5. Changeable
CHANGEABLE
Sir Oswald Sandoval was lucky.
Feared by some of the most powerful men in the country, he was involved in intrigue and high-stakes games at a level where nobody survived for long.
He never wanted a partner or a family and didn’t indulge in frivolous thoughts about love or happiness.
Yet without even trying, he came home to love; exquisite love, the sweetest pleasure, and boundless joy.
Every Friday evening, he found love on his bed. Some days, it came in the form of an innocent omega, different every time yet always breathtakingly beautiful and always in love with him.
The young beauty would have tears in his eyes when Oswald kissed him for the first time. Oswald would claim the omega’s innocence—sometimes seducing him with tenderness, sometimes taking him with force—and he’d spend the weekend turning the tiniest virginal pucker into a fucked-out, filthy hole.
On occasion, love would climb into his window like a thief, hungry and dangerous, smelling of sin.
It would devour him. Eyes glowing red, the demon would ride his cock, nurse him with poisonous nectar, and demand his knot.
The red beast had claws, wings like a bat, and a long tail—or maybe that had been a hallucination.
For hours, Oswald would be lost between agony and ecstasy, wondering if he’d ever emerge alive. What a way to die.
And some days, an obedient serf waited for him, kneeling by the bed, ready to fulfill Oswald’s every wish. He’d kiss Oswald’s feet, suck his cock, and follow Oswald like a shadow, naked and on all fours, hole wet and open for whenever Oswald wanted to fuck it or shove his fist into it.
Every Friday night, Valentino came to fulfill Oswald’s basest fantasies. By Sunday, he vanished again. Oswald was annoyed by Valentino’s sudden departures, but the knowledge that his little demon would be back soothed him.
Yes, he was a lucky man indeed.
Walking down the empty hallway, Oswald tilted his head from side to side, stretching his neck as he loosened his tie. He’d had a hellish week.
As he neared his bedroom, he felt the tension melt away, replaced by giddy anticipation. Who would be waiting for him tonight? He knew who, but how would he look this time?
He pushed the door open, and his chest filled with warmth at the sight before him.
He recognized the blond omega he’d first met months ago.
Innocent and sweet, with huge, guileless eyes, the boy wore white lingerie, including a lace chemise and high stockings.
The tiny panties were see-through, revealing his soft little cock and hairless balls.
He had white flowers in his hair and a lace choker around his slender neck.
He looked like a young groom on his wedding night. So very beautiful.
Oswald wondered why, after all the games they’d played over the past weeks, the creature had chosen this form. It felt more personal.
The scent filling the air made Oswald half hard already. Fresh slick from a young hole, clean sweat, expensive shampoo, an omega’s arousal with a hint of fear. The smell of a horny virgin.
Valentino rested sideways on the bed, his expression shy and fearful. “Good evening, Sir Oswald,” he said timidly.
“Good evening.”
“I have a gift for you, Sir Oswald.”
“Oh?”
A small velvet box tied with a pink ribbon sat on the bedding in front of Valentino.
“Do you want me to open it now?” Oswald asked.
Valentino nodded and bit his lip, his gaze on the floor. He looked too bashful. What was the nefarious creature up to now?
Oswald took off his jacket and tie and opened the top buttons of his shirt. Feeling more comfortable, he reached for the box and untied the ribbon. He removed the lid and frowned at the contents. It looked like a USB stick.
“What is this?”
“Something I made just for you, Sir Oswald.”
For a moment, Oswald wondered if it was wise to plug the thing into his laptop, but he dismissed the thought. He’d known for a while that Valentino wasn’t his enemy. The creature’s motivations had nothing to do with Oswald’s businesses and politics.
Or so Oswald thought.
He sat in his armchair, opened his laptop, and inserted the stick. It contained three large video files.
Meanwhile, Valentino climbed off the bed and crawled on all fours toward him. He laid his chin on Oswald’s thigh and gazed at him beseechingly. One little flower fell from his hair and clung to the lace of his chemise, just by his left nipple.
“I hope you’ll like it, Sir Oswald. I only thought of you when I prepared your present.”
Oswald clicked on the first file and frowned.
It appeared to be high-quality security footage from an opulent hotel suite, with a large living room, an office corner with a view of a city skyline, and double doors leading to what must have been the bedroom. A corner of a white bed was visible in the opening.
One bald, middle-aged alpha sat on the sofa, scrolling on a tablet. He was a big man, with a broad chest and long arms. Another man was working on a laptop in the office corner, similarly built but with a bigger belly. Both alphas were silent.
At first, Oswald didn’t recognize them. But then a sound made one of the men raise his head.
Harlan Stokes. Meaning the other person must be Maynard Stokes.
“What have you done?” Oswald breathed.
Valentino didn’t respond and didn’t move. Oswald didn’t look at him. He could only stare at the video, a vague sense of dread constricting his chest.
It was surreal. Two of his greatest enemies, men who wanted him dead, who had been trying to ruin him for years…
On the screen, a young bellhop entered the hotel room, pushing a trolley.
He served the Stokes brothers coffee and bourbon.
At first, the alphas observed him with detached calm, but slowly, their expressions hardened.
Abruptly, Maynard stood and walked over, positioning himself between the bellhop and the trolley.
When the bellhop turned, he bumped into Maynard’s chest. He was slim, a head shorter than the hulking alpha. Maynard’s lips moved, and Oswald increased the volume on the video.
“You smell like a horny whore.”
“Sir, please…”
“Hey, Harlan, can you smell that?”
“Enjoy your coffee, sir,” the bellhop said in a shaky voice.
He tried to walk around Maynard, but the alpha grabbed his arm and pulled him back.
“What the fuck is that stink?” Harlan asked, putting his tablet aside. He rubbed his crotch, grimacing.
Oswald didn’t need to recognize the bellhop’s features to know who it was. The omega seemed to be barely twenty, with dark hair, bright green eyes, and smooth, tanned skin. He looked slender and frail.
“Are you in heat, whore? Huh? How come you’re working when you’re in heat?”
Maynard shoved the omega onto the sofa next to his brother. Harlan grabbed the boy’s wrists.
Oswald didn’t want to see what came next. He clicked forward into the middle of the clip.
The video now showed the omega on his knees on the sofa, ass up toward the camera.
Harlan’s open pants stuck around his thighs, and his shirt hid most of his bare butt.
He was fucking the omega viciously. His brother was naked aside from his socks, sitting on the sofa by the omega’s side.
With one hand, he was holding the omega’s neck, pushing the boy’s face into the cushions, and with the other, he was stroking his erection. The omega’s cries echoed in the room.
Heart pounding, Oswald clicked on another video.
It was from a different camera in the bedroom. The omega was spread out on the bed, arms tied to the headboard. Maynard was kneeling between his legs, pumping his hips in an unmistakable way. Harlan was humping the bed, his face on the omega’s chest, sucking his nipples.
The omega was visibly orgasming, mouth open, eyes squeezed shut, neck corded. His underbelly looked enlarged, like he’d been bred many times.
Last video. Bedroom again, a different angle.
Maynard lay on the bed on his back, holding the omega to his chest. He bucked into the boy’s stretched hole. His brother shuffled closer on his knees. He lined up and pushed in. The omega wailed.
They moved in sync, sweat running down their bodies in rivulets.
Rocked between the two men, the omega made inhuman sounds that could have been easily mistaken for pain, but Oswald knew his little incubus well.
Double-dicked by the Stokes brothers, Valentino was coming in waves. For a split second, he glanced straight into the camera, and a hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his open mouth. Then his eyes rolled back into his head, and he arched with yet another orgasm.
Oswald moved to the last few minutes of the video.
It showed Maynard and Harlan Stokes naked on a soiled bed, facing each other.
The omega was nowhere to be seen. The brothers pulled on each other’s dicks, growling and groaning, teeth gritted, faces scrunched into painful grimaces.
Harlan’s cock spurted, and his cum splattered on his brother’s skin.
Slowly, Oswald closed the laptop.
He glanced at the motionless omega staring up at him with innocent eyes.
Anger bubbled in his veins, together with immense lust and, yes, stunned gratitude.
“Why did you do that?” he ground out.
“You’ve been worried. I took your worry away.”
Oswald shook his head. The creature was unbelievable.
“All this time, while you pretended to care only about my dick in your mouth, you’ve been listening, haven’t you?”
“Not intentionally. I do mostly only care about your dick in my mouth. In my hole. Up my womb.” The boy smiled beatifically. “But I’ve heard you on the phone, in your meetings, and I’ve…researched some things when we’ve been apart. I wanted to help.”
“So you set up a trap for two of my greatest enemies. People who could easily get you killed.”
Valentino took Oswald’s hand in both of his and gently pressed his perfect lips to every fingertip, one by one. Lastly, he kissed the center of Oswald’s palm.