Page 4 of Omega Claimed

I did dirty, vile, forbidden things, and it felt wonderful.

I found true joy in those moments of depravity.

Once, he opened his pants in the dining room, and I sucked his cock right there, with my useless father snoring in the corner. To make the humiliation complete, Gerald bent me over thedining table, took a bottle my father had been drinking from, and fucked my ass with it. And I came from it.

I’d never been in love with Gerald. I even hated him a little for the power he had over my body. But God, I adored his dick more than my own life. On the nights I was alone, I hurt inside.

The only gift Gerald had ever given me was a carved wooden cock. I sat on it and stroked myself to completion so I wouldn’t go mad from the constant emptiness.

It went on for almost a year, then he stopped coming. I never got to know why. Maybe he found diversion somewhere else with a boy even younger than me? At first, I was angry. I ached, day after day, the wooden cock barely soothing me enough so I could sleep for a few hours. I lost weight, and my father thought I’d developed some mysterious disease. The doctor he’d called found nothing. He said I was suffering from melancholy and that my father should find me a suitable husband.

I didn’t want a husband. Alphas were good for nothing except fucking, and I wasempty. Torturously empty.

My father kept bringing potential suitors to our house.

One night, he got drunk earlier than usual, leaving me alone with the two alphas he’d invited. It didn’t take long to seduce them. I pretended to be a guileless virgin, worried about my virtue, but my wet, hungry hole must have reeked with horniness.

“You don’t smell like a virgin,” one of them said. He toppled me and held me down on the dining room floor while the other one dragged my pants off and mounted me. To rile them up, I struggled and did my best to hide my pleasure. I clenched and squeezed his dick with my inner muscles and kicked and cried. They liked that I fought them and began talking about ruining me in a way that made me burn with glorious passion.

They almost started believing I’d been innocent, but I hadn’t been fucked in such a long time, my insides oozed slick. All toosoon, I came all over myself. I gave up on pretending I didn’t take pleasure in them using me. After they both fucked me, I got to my knees and sucked them to hardness again. The second time they took turns inside me, the orgasms almost made me lose consciousness.

That night, I slept deeply, sore and full of cum, and woke into a new day with joy in my heart.

I needed fucking to live.

Finding the right alphas was difficult. Not every man felt comfortable taking advantage of a presumably innocent young omega in his father’s house. I began sneaking out at night. The town was full of pubs, and I always found someone who eagerly pushed me up against a wall in a dark street. A quick dicking soothed the constant itch, but I wanted more. I kept my eyes and legs open, and soon, I found the perfect solution.

The brothel lay in a nice part of town, close to the opulent streets where the councilmen and wealthy tradesmen lived. It was expensive and satisfied a noble clientele. I was the youngest omega here, both in age and appearance. The rumors about the beauty and insatiable lust of a mysterious new boy spread fast, and within weeks, I’d become the most sought-after whore in town.

The owner doted on me. He kept a long list of names in his drawer, only noble alphas waiting for a time with me, and carefully chose who’d be allowed to my chamber and when. Some of it was surely politics, but I didn’t care about that. I only wanted cock.

Working four nights a week, I would arrive after ten and stay until two, usually taking two to four alphas a night. I wore a lacemask over my face, revealing only my lips, and I had a guard standing by the door, ready to burst in if I called.

Some patrons wanted nothing but a simple fuck on a bed, and some liked it when I got on my knees and sucked them. But a few had strange, disturbing desires—and I liked those the most. One spanked me, called me degrading names, and pushed his fingers into my hole alongside his cock, stretching me out. Another made me crawl on the floor and beg for a fucking. One alpha put strange items inside me and ordered me to push them out as he squeezed my throat and spat on me. Another made me kiss his feet and stroked himself above until he came onto my face. A patron fucked me with a wine bottle and with his entire fist, and then he would order me to hold my hole open so he could gaze into my body…

I fed on their depravity as if it were the magical elixir of life.

Those days when my patrons proved to be unsatisfying, my guard took his turn last. He had a long, thick dick and fucked me hard until I was sore and sleepy. Then he accompanied me to my house. He was the only one who knew who I was and where I lived, and I paid him well enough so it would stay that way.

After several months, I had two bags of silver under my bed, while my father didn’t have the faintest idea about what I’d been doing.

I loved my nightly adventures. In the evenings, just one glance at the door to the brothel was enough to get me wet and ready. So many alphas horny for me. So many cocks, so much cum. Some patrons were weak lovers, but others made up for it. The money helped, too. I dreamt of freedom, and like this, I might be able to provide for myself.

My father was still trying to marry me off, but his demands were high and his manners abysmal. He thought we had time before my first heat and refused several offers he deemed too cheap.

Only a few more weeks, and I’d have earned enough money to leave.

All too soon, my fragile freedom was taken away from me.

I washed my hole after my first patron for the night had left. I was pleasantly stretched after taking that man’s thick dick. He’d only made me come once, but the peak had been long and satisfying. I was looking forward to my next ride.

Wrapped in silk, my mask in place, I opened the door and stood face to face with my father. His eyes were glassy, and he smelled of wine. He began undoing his belt.

“They say you’re the best in here,” he slurred. “Come and suck my dick, slut.”

I stood frozen as my grand plan crumbled, turning into shambles before my eyes.

He kicked the door shut, tried to hang his coat onto a hook, and missed. The fabric pooled on the floor.

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