay, daddy’s got you.” His low drawl captives you, “The first orgasm is intense. You’ll feel a strong buildup in the bottom of your tummy, it’s gonna feel really tight.” He murmurs, “You feel it?”

You don’t want to answer him, you want to push him away and dash out of his house, but it feels too good. It’s unlike anything you’ve felt before and confines you to the chair and victim to his evil. The veil of pleasure keeps you still and you nod, slowly rocking against his hand. 

“It feels nice, huh? The toy on your clit—bet you’re so sensitive and it’s just bullying your little button.” Ari chuckles darkly at the fresh rush of tears and your jerking hips, “I love it when you cry, when you look ruined. You can’t help but cry because it feels so good, you don’t even know how to process it.” He dips down to drag his nose along your cheek, his lips trailing through the hot streams. As he pulls away, his tongue swipes the bitter drops. 

You struggle to swallow the lump in your throat, “Ari—stop.”

In the blink of an eye, the vibrations speed up and you nearly leap from the chair.

“I’m going to give you one more chance to address me correctly. Choose your next words carefully.” 

The intensity of his blue eyes makes you shiver. Through hiccuping breaths, you try to make sense of the jumbled thoughts in your head but it’s impossible. The difference is indecipherable, between what you want and what he wants, the lines are so blurred with his impenetrable presence and the unstoppable sensation between your folds. 

“There it is, you’re finally giving up. Just like a good girl should. You’re going to give yourself to me, place your soft little self in my care.” 

You’re helpless in the worst way—trapped, without any prediction of the next events, but through the confusion are glimpses of your impending doom. The only thing you know is that Ari isn’t letting you go anytime soon. 

You’re a bird in a glass box with your injured wings fluttering against the transparent walls, ruining yourself with a false sense of freedom. It seems there is hope for you but the truth is, you don’t know if you want to be free. 

“D-Daddy…”

He groans appreciatively, “That’s a good girl. What is it, honey?”

“Turn it down, uh,” you moan, gnawing your bottom lip, “I’ll be good. Please, daddy?” 

Ari cocks a brow, “why would I do that? You’re getting so close, drenching daddy’s fingers like a little slut.” He cradles your cheek, locking your unfocused eyes to his. “You’ll feel a rush of tingles soon and you’re gonna cream your little panties. You’ll give me your first orgasm.” He prys your thighs apart and swings forward to slap the filthy mess between your legs. “Give it to me.” He repeats the action, again and again, getting harsher with each spank. 

A pathetic cry rings out and your juices soak the cotton. It spreads on your inner thighs and the poor cushion as you rock against his fingers, the chair squeaking on the floor. 

The man leans closer, groaning as his slaps slow to firm pats, wet noises filling the room, “I could smell that sweet cunt all fucking day. Thought you were innocent, but you’re just a dumb drippy mess. Must always be thinking dirty.” He mocks, “You always wet for me, baby?”

Yes, your mind answers. Your face contorts, your bottom lip wobbling. “I’m sorry.”

If possible, his touch gets rougher. Ari cups your core, forcing the toy snug against you while he mercilessly prods at your leaky hole through your panties. If the cotton weren’t there, he’d be knuckle deep. You were wet enough to take his cock, his fingers would be a perfect stretch. 

“Filthy whore, always ready for me to touch your pretty cunt. Should’ve made you beg for daddy to touch you, make you get on your knees and cry for me.” His hard cock throbs in his pants, nearly snapping the zipper, “My poor girl has been so deprived of touch and pleasure.” 

You sob against his lips when he pulls you into a hot and heavy kiss. Swapping saliva as he licks into your mouth, swallowing your mewls like it keeps him alive. It feels like it does. 

He’s never felt more alive than at this moment, as he’s tearing you apart, playing you like a symphony. He’s the conductor and this is the crescendo, and every swipe of his tongue and shift of his fingers draws you closer to the edge, the climax of every concert that leaves crowds awestruck. 

This it is, this must be heaven—or hell, given the wicked circumstances. 

You try to follow his lead, but you’re a helpless mess. You can barely function with the numbness tightening in your stomach and fist his fancy shirt in your sweaty hands, weeping against his mouth. 

When he releases you, it’s too late and you’ve already faded far away. The indescribable sensation takes over your entire body as you climb higher and higher, teetering over the edge. 

“So pretty when you’re dumb for me.” 

You lean into him when he licks up your cheek. His facial hair prickles your skin as he pulls his hand away, studying the slick coating his digits. 

“I should’ve done this a long time ago. Put you out of your misery sooner. You know how many times I had to hold back from bending you over just to have a taste?” He can’t resist any longer and shoves his fingers between his lips. His eyes close in bliss as a deep rumble vibrates his chest, “Even better than I’ve dreamt.” 

He’s dreamt of you, just like you have of him. 

Maybe this was good and despite snatching away your control, you wanted this, didn’t you?

“Daddy, I’m gonna—oh my.” 

His tongue collects your juices from his digits, hearty grunts flooding your hazy mind. Your legs shake as you grind harder against the toy, you can only imagine how his mouth would feel on your core. Just the thought of his thick beard rubbing against your folds has you slack-jawed and gripping the counter like a vice. 

“So pure and untouched, could you get any more perfect?” Ari steps behind you, one bicep hooking around your neck as his lips ghost your ear, “my sweet girl, are you gonna come for me? Give me your very first orgasm so I can fuck you tonight, squeeze into that pretty virgin cunt?” 

Spasms rush through your body, knocking you off balance and you would’ve fallen off of the barstool if he weren’t holding you. His hand returns to your panty-clad cunt with brutal slaps, before firmly cupping you again. 

“I’m gonna pop your cherry and stretch that tight pussy around my cock. Claim you and make you mine.” 

Hoisting you upright, he kisses down your neck, sucking the delicate skin. You flail when the toy grinds against your burning clit, your cream seeping through the ruined cotton. He traces your weepy hole, pressing the tip of his thick finger into the fabric. 

“Oh, how easy it would be to finger you senseless right now.”

You stop grinding and your eyes struggle to stay open through the harsh assault, “Daddy, don’t—” 

His arm flexes with a lingering threat to do much more than just stabilize you. “Don’t act up now, I wouldn't want to ruin your first orgasm.” He bites particularly hard on your neck, then soothes the throbbing with his warm tongue, “You’ve been so good for me, letting me make you feel good. Go ahead, baby, you can come.” 

You shake your head and attempt to escape but his bicep stiffens and it locks tight around your throat.

“Ari—” the air gets thinner, “Da-ddy!”

His heavy breaths fan across your sweaty skin, “last chance before I fuck you without prep.” 

You’re quick to apologize with a wispy sorry, daddy.

His lips ghost your jaw, trailing up to your ear. “No, you're going to prove you're sorry.” Through your soaked panties, he fucks your tight hole with the tip of his finger. “You will come for me. I’ve been patient enough, don’t you want to be my good girl?” He grunts, his palm rubs the buzzing vibrator against your sore clit, “give me that cream, make a stupid mess for me. Daddy wants your first orgasm to be a fucking mess.” 

You convulse, hands scrambling for anything. You can feel it brewing, the wave of wetness from your cunt, soaking down your thighs as you let out a strangled cry. “No! It’s t-too much!” 

“You’re so close, just let go for me.” He demands and tugs your panties by the front. That single action has your whole world falling apart. The fabric digs into your petals and that damn toy destroys your bundle. Ari chuckles with a sick sense of pride over the tortuous overstimulation. 

Your scream is cut short by his built muscle securing under your chin, it’s terrifyingly solid against your throat, constricting your movements and your oxygen intake. You hiccup, eyes squeezed shut as Ari fists the cotton band, further abusing your once-untouched cunt. The bitter taste of agony weighs heavy in your mouth, or it’s just the lack of air. You scratch his arm in a feeble attempt to break free but he doesn’t falter. He locks you to his chest and holds the toy snug to your swollen clit, setting your soul ablaze. His deep groans are a sharp contrast to your breathless gasps. 

You swear you can see the gates of heaven. 

The sheer force of his arm could snap your neck and you can’t do anything about it. All too fucked out, weak and stupid, practically drunk on the fiery pleasure. Ari messily kisses your jaw, peering between your trembling thighs at the sopping mess of your pussy. 

Stop, is what you try to say but no words come out. 

“You’ll wake up our son if you don’t shut up.” He hisses against your cheek, spanking your wet core, “You can breathe after you come for me. Just be a good girl and come for daddy.” 

The last string snaps and you topple over the edge. Your whole body convulses, and incoherent babbles tumble from your lips as drool dribbles down your chin. Every cell in your body erupts in flames as vigorous and thrilling as lightning. You heave, crying silently as the burn blooms from your sensitive folds, spreading through your limbs as your hips rise, knocking into Ari’s big hand. 

“That’s it, fucking squirt for me.” He swats your pussy ruthlessly, shattering the feeling into shards. “Give it to me, all of it—so I can ruin that virgin cunt again.” 

Your juices spurt out through the soaked cotton and spread everywhere from his hand. It hurts and you feel senseless—you can’t see through your tears, can’t hear anything over your rushing blood, and are completely numb. 

Even through the limited air, you can smell him, he’s all you can smell. The musky cologne, a fresh wave of sandalwood and spice, and your grave destruction. 

“Such a pretty girl when you come, making a pathetic mess just like I told you.”  

Your throat contracts, head going blank as your orgasm—your first orgasm drips down your legs and coats the underside of the kitchen island. It seeps into the cushioned seat to the floor, marking the floorboards with your embarrassment. It lasts for what feels like hours, the sharp pain exploding into breathless satisfaction. A jagged cry rattles your bones, you’re mortified, and want nothing more than to hide, or at least breathe. 

And finally, he releases you and the toy stops. 

You gasp for oxygen and crumble into the counter, the marble is cool against your heated skin. Your lungs greedily take the air as your ears adjust to your own cries. The world slowly fades back to colour, the vivid shades blurred from your tears, from the white walls and grey cabinets to the deep blue night sky, and the red wine-stained cloth. 

You’re too weak to shove him away when he smears your juices along your lips and eventually fucking into your mouth. You gag as he reaches the back of your throat. He uses you like that, making you taste yourself while smearing your spit. 

“Don’t know how my cock is gonna fit in there, guess I’ll just have to force it in.” He finishes off with a final deep thrust and grabs the towel, wiping off his hand and your sticky, teary face.

His gaze falls back to your lap, your quivering thighs and puffy core. The pretty skirt is ruined but not as destroyed as your panties. His ravenous appetite almost convinces him to tear you apart all over again and this time, gag you with the soaked cotton. 

“That wasn’t so bad, now was it? You were scared for nothing.” He soothingly assures, “Aren’t you glad I made you come? That I kept going even when you said no?” 

You just cry harder, tucking deep into your crossed arms. 

He yanks your head up, glaring down at you with cold blue eyes. “When you cry, you look at me.” His nostrils flare, his shiny white teeth looking all too similar to the fangs of a beast, “Got it?”

“Y-Yes.” You sniffle. 

“What was that?”

“Yes, daddy.” 

“Good girl.” He purrs, his thumb dragging across your bottom lip. He blinks slowly, thick eyelashes brushing his cheekbones as he slips the digit past your teeth, pressing down on your tongue. 

“Maybe I’ll make you cry more often, you’re so pretty when you do. But only like this, when I make you feel so good that you can’t help but weep like a baby.” He says softly, “Daddy just loves seeing you ruined. The prettiest little angel—and you’re all mine.”

He’s so mean, so demanding and rough. He’s a bad man, a man who went against your pleas and strung you out like clothes on the line. 

Your soul is in pieces and lying at your feet, coloured puzzled and scared. You don’t know why you wanted more of him, why you wanted everything he had to offer. Even as you sit in your mess, twitching and whimpering as the final shocks stream through your body, you want him to touch you again—even if you said no. 

You start crying all over again, shoulder shaking as your tears trail through the previous streams and drip down your chin. Some of them slip between your lips and you taste them. Ari’s thumb slips out and collects the salty drops from your flushed skin before bringing it to his mouth. His eyes darken at the taste of your misery. 

Ari cups your cheek and his chest warms as you sink into his touch, “Shh, you’re okay, you’re okay.” He repeats as if it’ll make it true and erase his cruel assault, but it won’t—nothing will make you forget the pain and pleasure he so wickedly gave you. “The first time is a lot, hm? Don’t worry, we’ve got all night to get you used to the feeling.”

𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: there’s something about mean!characters that just gets to me !! no explanation needed bc I am whore. 

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! This was written for my 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲? 𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲… 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲? 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲

As always, I hope you all enjoyed this and I’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback !! <3

☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼

It was supposed to be a fun date.

You watched a TikTok video about couples and friends picking out their favorite fabrics, and making a soft fuzzy blanket for each of them.

The tutorial was simple: Picking out two pieces of fabric, cutting them in half, and intertwining the edges with the other cut piece of fabric.

And the process was fun.

You and Ari spent some time in the mall, comparing fabrics before picking out your favorite, and headed home to make the blankets.

The outcome was wonderful. Soft and furry. A combination of your favorites. Not to mention, you can also leave the blankets at his place. And hence, the perfect excuse to visit his place more often.

You stumbled while stepping on the edge of the blanket accidentally when you were hugging each other, wrapped around in your blankets. You ended up knocking him onto the couch, which was the beginning of a slow and gentle make-out session.

But as you entangle further into each other, you can feel that this has become more than just making out. Your blankets have fallen to the ground, long forgotten by now.

"I've never had an orgasm before." You retreat from his eager lips, shuddering from the intimacy, and breathe. From the proximity of his cock digging into your clothed cunt even with your own cotton underwear still intact.

He is fucking massive. His cock is so damn hard and fucking massive.

"Hmm." He replies softly, his arms around you tighter, "Promise I'll make you feel good, kitten."

It's not about feeling good... you groan at yourself for sugarcoating the fact.

Avoiding his eyes, focusing on his reddened lips, the soft lips contrasting his whiskers, so skilled and gentle, you want to glue to his lips and kiss him for the rest of eternity.

Your hesitation to push further has him stop in his tracks and think.

And of course, he repeats what you say just to be certain.

"You've never come?" Quirking his eyebrows, he instantly feels sorry, and somewhat shocked for you, while knowing the answer already, "Not with yourself or your toys? Jesus." He mutters the exclamation, cradling your jaw with his large palm, "God, you ex-es are assholes."

Your previous relationships, as you have shared with Ari, are nothing you would qualify as "nice". Your first boyfriend from your teenage years broke up with you after you were both in college, and your second is a total douche.

-the reason why he is a douche, that you didn't share. Your second boyfriend was from college, Mason, started to chat with you in a bar. You shared the same interests but he wanted to have sex with you as soon as you said yes to "being his girlfriend". Needless to say, you weren't ready. And after asking three times, he broke up with you.

"I'm..." It's hard to say that word out loud, "I don't have any toys." You whisper. "And I've tried by myself. But ... it just never worked out."

"Is it the stress?" Ari asks, roaming his hand between your shoulder blades, "Are you nervous about coming?"

"I dunno." You sound slightly frustrated, shaking your head, "Never found the right spot, I guess."

Ari has a smirk plastered on his lips by now, "that sounds like a challenge." Toying with the elastic band of your cotton panties, his fingers ghost your lower back, "You'd tell me if anything makes you uncomfortable, right? So that I wouldn't hurt you?"

You nod to his words. But you are still nervous.

As he is about to pull your panties and your skirt down your thighs, and resume kissing again, you know you have to come clean. To tell him why you are tense about everything and anything.

"When I mean that I've never had an orgasm..." you pant as he trails a line of kisses down your throat.

"Yes?" His hands kneading your ass, pressing your waist to have you grind on his bulge. But he stops when he hears you, looking into your eyes again.

"I mean that..." You gulp nervously, "I've never had sex before."

The clogs in his head fall into place.

Never did you ever have sex before.

You.

Sex.

Never.

With zero experience on this subject.

Chris, what had he done? Thinking that he'd make you come, no doubt; he was rushing to prove himself, while you -

"You're a virgin." He blurts out on instinct, "You never had sex?" How can someone as beautiful and witty as you never have men throwing themselves at you? How is it possible that you are not cherished and loved as you should?

You thought he was going to judge you or leave you like another douche which you met at a friend's party two years ago, who got up from the bed and left as soon as you confessed because "Virgins are too clingy and attached".

"Yeah." You let out a shaky exhale. Your hand is still entangled with the base of his hair from the make-out session just now, and your heart beats like crazy, jumping out of your rib cage, not knowing how he would react.

"Fuck, baby." Ari takes over your lips with an open-mouthed kiss, "Fuck."

Swallowing your moans, Ari holds you with his arms so tight that you think you might suffocate.

“Fuck, my pretty little thing.” He kisses your arm, your shoulder, all the way to your neck, before locking his gaze with yours, "I'm going to treat you right. I'm going to have you cum on my tongue and my fingers, before I even consider splitting your pussy open with my cock. I'm going to have you cum so many times that your mind wouldn't think straight. Gonna take my time with you, kitten. Savor this virgin pussy. Tell you everything there is to know about, until you can cum on your own. And fuck, I'm going to ruin you. I'm going to take your innocence and get you high on orgasms. Get your pussy dripping for me. And you'll fuckin' love it, kitten, in fact," He smirks, pecking your lips before his thumb frees your lower lip from your teeth, "I'm going to make sure that you do."

Stripping feels like a tease.

His fingers delicate-light on your breasts. His knuckles would retreat as soon as they touch your body. He is unbuttoning your emerald green shirt, but the smile ghosting his face suggests otherwise. Ari's fingertip peeks into your shirt as the middle button pops open, traveling oh-so-close to your cleavage before drawing an invisible line down to the beginning of your stomach.

"Fucking precious." He mutters under his breath. His hand spreads over your back, holding you in place, while he presses his lips to the spot of skin your half-buttoned shirt reveals.

He is stripping you, but why is this getting you all riled up?

" 's not fair." You whine at his scorching lips, having you burning from your heart to the bottom of your stomach.

"What's not fair, hmm?" Ari asks in amusement, working your shirt buttons single-handedly, keeping his kisses on your skin, nibbling your collarbone.

Your whine turns into a high-pitched moan when you want to explain. When Ari slants his mouth over your nipple.

He didn't bother removing your shirt - which is now fully unbuttoned but still covering most of your skin in mere seconds - or unclasping your bra. He simply hooks his finger below the middle of your bra, and pulls. So that your breasts emerge from the edge of the bra, where he takes a nipple between his lips.

You try your best to give a sentence instead of lewd moans, "Not fair that... Ah - I'm the only one that-mmph, that's hot and bothered."

Ari chuckles. Your nipple slips out of his mouth with his shaky vibrations. Chuckles turn into laughs. Pushing his hair behind his ears, and when his laughter finally subdues, Ari confesses, "As much as I like to tear you apart and make you scream on my cock to show you that me being 'hot and bothered' right now, I'm preparing you, kitten. First orgasm is going to be intense, and I want you fully relaxed to enjoy it." He adds almost teasingly, "Not all sex is going to be like movies where they jump each other's bones and fuck."

"Oh." You mutter in embarrassment, because that's early what you've been thinking. Sex, or foreplay for now, with Ari, is nothing like what you have seen in the movies. And porn certainly didn't help since most of the time, fuck is all they do.

Blood rushes to your face as you feel bad about yourself for not knowing anything about sex.

"Hey. Look at me." He whispers after planting a kiss on your jaw, "I'm here to help, alright? I'm going to teach you about this. In a fun way." Ari smiles as he meets your hesitant eyes, "I'm here to make you feel safe. That you won't be afraid to ask. Though no promises on the 'ask' part, your pretty mouth might be occupied for some time."

That you might know something of. About the "occupied" part.

"You mean giving head?" You raise your question more boldly this time, but your cheeks are still heated as this is the first time you actually discuss sex with your partner, which is about to happen to you.

"No." Ari shakes his head, still amused, "What I mean was you will be busy moaning and crying out my name. But we would get to that, giving head, to see how far you can take me down your throat, or your gag reflex."

"My gag reflex is annoying." You sigh, not sure how this would pan out, "I'd hurl even if I'm brushing my teeth.

"That would be another discussion we would have before trying oral." Ari announces, moving your attention away from the fear of gagging on his cock, and onto your body, "And I think we need a little ground rules." He steals a kiss on top of your cleavage, "It's the traffic light system. When I'm asking you if you are okay, you can answer in color, or you can tell me your color if you feel uncomfortable."

"My color?"

"It's the same as traffic lights. Green means go, means you're okay, perfectly fine. Yellow is pause. I will have to further check on you, if my actions were too intense, or if you feel like you are on the edge of breaking, or uncomfortable in any way. Red means full stop. I will be stopping whenever you say 'red'. But you don't have to worry about the difference between yellow and red. If you don't feel like continuing after I check with you or you prefer to stop fully after a yellow break, that's also okay. What's important is you tell me how you feel so I can stop before hurting you."

"But you're not going to hurt me." You purse your lips together and ask, "I trust you that you won't … ?"

"I know, kitten. Thank you for that." Ari squeezes your thigh, "The color system is just a precaution. You might be yellow or red if I pushed you too hard. Or your orgasm is hard and rough so I have to check whether you're okay for another round."

"Another round?" You can't help but stray from the main topic for a little bit. Your eyes widened, curious, "How many orgasms can a person have in a row?"

"My record was four. After the fourth, it gets too sensitive for me to continue." Ari answers your question patiently, "But everyone is different and every time is different. You might be having an intense orgasm that gets you overstimulated. Or it hasn't been too much stimulation that you feel like you can have another round."

You nod to confirm that you understand.

“No more questions? Good.” Ari pinches your chin with his thumb and index finger, and pulls your shirt down with his other hand, “Theory session is over. Time for practice.”

How he manages to unclasp your bra single-handedly, you have absolutely no idea. Your mind is occupied with his beard chafing your breasts, with his soft lips mapping every inch of your body. And the fabric falls onto the floor, just like the blankets.

“Is it okay if I take your skirt off?” He pants into your skin, his blue eyes swirling waves of endless lust, pulling you in, coaxing you to say “yes”.

You whine as his palm weighs your tits. The strange yet delightful sensation of being touched by him meddles with your brain from speaking coherent sentences.

“ ‘Mmph’ doesn’t count, kitten.” Ari tilts your chin so you can see him directly in the eyes, “I need a yes before going further, baby.” He presses another kiss to the valley of your breasts, before huffing out a small laugh, “We agreed on that.”

“Yes.” You choke out, “Yes please.”

His eyes darken per your permission, or that could be your brain misinterpreting your visual signals because it seems like not a single brain cell remains after what he did to your body. Tugging the skirt down your knees, he helps you step out of it and sit on his lap again.

“Can you, um … take it off?” You whisper by his lips, clutching his flannel as if your life depended on it.

“What is it, baby?” He asks you gently, trailing kisses along your wrist.

“Your clothes.” The rush of blood begins to take over your cheeks, you can practically feel your face burning, “I want to feel you.”

He could have his heart carved out for you with your whimpering voice pleading. His heart melts into a gooey puddle, bubbling for all the love he has harbored deep down. “ ‘course, kitten.”

The clothing that clung to his body a second ago joins the rest of yours on the floor.

You let out a small gasp at his chest. You know he’s big but damn, you weren’t aware of how big he actually is with the hindrance of his shirts and flannels. The huge biceps - you have seen and felt those before, but they are less attention-capturing than his chest and six pecs, and a few dark inks scattered over his torso. The most prominent one stares right back at your face. A huge eagle spreading its wings over his right chest. 

In your old-fashioned and probably outdated opinion, tattoos were for bad boys, the type of person who would trick you into having sex and doing drugs and dye their hair in the most bizarre colors on this planet. Definitely a bad influence, most certainly could create a dent in your perfect GPA scores, or so you have been told in the early years of your life. 

Ari, however, is nothing like what your parents described as a typical “bad boy”. He has a standard nine-to-five job, volunteers at the animal shelter on weekends, and is the most chivalrous man you have ever met. You would never link him to tattoos.

Until now.

A smug grin creeps on his lips. Unknowingly, you have voiced your thoughts out loud.

“Aw, bad boy, huh?” He coos and muses at your choice of words and coaxes another kiss from your lips, taking your hand and placing it on his chest, “Cute.”

“You’re -” You practically squeal from the contact of his skin and your palm, “warm.” 

He laughs, his thumb caressing your throat, tracing the movement of the muscles as you swallow nervously.

“ ‘course I’m warm, honey. I’m not a vampire.”

He guides your hand to feel his skin, the pumping of his heart, and the astonishing softness of his pecs, which surprises you a little when he tightens his muscles so that they become hard all of a sudden. He allows you to venture onto his back, throwing out casually, very casually that he plans on having another tattoo on his back.

“Bad enough for your liking?” With a mischievous glimmer in his eyes, Ari slowly mouthes his way down your body to the point just above your mound.

A mumbling noise is all that your language system has been able to produce so far.

“Look at me, kitten.” He instructs with his low, throaty voice. It could be the lighting, but his eyes turn darker than before, “I want you to watch me while I ruin you.”

Find my Cum Together Trifecta here 👈

The bigger sharks were on levels from four to eight; those who came here not to posture or boost their ego, but simply for sating their twisted desires. It was no secrecy what happened on higher levels, though you still suspected you were given a brief summary of the depraved acts happening there.

A small part of you occasionally wondered how it would be to enter those levels, but the dark itch snuffed out quickly under the more pragmatic needs. 

Your pretty green card was all you needed. You told Astoria as much when she proposed to promote you to blue. Playing the part, you fed her lies about being too shy and too uncoordinated to dance for leering Betas and Alphas. 

The truth was: it would be harder to hoard information for later use.

On upper levels, patrons watched, drank and fucked. They rarely talked among themselves, unless it was to share filthy ideas of what to do with an Omega that caught their eye. 

However, on the second level, they met to talk business, to share gossip, to sell information. Scraps you plucked from their mouths without them paying attention. 

Those were the bites that fed you and your group. A stolen crate of medication from a shipment in the docks, which brought your lot money to last for nearly two months. Smooth breaking and entering the house of an officiant that left for vacation. Offering a few sets of hands to a contractor that looked for “cheap hire” - yeah, it was cheap, but for you it was still a nice boost of cash. Avoiding police raids. 

All thanks to spending long nights carrying drinks and snacks for the stupid wannabes. 

You didn’t feel an ounce of remorse. The world you were born into and grew up in was merciless toward Omegas. None of these assholes around you cared for an Omega, why should you care for their careers or lives. 

Centuries ago, supposedly, Alphas had an instinct to provide and care. Omegas to nurture and support. As civilization collapsed into a heap of jaded degenerates, none of the designations remained what it once was. Power still decided who’s on top of the food chain, but needs other than simple survival went extinct. No heats, no ruts, no need to nest. Most of the pregnancies were unplanned, since even those Alphas desiring to fuck an Omega to the ground lacked the ancestor’s primal need to breed. 

Which was all good, in your opinion. Less obstacles on Omega’s path to survival.

What would even be the point of bringing a child to this world if you’d be unable to protect it. Unable to provide comfort and safety. What point, if for years you were the strong one and not a single fucker around you seemed to reflect a ghost of legendary Alphas. 

Your own father, as much as you loved him, was a poor excuse of a provider for the family. Always shaking like a leaf, always keeping his head down, stickler for the rules that brought him nothing but poverty and disrespect. He had more of that emotional caring, at least, but unfortunately it didn’t feed mouths. 

It didn’t save your mother when she got sick.

You were barely eleven then, but it was you who tried to break into an apothecary. Of course you got caught. If it wasn’t for an officer’s exhaustion - he wasn’t merciful, he was just tired and didn’t feel like doing all the paperwork after his shift - you’d be sentenced. He scared you to death with threats, then let you go. 

Your father did nothing. Didn’t try to steal, didn’t seek alliances, didn’t try any shady work. 

You loved your father, but you lost your respect for him. 

Perhaps it was a cruel assessment, but the times were even more cruel. So by the time you were thirteen, you already joined a small group of street smart teenagers. You looked out for each other - within limits of reason. It served to work together and you were loyal, but to a point.

After all, this world demanded everyone to look out for themselves.

So you put on your sweet smile, recognizing the two of the patrons that became your regulars over the past months. With new guests you had to figure out what type of waitress they preferred - a shy one, or a flirtatious one. With regulars putting up a mask was much easier. 

“Your drinks, gentlemen.” You greeted politely, stopping right next to the one who self-proclaimed himself the leader. 

Pete Brenner. The Quadrant Overwatcher. 

A transfigured version of what used to be a district attorney position, reduced to a smaller part of the metropolis. With power to bully locals living in his quadrant, but in reality holding no power whatsoever in the grand scheme of things. He sure hoped to become The District Overwatcher.

“Nicely topped off, sweetcheeks.” Brenner voiced his approval as if you even cared for it.

“I’d never let anyone scam you here, Mr Brenner,” you replied, with just a pinch of coy flirtation that tickled his ego, but wouldn’t put a target on you. 

His mouth opened, but neither dismissal nor a repulsive offer came out. His gaze flicked over your shoulder and his whole demeanor shifted. He straightened, his face going serious. With a wave of two of his fingers he dismissed you. 

Which you’d happily do, but as you turned, an enormous shadow fell over you. A step before you grew an imposing, dark figure. It seemed your eyes had to go up and up to reach the face of the newcomer. When they did, your insides quivered in instinctive terror.

Former designation traits may have died out, but the fear was the basis of survival so it remained the most accurately functioning instinct. 

And it screamed at you to play dead.

Don’t run, because that beast could follow.

Gone were the days when men wearing suits were considered charming gentlemen. This man might be depicted by the controlled media as the paragon of law and propriety, but those values were warped and deformed. The reality was that he decided what law was and how it was executed. And he didn’t care for honor or justice. 

Steve Rogers. 

Beside the tv screen, you haven’t seen him once in person, despite working at the Inferno for two years now. 

Men like Rogers didn’t roam the club’s floors, especially the lowest levels. Even as one of the four owners of the place. Perhaps he visited the top levels on occasions, who knew what depraved cravings a predator like him had. 

In person, especially barely at an arm’s length from you, he was more intimidating than in the media. 

Long legs, with thighs stretching the fabric of his suit pants. He had his hands in his pockets, but somehow you knew they were big and lethal. Wide chest spanning out to the broadest shoulders you’ve ever seen. A tendon in his neck twitched as he tilted his head marginally. His jaw was perfectly clean shaven, chiseled sharp. Cold, blue eyes stared down at you - assessing and dismissing at the same time.

“Bring another round of drinks,” his order came in a surprisingly drawled, bored tone, “for the upcoming toast.” 

“Y-yes, Mr Rogers.” You dropped your gaze, scurrying past him in long hops. 

There were dumb fishes to fillet here, but you weren’t suicidal to play any games with that shark. He was bigger than a shark. More dangerous, too. A fucking creature from the depths. 

You took ten calming breaths before you forced yourself to walk back to their box. Tray perfectly balanced in your hands, you maneuvered between other tables. You forced yourself to focus on the filled glasses, not daring to lift your gaze up to anyone. Especially, since the towering executioner was still standing at the table. 

As his voice flowed, however, you couldn’t help picking up the precious fragments of information that had the power to change your life forever. 

“Bring it tomorrow before the night opening. Through Astoria’s office. The elevator will be waiting for you.” 

The elevator. 

The private one that was code locked and no one beside the four owners had access to it. The only one that led to the highest level, the last circle of hell. Accessible via only one golden keycard. 

Though no one was ever known to enter it, Omegas had their suspicions about it. Considering only the owners had access to the elevator that led to the ninth level, they assumed it was a private entertainment for the top Alphas. For special guests, or maybe for the owners themselves. 

While you understood that assumption, you saw inconsistencies. 

No one was ever invited there. Even if an Omega had signed in blood a non-disclosure agreement, someone would’ve noticed and gossiped. All the time you worked at Inferno, not a single Omega was rumored to have been given the golden card. 

For a while, you suspected it was Astoria’s card, which she displayed as a mark of her high position over all of you. With her intellect and control over the Omegas at Inferno, she could be granted the bonus of accessing the highest level. Of course she flatly denied it when you asked her one time. Even gave you that cold stare, warning you away from it. You wouldn’t expect someone as sharp as her to simply admit to it. 

If it was Astoria’s key card then it held the potential of opening a treasure chest. A whole fucking cave of treasure. 

Astoria had connections, supplies, wealth, which you could only dream of. Surely, if you scooped a tiny bit of it she wouldn’t mind, right? You weren’t a dumb amateur to steal something major that would instantly put an axe to your neck. You’d be clever about it, finding innocuous threads that don’t make a difference for Astoria but greatly improve your living standards.

With excitement bubbling in your chest, you quickly slid drinks around the table, swiftly snatching back any empty glasses from the prior round. You were about to retreat into the shadows of your duties, but you paused to glance at the biggest Alpha you had a chance to meet.

“Anything for you, Mr Rogers?” You brought an extra drink of the same booze, but he didn’t reach for it. Probably deeming it a piss poor substitute for the real expensive shit he got served in whatever dark level he roamed around. 

When his eyes snapped to you, breath hitched in your lungs. In the dimmed lights of the club his irises glowed iridescent blue, beautiful and terrifying. 

Some unknown part of your brain tingled with awareness, urging you to stare into his eyes while gracefully dropping down to your knees. It was different from the petrified reaction of crumbling at an abusive Alpha’s feet and begging for mercy. It was an impulse that felt strange, yet so natural. 

You fought against following it. You dropped your gaze, cutting off the mesmerizing connection with the Alpha’s eyes. 

“No, thank you.” There was no actual charm in Rogers’ voice, but the polite words - while clipped - were a rarity, as unique as shiny gems in the grime of the sewers. 

With a quick nod, you turned on your heel and walked away. Inwardly, you thought that Brenner and his entourage may toast whatever opportunity he’s been given, but yours was greater compared to his. For him it was merely a step. If all went well, for you it would be a leap. 

Continuing with your shift, you formed a plan stone by little stone, until you had a whole path carved in your mind to start on the next day. 

Coming two hours before the gates to hell opened wasn’t suspicious if you had a waitressing position. Omegas on the first and second floor, like you, often came earlier to help the bartenders. You frequently came early to gather any juicy scoop on who might be coming that night and was worth snooping around. The guards merely glanced at the green keycard you waved. 

Years on the streets have taught you to be aware of your surroundings, to notice shifts and changes, as well to recognize returning faces. It took you a split of a second to notice Astoria leave her office and head toward the patrons’ elevator, on her routine duty of checking every floor from the highest to lowest, before the night started. 

Her office door was automatically locked, opened with a keycard or a pin code. But you bravely marched forward, certain that this special evening it was supposed to stay open for Brenner to slip in and use the private elevator. Besides, if anything went wrong, you could always claim you were looking for Astoria herself. 

Blood pumped in your veins with a rush of adrenaline, a spike between excited and reasonable fear.

The door slid open with ease and it felt like a new chapter of your life rolling out a tattered red carpet for you. The glass box taking up the space of one wall lured with its colorful contents - the few keycards for various levels. 

But the one calling out for you was the one at the top. 

A single nugget of gold you itched to snatch, like an obsessed dragon hungry for the treasure and mindless of the alarm bells warning you of terrible curses awaiting. 

You hesitated only a heartbeat, then carefully opened the glass case. You had to strain on your tiptoes to brush your fingertips against the golden keycard. When it finally landed in your hands, you clutched it to your chest like the most precious finding. Its size and weight didn’t differ from the green keycard you had, yet something about it felt heavy.

As if it strung along a sense of dread. 

For the first time, you doubted if you should proceed. You shook that off. Even if the ninth floor didn’t store treasures, you were too curious to pass on that opportunity. To peek into the mysterious floor at least once. 

You quickly padded toward the shiny door of the private elevator. Your reflection was a shadowy silhouette, half the size of the surprisingly massive door. There was a panel on the side, but the digital numbers which usually had to glow were now dark and muted. Only one square at the bottom illuminated neon yellow. 

Bracing for potential blare of alarm, you took a deep breath and pressed it with the pad of your finger. 

No sirens resounded, only a quiet swish of door opening. You jumped inside immediately. You gasped as the elevator closed, engulfing you in semi-darkness. There were no buttons inside to choose a floor, which you found weird since the private elevator shaft went through all the floors. How did it know where to go or where to stop? 

It only occurred to you at that moment that you had no idea if the elevator would take you back up.

You clutched the golden keycard in your hand, with a rapidly quickening heartbeat waiting for the plummet into the lowest circle. Earlier bravado and hunger for benefits dimmed as the light filling the space seemed to hue from pale yellow to red. 

When the elevator finally stopped and the door smoothly slid open, flickers of yellow and orange greeted you in the otherwise dark space. Not a sound, but eerie silence awaited on the other side. 

Your eyebrows drew in a frown as you warily stepped out of the elevator. You expected a floor as spacious as all the others, but instead it appeared to be a circular chamber with walls made of stone. More than a contrast to the glass and steel of the whole Inferno building. The marble floor was cold beneath your bare feet, unlike the heated floors of the upper levels. 

There were no nooks, nor shelves along the tall walls. Only a grand, iron chandelier hanging from the ceiling, and a round, wooden table beneath it. With four chairs. Each adorned with a detailed carving of an animal crest. 

Your attention, however, was drawn to the massive double door on the other side of the chamber. Carved into stone walls like a passage to an ancient world; buried, forgotten, and full of mysteries. 

The door was open wide, but beside the few inches of stone flooring right behind the threshold, you couldn’t see what was inside. The darkness there seemed too thick. Sconce lights along the wall casted merely a smudge of light.

You glanced around as your feet carried you past the table. There was no one inside. Only your heartbeat filled the space. 

Yet you felt eyes following your every move.

Twisting your head back and side, you couldn’t find a flicker of light that would betray a camera catching your trespassing. But the feeling didn’t ease, prickling at the nape of your neck with conviction that a predator lurked somewhere here. 

Swallowing a sudden lump in your throat, you stopped in front of the monstrous door, tilting your head back to read the sign carved above it.

Lasciate ogni speranza, voi ch’entrate.

You had no idea what that meant, but you didn’t need to know latin to suspect it was a vow of something terrible. Any reasonable person would pivot on their heel and leave. You couldn’t back down. You didn’t want to be a coward. Didn’t want to miss the opportunity that for so many Omegas would be life-changing. 

You stepped into the dark corridor. It looked endless. Spots of light were reaching just into a point, but as you neared it, they continued to appear further. It took you a moment to realize they weren’t reacting to movement, they were constantly lit, but the corridor itself wasn’t straight. It curved and curved. 

A spiral. 

Probably curling around the central chamber, wider and wider circles each pass. 

You weren’t far into it when the hair on your arms and the back of your neck stood to attention. The smallest gust of wind tickled somewhere between your ankles, alerting you of a movement behind you. 

Heart pounding in your chest, you slowly turned around. And screamed. 

A monster prowled forward, its huge silhouette emerging from the darkness and brushing between the blotches of light from the sconces. 

Its animalistic face glinted steel, sharp teeth out in the open ready to maul your flesh. 

But then it came further into the light and you noticed the human shape of the rest of its body. Massive, still so much bigger, but definitely human. Wearing heavy, combat boots and black pants similar to those worn by Strike teams. His upper body was bare. Displayed like a sculpture of exaggerated perfection that bloomed from smooth waist into broad strokes of chest and shoulders. His arms seemed built of cords and curves, even as they stayed slack at his sides, not flexing in strain. 

As your gaze traveled upward, along his neck and the curve of his jaw, you realized the monstrous face you first noticed was in fact a metal mask. Depicting a wolf. 

It covered the man’s face; protruding snout and sharp teeth hiding his mouth in shadows. His eyes appeared dark, but with the mask on and the shadows filling the corridor it was impossible to say if that was their real color, or if it was a deceit. 

“Little, cunning fox.” His voice carried smoothly, its deep timbre resembling an actual growl. 

You couldn’t tell which aspect of him betrayed it, but you felt it deep in your guts that this was an Alpha. 

And not an ordinary one. 

Markers of scents, as well pheromonal reactions have been extinct for decades, if not a century, so it wasn’t your sense picking up on it. Not every Alpha was built like a monument, either. Yet you felt it, to the very fiber of your being. 

Not one to be spiritual, or seek grains of truths in legends, but you wouldn’t be surprised if he turned out to be some ancient Alpha monster who slept in these underground ruins for centuries. Awoke now to devour fresh prey. 

“I- “ words were stuck in your throat, fighting for space with your heart that wanted to escape, but you managed to blurt out - “I’m sorry!”

“Don’t be. You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.” 

You shook your head, frowning, as you tried to understand his implication. It wasn’t a place you were ever supposed to find. After all, you snuck in here after cheating the odds, thanks to an overheard conversation. That golden card wasn’t gifted to you. 

The Wolf lifted his arms, brushing the walls of the corridor with his fingers. Fuck, you’d be unable to pass him on either side, he’d catch you easily with how his whole frame filled the space. 

“So clever and resourceful. So determined. So-” though you couldn’t see it, somehow you knew his mouth curved into a wicked grin - “hungry for thrill.” 

“No, I’m not. I’m just trying to survive.” For years, since you’ve been a teenager, it was all about surviving in the cold, careless world. 

“And you’re doing it impressively.” He gave a solemn nod. “Quick-witted. Though your company was rather annoying.”

“I’m here alone!” You quickly supplied.

You suspected he meant the crew you’ve been working with for years. A band of street raised teenagers who grew into shifty adults, using each other not as support but a means to an end. As long as most of you survived, it worked for everybody. You had no foolish ideas about what it was. Still, you wouldn’t so easily hand them over. After some pain, maybe, but not so fast. 

“You’re here with me.” There was something in the Alpha's suddenly cold snap that sent familiar shivers down your spine. 

“Out there, however,” he continued, “you shared your scrappy talents with an ungrateful batch. Despite being the main source of your band’s intel they wouldn’t hesitate to profit off of you. That pitiful self-proclaimed leader, Mason, was scheming to get a deal on you.”

Your fingers clenched into fists, edges of the golden keycard cutting into your skin. A part of you wanted to deny this accusation, out of pure spite. But you never claimed to trust anyone with your life, including the people with whom you often conspired to steal a crumb. Still, it hurt for some reason, to hear that the same people planned on curating your doom. 

“Found himself a hungry buyer. Pete Brenner.” The Wolf spat that name with disdain. 

Heart lurched to your throat, squeezing there along with a shocked gasp. Was that why you were here? But it was Brenner who had been instructed to come via the private elevator, they couldn’t know you would-

“Brenner was too lazy to orchestrate your relocation, he needed Mason to lead you right into him in his district. Thinking you’d be sweetly lured.” You couldn’t see clearly, but you were sure he just rolled his eyes. 

“How do you know all of that?” And why are you telling me all of this? 

The Wolf’s head tilted to the side. His fingertips caressed the stone walls as he took a step towards you. A step you instinctively met with your own small step back. 

“I know everything.” He chuckled darkly. “Everything that happens in this city. Every broken rule. Every resistance. Every connection.” 

He slowly prowled forward and you shuffled backwards, your blood filling with heating adrenaline that was about to reach a boiling point. 

“I know you’re not the kind to be lured sweetly. All those years fighting to stay afloat in the murky waters that you absorbed the darkness. Sniffing out goodies, stealing information, dancing in the shadows.” With each sentence he came forward. Still slow, seemingly unbothered by your retreating form. “You may hate it, like all do, but you grew to enjoy the chase. And I want to teach you-”

“ -to enjoy being hunted.” 

Scream stuck in your own head, or maybe it was the wheezing sound of your blood drowning your insides. You moved faster than ever before, turning around and bolting further down the corridor. 

You had no idea where it led, what other dangers awaited at the end, if there even was an end!, but you had to run. Far away from the monster you knew would give chase. 

Perhaps, it went against logic. If he wanted to hunt you, shouldn’t you provide him with the complete opposite? But your brain appeared to malfunction, too terrified to form up witty plans and outsmart the Alpha. It pulsed with one thought now - run! 

Terror fueled your moves, but there were other flickers heating up beneath your skin. You’ve run plenty of times in your life, but none of your escapes stirred fizzy bubbles popping in your veins with drunk endorphins. 

Raw cry ripped out of your lungs when a heavy arm wrapped around your middle, shoving you against the wall in a sharp move. Those bubbles spiraled in a burst, making you fight against the warm mass pressing you against the hard stone, but also stiffening your nipples. 

“No! Let me go!” Your hands slapped against his chest and arms, legs kicking outward, trying to yank you from the cage of his presence. 

Swiftly, he trapped your wrists above your head. His hips pressed into you, immobilizing your legs. A whimper escaped your lips when you saw, and felt, how truly big and overpowering he was. Dark eyes stared at you from behind the creepy wolf mask. The snout and teeth of it still obscured fine details of his face, but up close you saw the sinister curve of his lips. 

“Oh, I will,” his promise didn’t bring you any relief; rather vowed a worse fate. “After all, we’re just getting started.” 

“What do you want?!” You jerked in his hold, but he didn’t allow you much movement.

“What we both want, little fox.” He leaned closer. Cold metal of his mask brushed your cheek as he moved to whisper in your ear - “To fuck you raw.”

The world stilled. Your heart stuttered its pace. Your eyes widened as you stared at the nameless, masked Alpha holding you in his clutches with the cruel confidence of a heartless executioner. However, your blood didn’t run cold, like it probably would if he laid the fate you expected at first - your death. 

As he revealed his hunger, a wave of heat swallowed you under.

“I don’t want it! I don’t-” you cried your protests, once again squirming against his hold. 

He laughed. A short bark of astoundingly soft, deep sound. 

The Alpha pressed closer against you, causing your boobs to squish against his broad chest. He undoubtedly could feel the poke of your stiffened nipples. So imposing. So damn scary. You were a step away from pissing yourself from fear. Or was it some other kind of wetness… 

“Don’t you?” He teased, rolling his hips against your lower belly. 

You squeaked, shaking your head. 

Slightly leaning back, he looked down at you. His irises, still shadowed, glinted something menacing. He gripped one of your wrists in one of his hands and lowered your arm. Then brought it to his torso. He made you splay your fingers over his pectoral, made you feel the pleasant warmth of his skin and the muscle straining beneath it. 

Slowly, he guided your fingers down his naked chest; forcing you to trail the ridges of carved muscles. Down, and down, and down, where the golden trail of short hair under his belly button darkened as it led underneath the waistband of his pants.

Your breast swelled, even as your mind fought to make yourself nauseous at the thought of being made to cup his bulge. 

But he didn’t force you to touch it. Instead, he moved your hand to your own belly. Fingers uncurled from around your wrist and his whole palm covered yours. So fucking bigger than your own. 

He pressed his fingers on top of yours, then slid them beneath the waistband of your shorts. Pushed them deeper, until they covered your heated pussy. You tried to stop your gasp as he forced one of your digits (along with his own) to spread your cut. 

He made you rub your tingling clit; short swipes over the already slick button. 

Then he yanked your hands out, bringing your glistening fingers up into the faint light. Shame and dread stirred tears in your eyes. You really didn’t want to respond to that beast of a man, why was your body betraying you? 

A zap of current snapped from your chest down to your clit when the Alpha flicked his tongue against your wet fingertip then suckled on it. 

“Don’t worry,” he nipped your finger, “I still want you to keep repeating how much you don’t want it.” 

You couldn’t help the quiver that rocked your body. He was getting off on you fighting him. 

“Aw, no need for that face, my sweet fox.” He cooed. “I won’t just break you for my amusement. I’m not a poor excuse of an Alpha like Brenner.”

“No. You’re not meant to be used and tossed out. You’re meant to be owned.” He swiped his hand over your head in a gentle caress. “Which is why I broke twenty bones in Brenner’s body before I gutted him.”

“If you run far enough you might find him. I could-” his lips curved in a wicked grin- “fuck you next to his body.” 

“That’s disgusting!” You blurted out, making a face, not sure if you were more repulsed by the gruesome murder he just depicted, or the idea of being fucked next to a corpse. 

“That’s the law of nature.” His tone switched to a cold, unyielding harshness that terrified you. His hand, which stroked you just a moment ago, now curled around the front of your neck.

“The bigger predator kills the smaller one-” he pressed against you again, crushing you into the wall- “Then rightfully takes the Omega’s tight cunt and breeds her full.” 

Feeling of dread poured over you with a heavy mass, but within that clogging weight pulsed something hot; sizzling in the synapses that seemed to awake in the unused parts of your brain. 

The Wolf didn’t choke you, but you didn’t dare to shake your head in response to his words. Only your eyes brimmed with salty tears as you stared up into the cold mask. 

“Now run, little fox. I want to execute my fucking law.” 

His fingers spasmed lightly around your neck, for a flicker of a moment before he was releasing you from his grip completely. He took a step back. 

It wasn’t freedom nor mercy. It was an appetizer to a monster’s feast. Yet you couldn’t make yourself stay in place, or drop down to plead for mercy. Somehow you knew it wouldn’t come. Not in the form you hoped for. 

You started forward, begging the darkness to swallow you. The corridor kept stretching and stretching further, neverending. Sconces of light thinned, turning the spiral labyrinth scarier, though at the same time it fed you false hope of getting so lost in the shadows that the Alpha wouldn’t find you. 

Blood rushed through your veins, filling your head with crashing waves. Through it, the echo of your heart sang a staccato of trepidation. With a growing, melodic thrum that struck your body like it was a violin - plucking at strain chords, and each tremble reverberated straight to your pussy.

You didn’t want to comprehend why your body responded to scary violence. Your focus was on escaping, not on what the Alpha would do to you once he caught you. 

But there was no light at the end of that tunnel, only the prospect of a beast pinning you down and ravishing you in a most primal way. 

Another inner chord struck, vibrating with an aroused hum that rippled through your whole body. 

The harder you tried to run, the more excitement bubbled. When you heard heavy footsteps behind you, your core pulsed. As you feared being fucked against your will, your cunt primed itself for the painful pleasure. 

It was madness.

It was wild. 

And when the massive body of the Alpha collided with yours the sound that left your throat wasn’t a shrill scream, but something more guttural. Animalistic. 

He didn’t shield you from the harsh ground; your hands and knees scraped against the cold stones as he pushed you down. One hand gripped the fabric of your top, the other yanked at your shorts. There was no teasing, no gently built threat, but a hungry determination. 

“No!” You tried to kick back at him, but your bare foot made no impression on the steel muscles in his thick thigh. 

Fabric of your top ripped at the seams, useless scraps falling down. Graze of cold steel along your bare back was followed by a warm, wet swipe of tongue. Soft lips brushed your skin, only to bruise it with a nip of sharp teeth a second later. 

He didn’t explore your body like a passionate lover might, but rather devoured - greedy and insatiable. 

A large palm cupped one of your breasts. A nearly tender swipe of a thumb over your nipple, then a squeeze, a pinch. It skated the edge of pain, yet your other breast felt abandoned and cold. Some part of you was looking to snarl if he wouldn’t deliver attention there. 

Shocked by that thought, and the magnitude of inadequate reaction of your body, you attempted to scramble forward. 

He grabbed your hips, yanking you back. Your ass slammed right into his pelvis, the hardness of his cock against your asscheek froze you. Though it wasn’t only terror. There was… curiosity.

Which snapped when the Alpha pulled your shorts down your thighs. 

There was nothing slow in his movements. Each grip and rip were hungry and sharp. A continuation of the chase, even as he had you splayed beneath him. 

A stinging slap that made you cry out. Hands spreading your thighs wider. A knee forced between them, trapping the fabric of your bottoms to the ground. 

“Fucking primed for me.” He groaned in delight, swiping between your wet folds with brutal fingers. 

“Do you like it like that, little fox?” Two of his fingers stretched your hole; his other hand clamping on one of your shoulders and holding you in place. 

“Do you like being my prey?” Cruel words brushed along your skin, following the cool touch of the wolf mask’s snout. “Being chased and caught. Forced to the ground. Powerless against me.” 

He kissed the back of your neck. Then bit it. Without breaking skin, but he put enough force into it to undoubtedly leave a mark. The mask’s metal canines scraped your skin, as well. 

“About to get fucked-” his fingers drove into you mercilessly; your slick sprinkling onto his hand. 

“Don’t- don’t- don’t-” you chanted pleadings with a teary voice, yet your hips kept eagerly rocking back against his hand.  

“I’m going to split that tight cunt on my fat cock.” He growled; tightening his grip on your shoulder, he pressed your chest down to the ground. “I will make you take every fucking inch, keep you on it even if you sob it’s too much.” 

His fingers withdrew with a squelching sound; flickers of embarrassment fell flat compared to the flames of frustrated need that trickled down your inner thigh. 

The sound of a zipper being undone made you shiver. You shook your head frantically, tears wetting your eyelashes. Alpha’s hand moved from your shoulder to the back of your head. He grabbed a fistful of your hair, close to the roots.  

“I’m going to fuck you right here.” You felt the press of velvet hot, tapered tip against your hole. “On the ground, in the dirt. Rough and raw. Until your body burns through the pain and pleasure, until you're a numb ruin that feels nothing but the slosh of my cum filling you.”

Fingers digging into the meat of your hip, he pushed in. A single stroke that buried him to the hilt before your loud cry at the intrusion ceased into a whimper. 

Maybe it was a mercy that he didn’t toy with you, didn’t make you suffer prolonged slide, feeding you inch by inch of that big - too big - cock. Just a savage thrust that conquered your cunt. 

It burned, yet your pussy fluttered around his girth, rolling out a welcoming flood. 

However, as he started to withdraw, the stretch of him against your walls seemed to grow. Not along his whole length, but close to the base that somehow resisted against the tight rim of your opening. 

Your cunt clenched as a long whine strung out of your throat. 

“Stop! Ah! Stop, wait!” You struggled, attempting to crawl away from the new, maddening sensation. But you couldn’t move, the Alpha’s strength outmatching yours by a ton. 

“Feeling that?” His vicious chuckle tickled the shell of your ear. “That’s my little surprise for you, Omega.” 

He surged into you again, quieting your distress with fullness then renewing it with that wide impossible pressure. 

“Our ancestors had knots. Additional girth designed to inflate at the climax and hold Omega in place on the Alpha’s cock, keeping her nicely stretched and plugged so all that virile cum would fill her to the brim.”

It couldn’t be. It was impossible! Those traits devolved and ceased to exist. There were no rumors even of anyone for the past century to have any suspicion of an Alpha with a knot. 

The potential of it, weaved with the cruelly sinful voice of the monstrous Alpha filling your pussy, shot a star-bright impulse that speared into some hidden, latent part of your brain. Fear of being ripped, after all your body wasn’t equipped to take it (or so you thought), spiked in your blood. 

But then the haze clouded at the edge of your vision. Heat unfurled further, pulsing low in your core. Your pussy spasmed, somehow eager to be stretched beyond what she could take. 

“Oh, do you like that idea, my needy fox?” He rocked slowly in and out, shallow barely-there movement that kept widening your hole. 

“Pity it’s just an echo of the past.” He sighed. “A bonus from strong genes that formed a latent knot at my base. Wish it could fully expand.” 

His fingers dug harder into your hip, holding you in place as he began withdrawing fully. Slowly. 

“You’d scream so prettily when it stretched you.” His voice deepened, turning hungrier and darker as you keened, struggling to stand the stretch. “You would come so fucking hard on it. Cream all over the knot. Wet yourself and me.” 

Tears splattered the stone under your face, a tinge of saltiness from your terror and an abundance of sweetness from the insane pleasure that had no right to accompany that situation. 

Yet it did. It kept increasing, too. 

“As you will now.” The Wolf gritted, pulling the fattest part out then plunging back in.

“Ahhh!” Your toes curled, vision blurring completely - be it from the tears or the abrupt burst of pleasure that crushed your body. 

Orgasms like that shouldn’t be possible. It felt like something beyond the norm of sensations a body was able to stand. Intense. Continuous. Rooted in awareness of being helpless and overpowered. 

Ringing in your ears that erupted with your climax slowly quieted down, even as your body still twitched from the aftershocks. Soon your consciousness was back to registering the dark quiet of the hell’s corridor, filled with marks of your shame - the slap of skin against skin, the sticky wet response of your pussy welcoming predator’s cock, your little choked cries. Ah ah ah ah.

“Fuck, that’s it!” The Alpha grunted above you. 

His mask hit the side of your head as he rutted into you. Harder. Deeper. The hand in your hair gave another harsh tug as his hot breath sang a humid chant against your skin.  

“I knew you’d respond so well. All that fight and fear making your pussy cling to my cock. So needy for me, isn’t it?” You wanted to shake your head in denial, but your walls contracted in submissive confirmation. 

It should be repulsive. In sync with the remnants of the fight that spurred you to attempt escaping at all cost. Yet each thrust of his thick cock, each filthy word and low grunt of his depraved pleasure, fed something desperate inside of you.

An emptiness you never noticed. 

Which awoke with the rush of terror and adrenaline, stirring instincts about which you only read in old books. And a part of you realized the need to fight him, to claw your way out of this hell, wasn’t for a voice of reason, but to please the Alpha further. To tune into his game and willingly turn yourself into prey he gets to break.  

“That’s what you’re made for, Omega. To take your Alpha’s cock and cum. Anywhere. Anytime.” He moved the hand from your hair to grip your other hip, firmly holding you in place as his pace grew savage. 

“Yeah, keep taking it!” He snarled, snapping his hips harder.

The crown of his cock lodged so deep it threatened to kiss your cervix. Despite the risk of pain, you grew impossibly wetter. Or maybe it was his girth, stretching your snug walls. Perhaps a twisted composition of everything, including the helplessness of being pinned to the ground and taken against your will. 

“Fuck! Fuck, I hope it takes.” His rumbly groan had your body tensing. 

This time you shook your head, whimpering a scared No. You reached forward, clawing at the stones beneath you in a futile attempt to somehow move away from him. He didn’t allow it. With a bruising grip he yanked you back onto his cock with a force that burst stars under your eyelids. 

“Oh yes, little fox. I’m going to breed you.” His tone bore not a tinge of cruel amusement, but a dark delight, as if it was his biggest dream coming true.  

A bunch of particles in your mind ignited with that, like a beacon responding to a call you’ve been waiting for your whole life. 

It sprinkled warm contentment along with the rush of extreme panic over the finality of your fate. You realized there was never a chance of changing it, no matter how fast and far you ran. Falling prey to this Alpha had been decided the second you stepped into the deepest circle of Inferno. Maybe even earlier.

Despite muttering broken objections, your moans grew louder with each thrust of his cock. A burst of euphoria and demand for more ruin, urging the Alpha with keening and the arch of your back.

“I’m going to fill your cunt with my cum over and over,” he growled, growing frantic in his pace, “-day after day, and watch you grow round with it.” 

“And it will take. But fuck I hope it takes right now!” Most of his weight draped over you, pinning you to the ground and rendering you breathless. The filth spilling from his mouth in a primal rumble made your cunt flutter. 

“Hope that I knock you up when you’re still fighting it, when you cry how you don’t want it, while your pussy milks me greedily and your womb opens up for my seed.” 

If heat and trebling were wrecking your body up to this point, his last words caused an eruption. A climax that snapped through you with blinding force. And it continued to spread in waves.

“Do you want that, Omega? Want your Alpha to breed you?” He rutted into you in short jerks, keeping his cock balls deep and twitching right at the threshold. 

“Please, please, please…” your hoarse voice bounced against the stone floor as your pussy clenched and gushed.

Your orgasm boiled, refusing to cease. Painful pleasure behind it coming not from your overstimulated cunt, but as if something else deep inside you awoke with relish at the thought of being bred by the monster. 

The Wolf responded with a roar. His hands bruised your hips as he slammed into you for the final time. 

Hot spill filled your pulsing cunt. An overabundance that strained the walls of your core.

He buried his face in your hair; heavy breath puffing in hot, wet gusts against your temple. His voice seemed to break for a second, turning from a shout to a purring moan. It almost felt comforting to have his warm weight blanketing you and his sounds of contentment praising your submission. 

When he moved off your body a while later, shivers followed in his wake. Along with an embarrassing gush of fluids dripping out of your used pussy. 

You dropped down and curled on your side, still breathing hard. Your heart was hammering in your chest, your head felt dizzy. Tingling sensation buzzed in so many spots on your skin where he bit, scratched and gripped you. 

“Absolute perfection.” The Alpha hummed, watching your broken form splayed on the ground before him. 

He was kneeling up; his pants unzipped and pushed down just under his ass. His thick cock was reddened and glistening with your juices and streaks of his own cum. Glancing at it, you couldn’t help the whimper escaping your lips. 

You felt how big it was, how that engorged base stretched you beyond limit, but seeing it brought a new spike of heated fear. 

Because he made it clear that you’d be taking it many more times. 

“That’s how I want you in my bed.” His gaze roamed over your body. “A boneless mess full of my seed.”

You whined when he rolled you onto your back and pushed your knees apart. 

You slapped your hands against his chest, lacking strength but still trying to somehow push him away. With a grunt he settled on top of you. His waist fit between your spread thighs. Wet cock rubbing against your belly. 

“Yeah!” Lips curving into a smile, he encouraged you: “Keep fighting!”

Each slap, each scratch of your nails, each squirm, they seemed to turn him on. You hated him for it, yet couldn’t stop yourself from giving him exactly what he wanted.

Exactly what some twisted part of you enjoyed, as well. 

On your next hit you managed to square on the side of his face, knocking off the monstrous metal mask off his face. It fell to the ground right next to you and you saw his face for the first time. 

You froze, staring up at him. Your fists rested against his broad chest, suddenly depleted of energy to continue your fight. 

Out of all the terrible images your mind could conjure of the Alpha behind the mask, you never expected it to be him. 

With blue eyes so striking they could slice you open like scalpel. They were darker now, irises swallowed by blown wide pupils full of hunger. Stern lines and menacing cold of his usual expression softened with flush and glow. Strands of dark golden hair fell across his forehead in a disarray.

“M-Mr Rogers?” You gasped.

“It’s Alpha, for you,” his chuckle was soft, almost affectionate. “Or Steve, if you’re feeling exceptionally devoted.” 

With a coo, he gripped your wrists in his hand and forced your arms above your head. He readjusted his position, pulling one of your knees to your chest and rolling his hips until his cock was nudging at your soaked opening. 

“Ngh! Too much!” You strained beneath him, terrified of the mindblowing pleasure he could rip out of you in that most painful way. 

“But that’s how you like it, sweet fox.” Steve countered. “You like it when there’s more. More treasures to steal or trade. More challenges. Isn’t that why you stole that golden card? Because you craved what more it could lead to?”

“I didn’t know-” your voice hitched when he inched deeper.

“You knew it wasn’t yours to take. It wasn’t given to you. Neither was the information about the elevator being left open.” Steve slowly pushed in, relishing in the resistance of your pussy, as if he hadn’t ruined it mere minutes before. 

“You dared to do it. You took it for yourself. As I am taking you for myself.” 

A wave of embarrassment swallowed you and Steve grinned, most pleased, when the wet squelch of your cunt filled the air. 

“But I’ll let you in on a secret,” his grin turned dark, a reflection of the ruthless wolf cast in the mask. “I set it all up for you. I hoped you wouldn’t be able to resist. But… if you didn’t steal the card and step into my trap yourself, I’d still take you.” 

“I told you, I know everything about what happens in the city.” He reminded you. “I knew about your group causing trouble for a while. Their demise has been signed for weeks now. As was your fate to cream all over my cock and bear me children.” 

He punctuated the last part with a snarl, bottoming out.

A lightning zapped down your spine, arching you toward your tormentor with possessed worship. 

You weren’t used to such wild fucking, and the previous raw orgasms left you so sensitive. Each greedy thrust elicited a whimper. But it was followed by a moan as sparks reignited low in your belly, threatening to rapidly bring you to another climax. 

“You sound so sweet when you struggle to take me.” Steve grunted, licking a stripe of your skin salty with sweat and dirt. 

He sucked on a spot on your throat, then mouthed along your collarbone where he mauled your skin into another mark. His tongue wrote wet sins over your breasts as he kept fucking into you with deep strokes. 

The hand from under your knee moved to your face, gripping your jaw between his fingers. Your lips were parted on strings of gasps, but his hold forced them open wider. 

Your eyes widened when a dab of spit landed on your tongue. Instead of disgust, however, your body shuddered in complete surrender, rolling your eyes to the back of your skull. 

Then Steve’s lips were staking the claim of your mouth. Feral and dominating. His own growly moan vibrated along your tongue. He swallowed your cries that grew when you sensed his pace picking up and realized he was about to come and fill you again. 

“I’m so close, Omega,” Steve panted against your lips. “Gonna fill you. You want that, don’t you? Want your Alpha’s cum deep in your tight cunt.” 

He slid his hand between your bodies, kneading and pinching in his way southward. When his fingers circled your swollen clit you bucked wildly, knees drawing up, toes curling. 

“That’s it, come for your Alpha. Soak up all that cum. Be a good breeding bitch and take it!” 

You surrendered with a hoarse cry. Your muscles shook with strain, so many spots skating the edge of a painful cramp. With how hard your walls clenched around Steve’s cock it was a shocking miracle he was able to spear deeper. You felt him throb; a pulsating sensation teasing your overworked pussy. 

Pleasure and exhaustion rendered you boneless. You went lax beneath the bulk of the monster that defiled you, letting his warmth coat you as he kept his body like a shield over you. 

The abundance of his seed made your abdomen feel inflated. The excess of it seeped out of you in a thin trickle, the Alpha’s cock still locking most of it inside of you. 

You hummed as he nosed along your cheek and down your neck. With your gaze blurry, you stared at the dimmed light casted by the sconces, wondering if that was your future now. To be lost in an ancient maze, warmed only by the unhinged affection of a savage Alpha. 

When sometimes later your worn body was lifted into strong arms, you didn’t even flinch. For the moment there was no fight in you left as the onslaught has left you exhausted. You pressed your cheek to his shoulder, keeping your own fingers interlaced and resting on your chest. 

Then he set the scary wolf mask in your lap. Hollow eyes stared up at you, provoking you to whimper in fear and search the Alpha’s comforting warmth. Despite knowing he was the one wearing the mask, equalling him as terrifying and cruel, somehow it made all the difference when Steve’s eyes were peering at you from beneath that mask.

A flicker of life rejuvenated the last working particles of your brain when a brighter light appeared on your way. 

Steve was taking you back to the circular chamber of the ninth floor. 

It appeared much warmer and less intimidating after hours spent in the depths of shadows in the terrifying labyrinth. Though it remained the bottom of hell, with no route to escape. You doubted Steve would put you in the elevator and allowed you to return to your previous life.

Not with his clear intention to impregnate you. 

As Steve stepped onto the marble floor the light from the huge iron chandelier revealed not only the marks of Alpha’s insatiable hunger on your skin, but also three intimidating silhouettes. 

Monsters of Steve’s kin. Wearing masks similar to the one nestled in your lap. A lion, a bull, and a serpent.

Each oozed horror of a different kind. Their dark power shifted the atmosphere.

Icy terror gripped your chest. Was he going to let them-

“I stake claim.” Steve’s voice cut through your panicking thoughts with a sharp, cold cut. 

It was a declaration of unchangeable law. A vow of ownership set into the very foundation of the metropolis. It weaved itself into your bones, as well. 

A doom for you, but you pitied anyone who ever dared taking you away from Steve’s grasp. Though neither of the other monsters appeared angered by his selfish possessiveness. Their lack of interest in you was a relief. 

“What bond do you choose?” Asked the one wearing a bull’s mask.

Being so tired and aching, you couldn’t comprehend what they meant. When Steve put you down on your feet, your muscles refused to cooperate and your body nearly folded down in exhaustion. Steve held you up, wrapping one of his arms around your middle. 

He didn’t care that his mask dropped to the floor, the wolf’s empty gaze staring up at you in the Alpha’s clutches. Steve grabbed a fistful of your hair with his other hand, tilting your head to the side. 

“I choose a traditional one.” His possessive growl caressed the skin of your neck.  

“A bite.”

He didn’t give you a second to prepare for the dark intention of his words. Pain burst in your neck where Steve sank his teeth in, piercing through your skin and drawing a flow of blood. 

Your body jerked in his hold, feet scraping against the smooth marble. Your high pitched shriek rolled into a broken sob, that soon dissipated into a lifeless moan. Consciousness escaped you as fast as your blood dripped down your naked chest.  

As the heavy fog engulfed you, a trice repeated “Claim witnessed” jingled in the back of your head. 

Then it was darkness. Your body shut down, granting you blissful unawareness.

When you blinked away the haze - much much later - marble and stone were gone, replaced by a soft gray glow of early morning that peered through the dark trunks of thick trees. You were in the back of a car that drove through the forests. Far outside of the city.

Though you sensed the Alpha’s presence right beside you, you chose to stare out the tinted window at the view so foreign and wild. You’ve never stepped further than the outskirts of the city. 

Then again, you never had savage, filthy sex either. Never came so hard, much less from fear and being overpowered. 

Your sore body was wrapped in a soft suit jacket. Steve’s undoubtedly. It was big enough to cover your ass and for the sleeves to reach your knuckles. You slipped your fingers beneath the collar, feeling around the spot burning with dull pain. 

Where he bit you.

Soft dressing covered the wound. It seemed it wasn’t bleeding anymore, which meant you were out for quite a while. 

“Fitting,” you croaked out, “that a wolf lives in the forest.”

You sensed his gaze on you, evoking that deep-core shiver you couldn’t differentiate anymore between trepidation and exhilaration. But you didn’t turn to him yet. You didn’t have the courage to look into his blue eyes and see the reflection of your own ruin. 

His large, warm hand rested just above your ankle; thumb rubbing your skin in slow motion.

“Fitting for a fox, too,” came his reply. “Especially when you start nesting.”

“I’m not nesting.” Despite being unable to raise your voice - your throat scraped raw from all the sounds he drew from you all night - you snapped at him quietly. 

His caress on your calf paused. His fingers tightened, squeezing your limb in a warning.

Resting against Ari’s warm, solid body, something in you awoke with a need to track. You can’t even say exactly what you were investigating, but your own body followed a ghost of an instinct. 

You leaned more into him, face buried into the crook of his neck as your nose rubbed against his neck. It was as if you were in a trance, needing to take in all of the scent and sate yourself with it similar to the way Ari’s cum placated the burning demands of your womb. 

Scenting. The term comes to you suddenly. 

Ages ago, when the designations were still in full capacity of their traits and instincts, people supposedly smelled in specific ways. Nuzzling into someone’s neck or wrist in chase of that scent was either an invitation to sex, or a way to soothe yourself. It especially worked between Alphas and Omegas. 

But there are no scents anymore; nothing beyond perfume, anyway. Ari doesn’t smell of anything special. Just remnants of sweat, transference of your own body wash, and his typical scent. You didn’t see his bottle of cologne - not that you were looking for it - but whatever he used had distinctive ozone notes. 

And you definitely wouldn’t be seeking comfort in the Alpha who took you so brutally, reshaping your future to his desires. 

Different kinds of service were expected of Omegas at each level of the Inferno. The first circle of the so-called hell was for simple waitressing and it paid the lowest. If an Omega was accepted by the Inferno, they started at that level and had to prove themselves to be allowed into another floor. 

For the past eight months you rolled your hips in the third circle where Omegas were dancing on platforms and in cages, while the Alphas carried their business meetings, or leered at them without being allowed to touch. 

You were about to exchange your blue key card for the magenta one, descending into another level where the dances would be private, with some touching allowed. It meant the standard paycheck would be higher, plus the tips you might earn from any Alpha who asked for a dance from you. And those tips wouldn’t be in money only, but also certain passes or favors that were incredibly valuable in the cold, harsh world. 

Days of cushioned lives that Omegas led once upon a time were long forgotten. They sounded like fairytales when compared to the harsh reality of the past century. Omegas were at the bottom of the food chain now. Not even coveted as much by the Alphas as they used to be. Very few were swooped up and mated, most going through their lives scrambling to stay afloat and perhaps meet a nice, hardworking beta to form a relationship with. 

As you waited for Astoria (the woman who was possibly the most powerful Omega in the city, since she was the one managing Inferno and the Omegas working in it), your eyes scanned the colourful cards behind a reinforced glass case. 

Magenta was your goal from the very first time you were explained the rules of this place. For now, any colour assigned to deeper levers was too scary, because they meant less control over what happened to you. For example, the red that was appointed for the fifth level meant limited sexual acts. 

You didn’t want that. Even if the paycheck would make your life so much more comfortable. 

As much as you recoiled from the prospect of deeper circles of hell, you couldn’t help your gaze zeroing in on the single golden keycard. It was displayed in that glass cage at the very top, purposely making the lowest circle of hell appear as the highest advance. 

Neither the introduction to the club rules, nor the rumour mill among the Omegas gave away what happened on that level. 

Since from levels six to eight Omegas were giving their bodies for all sorts of sexual play, each more debauched and scary, you couldn’t even imagine what happened in the darkest pit. It was too terrifying to even think about. 

“It’s best you not consider earning it.” Astoria’s smooth, tinkling voice startled your attention away from the glass cage. 

The look she gave you wasn’t a reprimand, but rather a warning. From one Omega to another. 

While Astoria was a strict employer, a stickler for rules, she truly looked out for the Omegas. When you were developing a cold two months ago, she slipped you a package of meds which you wouldn’t be able to get yourself.

“Has anyone ever gotten it?” You asked, nodding toward the golden card. 

“No.” Astoria shook her head, then paused. “Though… There was an incident a year ago.”

“An incident?” You’ve been working at the Inferno for about a year and a half and you haven’t heard of any incident. They had to keep it secret, if there wasn’t even the briefest rumour about it.

“Someone stole it.” Astoria’s voice lowered into a hush. “Reckless girl was too curious for her own good. She wanted to see…”

Your stomach tightened in dread. The complete unknown was more terrifying than if you had an inkling on what could’ve happened to her down there. 

The golden card glimmered enticingly, undoubtedly luring many of the Omegas (especially those who already worked the lowest levels and their boundaries were partially blurred), but your interest in it disappeared immediately. 

“What happened to her?” You asked, nervously picking at the fringes of your white, short dress. 

Astoria opened her mouth, but before she could say anything another voice interrupted.

“She bore the consequences of her actions.”

It was a male voice. Deep, low and smooth in a way that felt like a thick drop of something sweet, like honey, slowly sliding down your body. It licked you with its timbre from your sternum to the valley below your belly button. 

As pleasant as it was, it also scared you with its dangerous potency.

Beside you, Astoria straightened like a string in a violin, her earlier open softness disappearing behind a well practiced mask of professionalism. And obedience, which you never saw in her posture at any other time. 

The man who walked in wasn’t only an Alpha. No, Astoria dealt with those without flinching. But there were Alphas and then there were Alphas. 

The true apex predators. 

There were very few of them, but they were rumored to be able to dominate other Alphas without much effort, as if they were meager Betas. 

“I’d say that her curiosity served Rogers well.” He added with a dark sort of amusement.

Your instincts shook in alarm. Any Alpha insinuating an Omega served them well was repulsive, but when it came from a predator like this one it evoked thoughts of complete ruin, of being forever broken. 

“Mr Levinson.” Astoria politely bowed her head. 

You knew you should drop your gaze down, too, but couldn’t help yourself but look at the Alpha that strode in. 

His big, beefy body was fitting for an Alpha of his power. Everything about him looked thick and imposing, even with the seemingly relaxed stance he presented. Golden rings glinted on his fingers as he combed them through his lush hair. As he swiped his hand over his beard, you saw a glimpse of a bleeding sun tattoo on the back of his hand, ink dripping onto his knuckles. 

When he moved forward, you tensed in fear, finally tilting your chin down and staring at the floor. 

Levinson. It finally ringed in your head with recognition. 

One of the four men owning the Inferno. 

Perhaps, it was more fitting to name them the four horsemen, considering they created this hell. 

“What’s in store for this sweet Snowdrop, Astoria?” Ari asked, circling your shivering form. 

You didn’t dare to ask if the unexpected petname came from your white dress, or because he deemed you so fragile and crushable. 

“She’s worked blue level for the past eight months.” Astoria’s voice was back to her unwavering, professional tone. Detached from any protectiveness or sympathy she might’ve felt for you. “She’s been promoted to magenta, supposed to start tonight.”

Levinson hummed behind you. Though he didn’t lean over, nor touched you, a jolt of unwanted caress slid down your spine. If that Alpha chose to really touch you, not only you wouldn’t be able to fight him off, but your body would give in at the snap of his fingers; that’s how powerful his Alpha aura was to your Omega hindbrain. 

Slowly, Ari circled you again. His gaze swiped over every inch of you, mapping out your curves, each dip and roll. 

When he tucked a finger beneath your chin a hot jolt started your heart into a frenzy. The merest touch, but it filled you with terror. He tilted your chin up, forcing your head to lift and give him a full, unobscured view of your face. 

“No.” He said unexpectedly, releasing you. 

Taking a step back, he turned to Astoria and declared: “She stays on the blue level.” 

Without waiting for any counterargument, he walked out of the office. He knew there would be no arguing. Astoria wouldn’t plead for you. Hell, you wouldn’t plead for yourself. 

Well, inside of you there was this fussy, outraged voice demanding you be given the opportunity, but you also knew that clashing with this Alpha would be like scratching at a wall. If he didn’t find you annoying to the point of breaking your neck, he’d be at least completely unbothered. Merciless. 

Heartless. 

Astoria muttered a quiet sorry, which you welcomed with a small, sad smile. Clutching your blue keycard in your hand, you returned to your former level, telling yourself it was at least something you knew well and felt comfortable with. Besides, you were still employed. That was a big win every day. 

By the time you returned to your home in the early morning hours, you felt calm and content. Yes, there was still the lingering disappointment at being denied promotion, but you anchored yourself to the stability you still had. 

As you walked into your apartment building, you reminded yourself it was the blue level at the Inferno that allowed you to move out of the shitty, very dangerous block you used to live in and into this place. Which still was on the poorer side, but at least the entrance doors were locked and the intendant living on the ground floor was a very sweet, protective Beta who looked out for his tenants. 

You paused, after walking into your small apartment and closing the door. Something felt slightly shifted, as if a streak of something not quite familiar lingered in the air. 

You gulped, clutching your keyes between your fingers as you moved further inside. 

Nothing was moved, not even an inch. There was no one lurking inside as you turned on the lights. Even a few tiny leaves that dropped from your fern were drying on the same spot on the floor. 

You shook your head, accepting that your exhaustion and the unexpected interaction with the most powerful Alpha have simply made you more jumpy. 

Besides, you told yourself as you started taking off your clothes, Jake - the Beta intendant - wouldn’t let anyone break in. He was a sweetheart, but he once kicked the ass of a piece of shit wet cat Alpha who came drunk to harass his ex-girlfriend.

Placated by self-reassurance, you continued your usual routine. Snack, shower, sleep. 

For the next few weeks your life continued the same. At some point you even stopped longingly thinking of the magenta level, though it still popped occasionally into your mind when your knee acted up and reminded you that a doctor’s appointment or physiotherapy would be wonderful, if you could afford it.

Nothing suggested your life was about to change. Not in a big way. 

Until the evening two guards intercepted you at the employees entrance to the Inferno to relay the request that you go into Astoria’s office. Which in itself wouldn’t be much alarming, if they didn’t insist you give them your blue keycard. 

Were you being fired?

With your heart in your throat, you stepped into the office. Into an empty office. Astoria wasn’t inside. However, there was an envelope on her desk propped against a vase with a single white flower, with your name written on the back of the stationary. 

Inside was a simple direction to get into the private elevator. 

Surely, you wouldn’t be given permission and code to that elevator, if she wanted to fire you. Inferno had three elevators to take participants to each level - one was for employees, you included, a second one for the patrons, and the third one was for Astoria and possibly the four owners. 

With trembling fingers, you hit the provided code on the lock and walked into the elevator. The door slid shut behind you silently. Ominous semi-darkness engulfed you. Inside, there were no buttons, no panel to control where the elevator went, no way to stop it, or open it yourself.

There was, however, another envelope with your name on it attached to the wall. 

When you opened it and looked inside, your knees nearly gave away. 

The golden keycard glinted at you.

That one mysterious card, which you learned two months ago was best to never be given. To never desire it. 

“Oh God!” You cried quietly, dropping it onto the floor and huddling in the corner of the small space. 

The elevator was still going down. It felt like being dragged to the literal pit of hell. 

When it finally stopped and the door slid open, you stayed plastered with your back to the elevator wall. Perhaps, if you pretended you weren’t there, if you didn’t step outside, you’d be taken back upstairs. 

But the elevator remained open. Soft, dimmed light of the bottom floor didn’t feel inviting at all. Not to you. 

Long minutes passed and nothing happened. The elevator didn’t close, but also no one barged in to drag you outside. Restlessness increased, pumped by your growing nervousness and fear. You were scared of the rage that could greet you the longer you stayed hidden. And you became more convinced that the elevator wouldn’t be your return to safety. 

Maybe that floor would provide you a different route of escape?

After all, each level had three elevator shafts - private, for guests, and for employees. 

Swallowing nervously, you tried to remember at what angle the other two elevators should be once you entered the floor. If you ran fast towards one of them, you could get yourself to the ground floor and run the fuck outside. 

Your steps were hesitant as you shuffled to the exit and took first glimpses inside the lowest level of the Inferno. What you saw made your heart drop.

It wasn’t a grand, wide space like it was with all the other levels. 

It was a round chamber, with marble floor, stone walls reaching high to an intricate ceiling from which dropped a huge iron chandelier. There was a large round table in the middle of the chamber. Four chairs stood at it like four points on a compass, directing north, south, east and west.

Each chair had a different crest carved on it. 

Lion. Wolf. Bull. Serpent.

No other elevator shafts were visible. Only a closed double door above which a sign ominously warned:

Lasciate ogni speranza, voi ch’entrate.

Abandon all hope, you who enter.

Though you thought your own hope to have evaporated as the elevator descended, the last remnants of it died this very moment. As you stared at the chamber with no visible escape route and the famous words of final doom. 

“Don’t worry, Snowdrop. You won’t be pushed through that door.” 

Your head turned to the side, only now noticing the familiar, imposing silhouette of the Alpha. Ari Levinson was leaning against the wall right next to the elevator, with his arms crossed over his chest and his head tilted to the side as he watched you tether on the edge of the floor. 

“The darkness behind it is not in my tastes,” he explained casually, like he was talking about not being a fan of whiskey compared to red wine. 

“Wh- why am I here?” You asked, twisting your fingers in front of you and eyeing him warily. 

“I didn’t apply for the golden card!” You rushed to express.

“No one does.” Ari shrugged. “Or, well, those who apply don’t ever get it. Only one person before got it, as you know, but that was because she dared to steal it.”

“So why?” You feared hearing horrifying promises of spilled blood in slow, painful murder. 

“Because you lured the beast.” His eyes ignited with dark hunger and you felt the lick of it between your thighs. 

Ari moved and you took an instant step back, slamming your back against the edge of the elevator door frame. But he wasn't prowling your way. Instead, he lazily walked towards one of the chairs. 

The one with the lion crest.

He draped his forearms against the backrest of the chair, intertwining his inked fingers in a loose grip. That's when you noticed the golden glint of his rings, from which one presented a lion's head.

“Four beasts rule this world.” His words could be a fascinating tale, if he wasn't speaking the dark, ugly truth of what laid beneath your reality.

“In Inferno we provide the opportunity for some to sate their desires, but we don't participate. Meetings in this chamber aren't focused on our personal lust, but on deciding whose blood to spill and which power to snatch.”

“However-” he paused to lick his lips and you couldn't help but chase that micromovement. “Each of us has cravings that we know would demand satiating at one point. Hence the golden card. It was never going to be earned. It's decided individually by each of us when to play that card, because it's a game that won't be repeated.”

“Won't be repeated?” You echoed, trembling as the terrifying vision of death loomed over you.

“Meaning, my innocent Snowdrop, that once one of us gets someone down here they never return to their previous life.” 

Tears welled in your eyes, your breath choking on a sob. Your life wasn’t grand, but you still liked it. You wanted it to continue, despite the hardships you endured.

“It means you're mine now.” Ari's voice deepened into a hungry growl. “Your virginity is mine to take and your womb mine to fill with seed.”

His words tipped your world on its axis. A hot wave of shame that his crude words evoked dropped into ice cold dread as you realized the fate he spun for you.

He wasn't going to murder you. But he was about to break you and bind you to him forever. 

“No!” You shook your head, clenching your hands into fists. 

Ari wasn't bothered by your reaction, like he knew it didn’t matter because he'd get what he wanted anyway.

“If it's your poor attempt to lie to me about your innocent state, I'll remind you I have free access to your medical file.” He sent you a knowing look.

Inferno provided Omegas with an annual check up that included gynecological examination. It wasn't because they cared for Omegas, it was to provide clients with the best quality entertainment. If Omega's results turned out bad, they were dropped immediately and left to fend for themselves. 

“If you're fighting the inevitable,” a dangerous smirk curved his lips, “I could give you a good, scary chase and fight. But, honestly, that's not my taste.” 

Slowly, Ari straightened to his full height. He rolled his shoulders and clenched his fingers around the corners of the sturdy, carved chair.

“I want you to give yourself to me. You're going to splay yourself on that table and welcome my fat cock into your tight, virgin cunt.”

Another spike of heat unfurled in your belly and chest, shocking and scaring you more than the Alpha's words did. 

Was his Alpha power influencing you so much, or was there a part of you that wanted his brutal promise to become reality?

“You wanted to get onto magenta level because it pays better.” Ari pointed out. “It's also why a golden card is a mad dream for many. ‘Cause they imagine the paycheck and comfort it could provide for them and their families.”

“But there won't be a one time pay for this. No more paychecks anymore. Instead, you'll have all the care and comforts daily. You'll have that knee of yours checked. Regular physio. Stocked fridge, nice clothes, your sister and her Beta husband's molded apartment dried.”

“All of that for being my good Omega, taking my cock and bearing me children.” 

Your core filled with heat as your mind bent under the weight of filthy images. Trying to shake it away didn’t work. Your usual numbness to Alpha’s presence and your own basic instincts was frayed at the edges, crumbling the more time you stood there trapped with the Alpha. 

What he promised for the doom couldn’t be overlooked, either. If not for your own health, then for your sister. They had a baby who was constantly sick, because of the moldy walls and malfunctioning heat. Levinson had near limitless resources, so fixing someone’s apartment would for him be like spending pocket change.

Unrushed, he moved from behind the chair to stand next to the table. He tapped his fingertips against the painted wooden surface. 

And waited, watching you with all the patience in the world. 

“It’ll happen, Snowdrop.” He said it with no malice, but there was an unyielding force behind it. As calm and soft he appeared to treat you, his darkness wouldn’t recede. No mercy awaited.

“And yes, it will hurt your virgin pussy when I split it on my dick.” You didn’t take your eyes off his face, so you didn’t see how his cock twitched in his pants at the mere thought of breaking you. “But if you make me go there for you and take what I already declared mine, it will hurt more. So be a good Omega and come here.”

You never liked pain. All your struggles, while you dealt with them, never honed you into someone immune to suffering. No, you were still very human and fragile, and if there were ways to limit your pain, you were going to take it. 

So despite sniffling on another sob, you shuffled your feet forward. Tiny step after another. Ari didn’t rush you. Quite the opposite, watching you walk to him heightened his hunger. It was like a foreplay increasing his arousal close to the tipping point. 

“ ‘Atta girl,” he praised when your toes touched his boots. 

Then big, strong hands were gripping your hips and hoisting you onto the table. One gasp of surprise transformed into a yelp when Ari gripped the fabric of your dress and ripped it apart with his bare hands. Your bra followed. Then your underwear. 

You were bared to him completely. Breath quickened and body trembling as he towered over you. 

“Lie back.” Ari ordered.

Your heart pounded in your chest, echo of it resounded in your ears and fingertips, pulsing wilder and wilder. The table beneath you didn’t feel that bad, but it was the Alpha in front of you, devouring you with his gaze that promised bad things happening. 

Bad, scary things, yet still some deep, primitive part of you roused at the prospect. There was an ache low in your belly, making your pussy walls clench as you watched Ari loom over you. 

A jolt made your body spasm when his fingers brushed your naked skin. A tender brush over your knees teasing upwards, along your thighs, over your belly, across your breasts. He skimmed them down again and back up, rousing your body into response beyond your control. 

“Spread your legs.” He growled another command, landing a slap to your thigh when you didn’t comply immediately. 

It was so humiliating. Baring your most intimate part to a ruthless Alpha. 

“Such a pretty pussy,” he splayed his hands on the inside of your thighs and rubbed his thumbs along the outline of your folds. “It’s going to look even prettier hugging my dick.” 

He didn’t outright stimulate your folds or clit, just teased the nerves around. Then his palms smoother upwards, fingers spread wide over the curve of your belly.

“You’ll be so full of me. Grow round with our children.” 

As he looked at your naked body in dark victory and hunger, you trembled at the image of his face glowing in malicious triumph when he stared at your pregnant form. 

Reduced to the object of an Alpha’s wicked desire, yet some deeply hidden satisfaction, almost rusted like a forgotten, ancient treasure, stirred from the shadows. 

Through the past century the designations have crumbled from the once admirable and coveted. As the world turned cold, jaded and brutal, certain traits started disappearing. Like the DNA of the people itself had receded, instead of evolving. Though, perhaps, it was an evolution towards the harsh reality you now lived in. 

Legends of Alphas’ instinct to protect and provide seemed laughable, since you hadn’t met a single Alpha who would even be kind. There were no alluring scents, unless someone soaked themselves in perfume. Ruts and heats have devolved - which was praised as something that rooted out primal behaviors, but on the other hand seemed to turn everyone unresponsive. 

You didn’t need to worry about going into an unexpected heat, or having to splurge on suppressants, but you never felt desired. Nor felt a craving so deep it messed with your own mind.

However, as you laid spread on the table like a sacrifice for the lion, a lick of something heady and scorching hot stirred the latent Omega inside of you. 

As terrifying Ari’s plan for your future sounded, a part of you snuggled into that prospect as if it was a safe cushion in the most luxurious bed. 

“Suck.” Ari tapped your lips with two of his fingers.

Your mouth opened instantly and his digits slid in, pressing against your tongue. Your pupils widened when a shot of intense pleasure zapped through your body and hardened your nipples as Ari’s purred, pleased that you started sucking instinctively.

“Such a good Omega.” He praised. “Keep sucking. You better get them really wet, since it’s going to be the only prep that you get before I give you my cock.” 

With his whole frame being so massive, you could only imagine how proportionate his dick was going to be. It would be a struggle if you were dripping, but with just a brief preparation he was going to tear you. 

“Don’t worry, Snowdrop.” Ari chuckled darkly, slipping his fingers out of your mouth and pressing them against your clit. “I can’t wait to turn you into a soaked mess with my mouth and fingers, but for our first time I want those sweet whines and cries as you stretch painfully around every inch.” 

Circling your clit a few times, to heighten the first stirring of fire, Ari used his other hand to unbuckle his belt and lower the zipper in his pants. He thrust a single digit into your channel, groaning obscenely at the tight resistance. 

“You’re going to feel so fucking good.” He growled, pumping his finger in and out of your pussy a few times.

He withdrew much too soon. You were wet, but definitely not enough for that first slide of cock to be easy. Which Ari evidently loved. His grin was predatory when he pressed the head of his dick at your opening and you couldn’t suppress the sharp whimper at the first inch opening you wide. 

Bracing one hand on your hip, Ari reached his other arm to curl his ringed fingers around the front of your neck. 

Then he began sliding in. 

A firm, languid stroke; merciless against the physical resistance of your inner walls. 

You tensed as the pain increased. It was confusing, too, because you expected excruciating pain. Instead, it was a new kind of suffering that ignited overwhelming, heavy pleasure. Nothing similar to the light, bubbly pleasure you felt when touching yourself. No, this was powerful and scary, but made you crave more. 

Still, tears welled in your eyes as Ari broke into you and rooted himself deeply. Your mouth opened on a helpless cry.

His gaze was hungrily focused on your face, delighted in the shimmer of your tears. But then, as he slowly withdrew, his eyes flicked down to where his cock was easing out of your pussy. 

“Fucking perfect.” He groaned in pleasure at the sight of dark pink smears - your virginal blood mixed with strings of your wetness.

“Your sweet cunt got a first taste of the cock that owns her now.” He pushed back in. “No one else will ever fuck it, or fill it. Only your Alpha.”

“Say it!” The hand on your throat tightened and he snapped his hips into you in a harsh thrust, causing your body to jerk.

“O-” you gasped, tears trickling from the corners of your eyes as pain and pleasure flared low in your belly- “Only you!” 

More tears flew with the next rough thrusts, but they began drying as sensations blurred into something intense and unrecognizable. Ari’s cock was splitting you with each slide, your pussy unable to adjust fully to his size, yet it was becoming addictive. A part of you hoped it would never end, chanting prayers for more torment. More pleasure. More dominance. 

For his cum.

Your pupils blew wide as your pussy clenched around Ari’s cock when that thought unexpectedly echoed in your head. 

“That’s it, Snowdrop.” Ari grunted, fucking you ruthlessly. “Show me how greedy that cunt is for my cock and seed.”

Ari’s sharp bark of laugh resounded at your pitiful whimper when you spasmed around his dick again. Shaking your head side to side (as much as Ari’s grip on your throat allowed), you scratched your fingers against the table. You shouldn’t be feeling like this! There should only be fear and disgust, not a warm fluttering of something soft and vulnerable beneath the primal arousal. 

Was Levinson’s Alpha power truly so apex that it drew out a response from a stagnant, latent particle of your Omega designation? 

On a particular rough thrust, Ari pressed against a spot that had stars bursting under your eyelids. Your body tensed and arched then suddenly the coil was snapping and you were coming with a hoarse cry. 

He fucked you through it, his pace never easing. The hand on your hip moved to splay low on your abdomen, thumb wedging between your folds to torment your clit. The zap of stimulation was borderline painful as you were still quivering in the remnants of climax and it brought more tears. It was too much!

You shook your head. Your fingertips barely reached Ari’s abdomen, your touch more of a caress to him then your attempted fight against the onslaught. 

“Fuck!” Ari groaned, moving his hand away from your clit. But only to use his hands to reposition your legs - placing both of your ankles on his shoulders as he bore more weight onto you.

His fat cock seemed to plunge even deeper and an unexpectedly lewd moan spilled out of your mouth. 

“Your pretty tears turn me on as much as your virgin blood staining my cock.” 

Ari swiped a streak off your temple before wedging his hand between your tightly pressed thighs, again aiming for your swollen clit. His low chuckle at your hitched cry when he started rubbing it anew transformed into grunts of pleasure when your pussy clenched around him so hard he could barely move. 

You thought he was unrestrained before, but your body’s reaction provoked the truly primal, unhinged side of the Alpha.

He snarled, teeth bared, as his hips snapped into you so hard you felt the jolt of it reverberate up your ribs. The table in the chamber was exceptionally sturdy, but it moved as the animal ravaged you. 

The growl he let out when he reached his own peak seemed to sink into your very bones, binding your cells to him on some incomprehensible level. 

And when the hot flood of cum filled you, a deepest, darkest particle in your brain ignited with a thousand lights. 

It was a new sensation. Not because you were a virgin who was never fucked and filled. As much as that filthy side had you embarrassingly turned on, that feeling regarded something else. As if there was a second entity beneath your skin and it was finally stirred awake. 

For over a century it was believed that designations have regressed so much there was nothing left of the former reactions, or even former physical traits like knots, yet you sensed (and feared) that somehow this Alpha has broken through the iceberg of latency and found the ruins of ancient civilization; stirring some curses to life. 

Your breath was ragged, each gulp intermixed with tiny gasps and whimpers as you felt Ari’s cock throb inside of you, spilling more and more. You never thought that a man could cum so much. It felt endless. And the longer it lasted the more it had your core tingling with need for more. 

Slowly, Ari eased your legs down. They hung limply over the edge of the table, bracketing Ari’s hips that were still pressed against you. Your arms dropped down, too. One onto the table, the other across your belly, a mere inch above where Ari’s hand was still resting on your lower abdomen. 

His hand on your throat loosened its grip. He swept his fingers through the remnants of the tears drying on your face, then down across your body.

“I stake claim.” Ari’s voice resounded firm and unyielding, sending a chill down your spine. 

His blue eyes were on you. His face slightly flushed, a vein in his neck protruding and pulsing from the pleasant strain. But his words sounded like they were directed at somebody else, not just at you.

Long seconds passed before you sensed the change in the air. A gentle current, as if a draft got in. You tensed, head turning to the side as you felt another presence in the chamber. 

Ari pressed his hand over your sternum and pushed you down when you made a move to get up. He pressed on your belly with his other hand, as well. Which not only served to keep you in place, but also reminded you that his softening dick was still inside you and his cum was overfilling your pussy. 

Your heart rate increased as you watched three silhouettes emerge from who the fuck knows where. Big, intimidating, undoubtedly Alphas. 

Probably the other three horsemen. Owners of hell itself. 

They were wearing dark silver masks. Each depicting an animal. Each matching the crests carved into the chairs at the table. A wolf. A bull. A serpent.

They took their places at the table and looked down at you. Then, as if you weren’t interesting, they lifted their heads to look at Ari. 

“What bond do you choose?” Asked the wolf. 

His voice was as cold as it was smooth; like a chill one might feel when walking into the woods late in the evening - comforted by it, but sensing impending danger creeping in to strike.  

“A brand,” came Ari’s swift reply. “My crest.”

They all gave their nods. Then the bull moved closer to where Ari stood between your spread legs. A flicker of blue flame from a lighter made you whimper in fear, but none of them reacted. The bull held the lighter in his tattooed hand, his wrist encompassed in a thick leather bracelet. Ari lifted one of his hands, closed it into a fist, and brought it to the flame.

They were heating up his ring with the lion’s head. 

His crest. 

“No,” a weak sound left your lips when you understood the intention. 

There was no fight left in you. Besides, you had no chances against Ari alone, much less against four Alphas. 

“Shh.” Ari cooed, keeping the hand on your chest in place and rocking his hips into you gently. “You’re already mine, Snowdrop. This will merely be a short sting. Just like your virgin cunt breaking on my cock.” 

His blue eyes returned to yours, holding your gaze as he pressed the hot ring to your abdomen. You cried out in pain as it seared your skin, burning a permanent brand on the belly that was marked from the inside with his seed. 

“Claim witnessed.” 

It was repeated three times, by three different voices, but it barely reached your consciousness as your mind fumbled with processing pain and sinking in unfamiliar contentment. 

Ari kept touching you, stroking your sides and your thighs softly as he continued to coo. There was an additional vibration to his tone every few shushing words, comforting in a way that had your body truly relaxing despite the terror it was just put through. 

Once you settled down, only looking up at Ari with tear-brimmed eyes, he leaned down. And kissed you. 

It wasn’t as soothing as the last few touches and sounds, but brand nearly as hot as the ring burned into your skin. 

He straightened, staring down at you as conqueror at the empire he just crushed and obtained. His gaze traveled down your body to where his mark scorched over your mound, then lower, to where your bodies were joined. 

Slowly, he pulled out and watched as your glistening pussy gaped and pulsed. A heartbeat later his cum trickled out. Dark hunger was still alight in his eyes. Perhaps, it would never leave. Not when it came to you and owning your body. 

You trembled, covering your face with your hands as you felt the mess leak out of you. You saw the sticky combination of your juices, his spend and your blood coating Ari’s cock, and couldn’t comprehend why that unnerving part of you was thrilled about the sight. It made no sense and warred with the appalled and terrified part of your brain. 

“Don’t worry, Snowdrop.” Ari sounded amused as he watched you. “I don’t mind the mess. I’ll fuck you so often and thorough that my seed takes no matter how much of my cum leaks out of your poor, little cunt.” 

He gripped your wrists and forced your hands away from your face, then placed them on his shoulders. He felt warm and secure under your trembling fingers. 

You hated how he anchored you while being the one to break you. 

Ari lifted you off the table and set you onto your feet to the floor. His hold remained on your waist for long enough moment that you didn’t topple down on your weakened legs. 

Yet, as soon as he was sure you wouldn’t drop down, he guided you onto your knees himself. Making you kneel in the sticky mess that dropped from between your thighs onto the marble floor. 

A hand slid into your hair, tangling it in a tight grip. He tilted your head back. 

“Clean your Alpha’s cock, Omega.” He ordered. “Open your pretty mouth and taste us.” 

You tried to keep your lips pressed, refusing to do something so lewd. There was a flash of displeasure at your defiance and you expected Ari to force your jaw open, or to pinch your nose closed so you had to gulp for breath. 

Perhaps he would do that, if your mouth didn’t open on its own volition when he tapped the head of his cock against your lips. Musky saltiness smeared on your bottom lip, somehow provoking an instant reaction beyond your control. It was that new part of you, unearthed by the brutal Alpha. 

She made you open eagerly, tonguing the underside of Ari’s thick cock as he pushed into your mouth. 

“Good girl, Snowdrop.” He praised, rubbing against your tongue in shallow thrusts. “Get it clean of all the mess you made. Do you like how your Alpha tastes?”

He wasn’t really waiting for your reply, but he enjoyed the garbled sound you made as you tried to deny it and he pushed deep in your throat, cutting off your denial. 

He held you there, staring down at you struggling and choking. He delighted in the tears reappearing in your eyes. 

“Swallow around it.” He was merciless. “Oh, I know it’s hard and scary, but be a good girl and swallow down my cock. Close that little throat around it, so I can come down it like I did your pussy.” 

Tears poured down your cheeks as you finally managed to swallow and it caused your throat to constrict so tight you nearly blacked out. 

Ari grunted loudly in pleasure. 

With his free hand he tugged one of your hands that was resting against his thigh and guided it under his cock. He made you cup his heavy balls, forced your fingers to tighten and massage them.

Spurts of thick, salty warmth trickled down your throat. You panicked, fearing you’re going to choke to death as you hurriedly gulped it down. 

“Fuuuuck.” Ari was watching you with his own lips parted and glistening with saliva. “I’d love to fuck your sweet mouth for hours, teach you how to suck and tongue, but having you just simply choke and cry on my cock might be my new favorite version of a blowjob.”

When he finally let you go, after making sure the very last spurt went down your throat, you were coughing and wheezing. Your hands clutched Ari’s thighs as you slumped forward, resting your head against his leg and breathing heavily. 

Naked, filthy and broken, you rested at his feet. Leaning into him like he was your lifeline. 

Ari caressed the top of your head then stepped away for a moment. You fell forward, bracing yourself on your hands on the marble floor. A few seconds later something very soft, very warm, and surprisingly heavy, was draped over your naked form. 

In your peripheral you saw a glimpse of white with streaks of silver. 

Ari covered you with it, then effortlessly picked you up into his arms. Defenseless, exhausted and confused, you simply sank into his embrace. Resting your cheek against his chest, you glanced at the softness wrapped around you. A white fur.