Chapter Twelve
Azane
When I wake at starrise, as is my wont, I stretch, reveling in the smell of my pack. In the touch of their flesh on mine in the pack nest.
Zatura blessed indeed.
The quiet orange light kisses Tristan’s pale flank, his black harness as supple as his freckled flesh.
As I stare, my cunt wets. I want him again. I sniff deeply. He must be closing in on his heat. And I couldn’t be happier for it.
Inken grumbles, rolling towards me, ever attuned after so many years together.
As her deep gray eyes open, they fly to Tristan and Zilas first, ensuring their safety. My heart swells at my pack mate, who is another strong alpha to care for our pack.
Only then does she look to me.
“Good morning baby,” she gets out roughly.
I lean in, kissing her, and her hand laces into my loose hair. Our tongues dance and I make a noise deep in my throat.
She chuckles. “Does my darling aleron need to be bent over and railed like a good little slut?”
I laugh and growl at the same time. “Yes. But not right now. I wanted to—”
“I did something,” Ink interrupts.
I blink as I sit up. She follows, her gray-blue face worried.
“And what did you do, Inken?”
“I approached Zallan and Atiox about a market stall. A building, to be exact.” She swallows. “For Zilas and Tristan to teach us to run a coffee shop and bakery.”
I blink.
“I did something too.” I try not to smile. Now who’s spoiling them?
“I would never, except you made it clear the other day you truly wouldn’t mind...” I trail off.
She presses down a grin, trying to look like an ebondenn badass. “And what was that, Azane?”
“I spoke with pack Atiir to see if their cat might be having kittens soon.”
Ink snorts. “And?”
“Well, turns out their mama had some a turn ago. So...”
Ink looks at me expectantly. “So... what, exactly, Azane?”
I grin, seeing the teasing in her face. “So I told them we’d take a male kitten as soon as possible.”
She shakes her head, mock exasperation firmly in place.
“Come now,” I murmur, “Let’s get up and get those forms done.”
She blinks, a smile playing at her face. “What forms, Azane?”
“Whatever ones we need to get the quantity of coffee seeds for Tristan to open a coffeehouse. Not to mention, to keep us personally stocked in the delightful beverage.”
BY THE TIME THE BOYS come downstairs, we have the papers done and submitted. I’ve also fielded a couple messages on the comm, and Ink has made some scrambled rytryl eggs.
“Oh shit, I’m so sorry alphas,” Zilas blurts as he walks into the kitchen.
At that, Ink hops up from where she is eating next to me.
She strides across the room and grabs Zilas, spinning him to the door frame.
“Grab the wall, beta,” she growls, undoing her belt.
He obeys, and I gesture Tristan to sit next to me. He does so carefully and my cunt aches, wanting to check his trainer right this moment. Both he and Zilas are nude, as Ink had commanded last night.
I slide him a plate as we hear the first solid blow land.
“Only three, Zilas, so take a deep breath,” Ink rumbles. “You do not apologize for taking care of yourself or our omega. You both needed the rest, obviously.” Another resounding slap.
Zilas whimpers, sounding turned on; but my eyes are on Tristan’s locked cock. “Did you suck him off?” I whisper.
He nods, even as we hear the last blow fall.
“That’s it, beta,” Ink murmurs, and I turn to watch.
She presses her body to his nude one. Her arm snakes around in front of him, and I see her arm work up and down quickly.
“Go ahead, my dear. Make a mess.” The gentle fapping sound of her stroking his needy cock fills the room. “Be my good boy, Zilas.” She continues working his dick. “My best beta, I love you, you know that, right?”
“Do you like that, Tristan? Does it make you wet?” I whisper.
He nods, big green eyes on me.
“Good,” I purr. “Since you’ll be cleaning up his puddle.”
His face turns to me, his fork of eggs halfway to his mouth. I grin and sip my tea.
Zilas cries out, wordless, and I hear the splatter of his seed upon the floor.
Tristan clears his throat. “Where are the cleaning supplies, alpha?”
I chuckle. “Get over there and use your tongue.”
A tiny sound escapes him, but he stands smoothly.
As he crosses the room, Zilas and Ink sit down at the table. Zilas dashes a tear from the corner of his eye, though I already know him well enough to know it’s from being chastised. “Good boy,” I purr reassuringly to both of them.
I continue to Tristan, “I’d rather that seed was up your hungry little hole, perhaps getting you pregnant, but down your throat is next best for your omega instincts.”
What I can see of Tristan’s skin is a disturbing pink, but I’ve already learned he turns that shade quite easily, so I leave him to his task.
Zilas eats his eggs silently. I lean over and stroke his horn. He moans softly, looking to me.
“Are you trying to get me hard again, alpha?” He asks, a smile playing on his dark lips.
I laugh again. “Yes. Test your endurance.”
“I endure quite well,” he teases.
My cunt is soaked. “So I’ve seen, my dear.”
Tristan slips back into his seat without a word, still pink. We eat in the quiet, ambient sounds of the forest coming in the open kitchen windows.
When I’m done, I cup my tea in both hands and lean back in my chair, watching my pack with pride. Mine. My pack.
Tristan sips his tea and clears his throat. “I had some... questions.” His voice is nervous.
“Of course, omega, ask,” Ink demands in her usual manner.
I smile, turning back to Tristan, who is again bright pink. It’s pretty adorable; I hope he continues to shift color.
“Um, it’s about the... uh... the pregnancy stuff. How, exactly, do I get pregnant?” His eyes dart back and forth. “Moreover, how do I get... un-pregnant?”
Zilas chokes on a laugh, clearly trying to keep it in, lest he embarrass Tristan more.
“Omegas carry the kits, no matter their body,” I start. “Though female betas are able to carry as well. Which is how our population has survived, limping along, since our omegas were taken in the Red Paralysis.”
Tristan makes a sad sound, but sits quietly.
I clear my throat. Though it was generations ago, alphas still reel from the loss.
In the silence, Tristan offers, “It was about 200 revolutions ago?”
Ink nods and Tristan makes a contemplative sound. “Around the time most of your planet moved to cities instead of villages.”
“But, as to the how,” I say, returning to his question, “all omegas have a womb for nurturing life. We’ve learned male omegas from planets without alphas present need a special awakening procedure to get things moving—which you received at the Concord med center.
As your hormones begin to react to us, it’ll complete the process. ”
“And uh... how...” he trails off, face as red as his adorable hair.
I grin. “Zilas will leave his seed in your ass. Occasionally omegas can get pregnant outside of a heat, but it is very unlikely. So our best chance of impregnating you is during your heat.”
He nods, silent and looking at the table.
“Birth?” he near-whispers.
I look at him and suddenly realize the emotion that is flowing off him. “Why so afraid?” I blurt.
Silence.
I’m about to ask again when he clears his throat.
“It is... dangerous for our women. They can die in birth. It’s painful, and scary, and dehumanizing–at least sometimes, due to the doctors.”
I frown, putting my hand on his shoulder.
“Painful, yes, as the birth starts,” I respond. “But you’ll be whisked to a care center. There will be no pain at that point. And we’ll be with you, and we’ll all see our kit for the first time together.”
“How... how...” he again trails off.
“Human women give birth vaginally, often,” Inken supplies.
“And the ones who don’t may have hard recoveries from their brutal surgeries.
But all omegas here, Tristan, give birth via abdominal escape.
It’s normal, safe, surgical. You’ll be awake and in no pain.
Our medicine is much advanced, remember? ”
He nods, looking relieved. “Alright,” he quietly responds.
We sit in silence for a few minutes as we finish our tea.
I’m about to suggest a short hike—to teach Tristan some plants we forage—when there is a firm knock at the front door.
Ink jumps to her feet, using a simple hand gesture for ‘stay.’ I place my hand on Tristan’s bare leg, so he doesn’t move.
“Aside from me not wanting anyone to see my gorgeous omega nude,” I explain, “an alpha that is not yours might make you nervous, this close to your heat.”
“Oh,” Tristan whispers as his hand lands on top of mine. His fingers gently press in between mine and curl. I look down, head tilting. I raise an eyebrow, but he says nothing. His wonderful rich smell increases gently though, so I know he is pleased. If this pleases him, we shall do it often.
Ink returns, lips pursed. “Nap time, pack,” she declares.
WHEN I AWAKE FROM OUR nap, Tristan already has his eyes open. He’s whimpering, hand over his cage, hips rocking the tiniest bit.
“What are you doing?” I growl but cringe as I do. If he’s close to his heat, he likely is struggling.
“Alpha, I’m sorry,” he starts.
Ink sits up, wiping the sleep from her eyes. “Poor, horny little omega,” she purrs.
“You are not allowed to give yourself relief, ever,” I say sternly as Ink climbs out of the nest. “But most certainly not near your heat. An orgasm without our pheromones will result in a harder, more painful heat.”
Ink tugs him out of the nest gently and bends him over it. “Five lashes,” she says gently, “For you certainly knew you were to ask us. But after, we’ll let you release.”
She pulls back her arm, belt in hand. I am a bit worried about his delicate human flesh, but she is a good alpha. She would never permanently harm him.
He begins to sob, openly, loudly, at the third blow.
“That’s right, kitten, my sweet little emotional omega,” Ink purrs before belting him again.
Zilas curls up next to me, his hand landing on my thigh. “May I eat your perfect cunt, alpha?” he whispers.
I growl, hips shifting. I want his tongue in me, but I want to take care of Tristan as soon as his spanking is over.
“Soon,” I purr, leaning down to kiss him.
I’m lost in the dance of our tongues when I hear Inken declare Tristan’s punishment over. I pull back gently from Zilas.
Climbing out of the nest, I grab the next size trainer and lubricant. As Tristan’s crying slows, I sit on a wooden stool. “Come here. Crawl,” I demand.
Still sniffling, he does, his caged cock clinking.
“Poor, wet, punished little omega. I’m going to help you release. In fact, I’m going to take your cage off as I do so. Kneel up,” I order, pointing in front of me.
He does, again his skin a flaming red. I lean in and carefully remove the cage and ball strap, cautiously avoiding touching him lest he lose control.
“Over my lap,” I command.
“Yes, alpha,” he whispers before he climbs up. I spread my thighs so his little cock is between my legs, untouched.
I tug his trainer out, and he groans, shivering.
“You may release as often as you wish, while I have you here,” I say kindly.
Zilas sits on the floor in front of us as Ink stands behind Tristan. I lubricate the last trainer, slightly smaller than our cocks, perhaps the same size as Zilas’s but with the uninflated knot of an alpha at the base.
I press it into his hole, purring loudly. His hips rock even as he moans, sounding a bit pained. “I know. It’s so big, isn’t it, wedari? It’s alright, you can take it.” I thrust in and out, leaving the knot outside his body.
He whimpers and the wetness of his release squirts between my spread legs. “Yes,” I purr, “Poor horny omega, about to hit his first heat, hm?” He lifts his ass up for me, whimpering.
I keep fucking him, and quite quickly he wets my legs again. “Yes, you can take it, my little omega. You’ll take it all for me, won’t you?”
He nods frantically, his reddened ass thrusting back up onto the trainer.
“You want it harder, kitten?” Ink purrs from near me.
“Yes, alphas,” he cries out, his hips working frantically.
Ink snaps to Zilas and he crawls to her as I work Tristan harder.
“Little slutty hole, wet little omega, dying to be bred,” I growl.
Another release, as Tristan cries out loudly.
Zilas’s face is buried in Inken’s pussy and mine twitches. I dearly wish to use my mechacock and fuck all three of them.
My omega’s hormones are affecting me as well.
I pop the knot of the trainer into Tristan roughly, and he cries out, a weak orgasm hitting him.
“Good boy,” I purr. “Are you done?” I ask, giving the trainer small thrusts, keeping the knot inside his ass.
“Yes, yes, thank you, alpha,” he gasps weakly.
I pull the entire trainer out and watch his hole gradually close. I grab the lube. “That means two more.”
I fuck him hard and fast with the trainer, his hole stretching easily, his voice hoarse and hips rocking, but this time, away, oversensitive, his body nearly empty of seed. Which is what I want. It’ll help kick off his heat. An omega full of seed when their heat hits is a disaster.
Ink sits on the floor, spreading her thighs; Zilas repositions himself, on his belly, to continue eating her. Ink curls a hand around one of Zilas’s small, upright horns, but she is watching our omega’s cock, to be sure he’s empty, no seed emerging as I fuck another orgasm out of him.
His cries as he releases are high pitched and almost pained. Certainly over-stimulated.
“He still squirted from that tiny cock of his,” Ink purrs.
“I knew it would be two more. You little liar,” I tease, “Not wanting your alpha’s cocks.”
“No,” he protests weakly, “I didn’t mean that, alpha, I–”
Cutting him off, I reassure him, “Shh, no Tristan, I was only teasing you. It’s fine. But I do need another release from you.”
“The cutest little cocksleeve,” I whisper, using the trainer on him hard. “I can’t wait to fuck this greedy hole. What a good boy I have.”
As Tristan releases, Ink’s body tenses while Zilas makes satisfied sounds, hips fucking into a pillow under him.
Yes, that’s right, my pack, I think, pleased, finish for me.
When Ink’s breathing slows, she gets out, “He was clean.”
I pop the knot up him and grab the harness. I gently press him off my lap as I stand and drop my trousers.
“Lick me, omega,” I command, legs spread.