Page 10 of Warlord’s Prize

"Yes," Kazuul roars, his pace becoming even more punishing as my body convulses around him. "Take your pleasure from your alpha."

The orgasm seems to go on forever, waves of unwanted ecstasy crashing through me as he continues to thrust through my clenching muscles. Just as the intensity begins to ebb, the vibrating nodule shifts, finding a new angle that sends fresh sparks of sensation racing through me, building toward another peak.

"Beg for more," he commands, slowing his thrusts to allow me to speak. The vibrating nodule maintains constant stimulation against my oversensitive clit, making coherent thought nearly impossible.

I try to resist, to maintain this last shred of dignity, but my body has surrendered completely to biological imperative. "Please," I gasp before I can stop myself, heat-drunk and lost to physical sensation. "Please don't stop."

The words emerge without conscious permission, omega biology completely overriding rational thought as another orgasm builds impossibly quickly after the first. I hear approving growls from the watching oni, their excitement at my submission palpable in the air. One elder oni speaks in their guttural language, gesturing toward where I'm visibly claimed. Others nod in agreement, a ritual acknowledgment.

"Mine," Kazuul snarls, the word punctuated by a particularly deep thrust that makes me cry out. "Say it."

"Yours," I whimper, unable to deny him anything as the second orgasm builds. "I'm yours."

The admission tears a triumphant roar from his chest, the sound so primal it sends birds scattering from nearby trees. His rhythm becomes erratic, more forceful, each thrust driving the breath from my lungs. The vibrations against my clit intensify to an almost painful degree.

The second orgasm hits even harder than the first, tearing a sob from my throat as pleasure crashes through me in overwhelming waves. My vision darkens at the edges, my body convulsing around his massive length. Through the haze of unwanted ecstasy, I feel his cock swell even further, stretching me beyond what I thought possible.

Just when I think I can't endure more, I feel a new pressure at my entrance. His knot begins to swell, preparing to lock us together. I try to pull away in panic, but his grip holds me immobile.

"Take it all," he growls, bearing down with his full weight now, his massive chest against my back, his breath hot against my neck. "Take my knot, little omega."

There's a moment of searing pain as the knot forces past my entrance, growing to the size of my fist, then larger. A scream tears from my throat, the sound raw and broken. The pain is blinding, absolute—then suddenly transforms as the knot locks into place, pressing against spots inside me that trigger a third consecutive orgasm so intense it momentarily whites out my vision.

I'm dimly aware of my own voice crying out, the sound primal and desperate. Through the haze of pleasure and pain, I feel Kazuul's release—burning hot and plentiful, flooding my womb with seed that seems endless. Each pulse of his cock sends another jet of burning seed deep inside me, the quantity so great it visibly distends my abdomen further, creating a rounded curve beneath where his cock already bulges.

"Look at her take my seed," Kazuul announces to the witnesses, his voice rough with satisfaction. His hand spreads possessively across my distended abdomen, showing everyone how thoroughly he's filled me.

The crowd responds with appreciative growls and gestures. Some approach the platform for a closer view, their golden eyes examining where we're joined, where the evidence of my claiming is most visible. Through tear-blurred vision, I see oni officials nodding approval around us, ritual witnesses acknowledging successful claiming with satisfied expressions. Some make gestures I don't understand—blessings or protection rites, perhaps. One approaches with a ceremonial bowl, collecting a mixture of our fluids that drips from where we're joined before retreating with the offering.

We remain locked together by biology, unable to separate until his knot subsides. The vibrating nodule continues pulsing against my overstimulated clit, forcing continued tremors of pleasure that make me whimper and shake. He keeps me presented to the crowd throughout, displaying me as thoroughly claimed, thoroughly conquered.

Part of me—the omega part I've suppressed for years—preens under the attention, takes pride in being so thoroughly claimed by such a powerful alpha. This realization fills me with fresh horror, that even in my humiliation, some primal part of me responds with satisfaction.

Kazuul's massive body covers mine completely now, his weight supported on his elbows to avoid crushing me. The heat of him is overwhelming, like being trapped beneath a living furnace. His chest rumbles against my back as he makes a sound almost like purring, satisfaction evident in every line of his massive frame.

"Mine now," he growls, voice pitched for my ears alone as he leans his massive body over mine, covering me completely. His teeth graze the junction of my neck and shoulder, not breaking skin yet but promising the permanent mark to come. "Body, mind, and service—all mine."

I have no response, no resistance left. The claiming is complete, witnessed and approved. Whatever I was before—leader, strategist, resistance fighter—has been consumed by this new reality. I've been claimed by the warlord of the Crimson Fortress, my body conquered as thoroughly as our lands were a decade ago.

As the sun disappears completely beyond the horizon, torchlight casts flickering shadows across the courtyard. Many witnesses begin to disperse, their purpose fulfilled, their guttural murmurs of satisfaction and approval a low thunder in the cooling air. But Kazuul and I remain joined, locked together in the most primal connection possible, and he shows no inclination to allow this public display to conclude.

His massive hands, which had momentarily gentled, now shift with renewed purpose. One slides from my hip to cup my distended abdomen, fingers splaying possessively across the curve his seed has created beneath my skin.

"Behold," he rumbles, his voice deep and carrying enough for the lingering officials and high-ranking warriors to hear clearly. He angles my hips slightly, a subtle but deliberate shift that offers them an even clearer view of our joined state, of his knot buried deep within me, of my naked, trembling flesh. "The Bloodcrest Warlord claims his prize. See how she takes me, how she holds my seed. This is the future of our strength."

Every small movement he makes sends aftershocks of unwanted pleasure through me, the vibrating nodule at the base of his cock continuing its relentless, merciless stimulation against my over-sensitized clit even as the knot keeps us sealed together. His seed remains trapped inside me, hot and heavy, a constant, undeniable presence fulfilling the biological purpose of the knotting—ensuring breeding success by keeping his seed contained exactly where it needs to be to take root. But there is more than biology at play here; there is ownership, a brutal assertion of dominance.

He leans down, his breath hot against my ear, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there. "They see you, little omega," he growls, a dark satisfaction lacing his tone. "They see you broken, filled, and mine. Every warrior here knows the scent of a well-claimed omega. Yours will perfume this fortress for days."

His other hand traces the line of my spine, down to the swell of my buttocks, his touch both a caress and a brand. He then deliberately, slowly, grinds his hips, not with the force of his earlier thrusts, but with a knowing pressure that shifts the knot within me, sending fresh waves of confused, agonizingly pleasurable sensation through my exhausted body. I whimper, unable to stop the sound, my body arching minutely against his.

The remaining Oni watch with a mixture of predatory interest and ritualistic solemnity. Their golden eyes are fixed on my exposed form, on the undeniable evidence of Kazuul’s conquest. I am a symbol now, naked and sprawled on the claiming platform, still impaled by their Warlord, my body slick with sweat and fluids, his cum a heavy, warm weight within me. I can feel their gazes like brands on my skin, cataloging every tremor, every helpless sound I make as Kazuul continues his subtle torments that are also, horrifyingly, pleasures. A wave of fresh humiliation washes over me, so potent it’s almost a physical blow. This isn't just claiming; this is a public declaration of my complete subjugation, my transformation into a breeding vessel, a trophy.

He shifts again, his massive body a furnace against my back, and the vibrating nodule finds a new, exquisitely sensitive spot. A choked sob escapes me as another wave of sensation, too intense to be pure pleasure, too overwhelming to be pure pain, courses through me. My inner muscles clench around his knot in a series of involuntary spasms, a final, humiliating betrayal by my own flesh.

"She still takes her pleasure," Kazuul announces to the onlookers, his voice laced with dark amusement and pride. "A fertile omega, eager for her Alpha." The lie is as blatant as my body's truth.

A horrifying thought, insidious and alien, flickers through the haze of my exhaustion and shame: a tiny, shameful spark of omega pride at being so thoroughly, publicly possessed by such an undeniably powerful Alpha. The thought is so vile, so contrary to everything I am, that I almost choke on it, fresh tears of self-loathing joining the others on my cheeks.

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