Page 14 of Warlord’s Prize

The officials file out without lingering or commenting on my claimed state—this is simply how meetings end in the Crimson Fortress. As the heavy door swings shut, leaving us alone in the council chamber, I feel Kazuul's massive hands tighten on my hips.

"Now I don't have to be gentle," he growls, lifting me off his cock with alarming suddenness. Before I can react, he stands, one hand gripping the back of my neck.

"What are you—" My question cuts off as he forces me forward, bending me over the massive stone table. The polished surface is cool against my heated skin, my cheek pressed against reports and territorial maps.

"Now I can fuck you properly," he rumbles, kicking my legs apart with his foot. "The way an oni claims his omega."

His massive cock presses against my entrance again, the head hot and insistent. Despite everything that's happened—despite multiple orgasms during the meeting—I still try to pull away. My hands scrabble for purchase on the smooth stone, seeking escape from what's coming.

"Please," I gasp, though I'm not sure if I'm begging him to stop or continue. My treacherous body still responds to his presence, slick gathering between my thighs despite my mental resistance.

Kazuul's answer is to slam into me with a force that drives the breath from my lungs. The penetration is deeper in this position, his cock reaching places inside me that make stars explode behind my eyelids. I cry out, the sound echoing in the now-empty chamber.

"That's it," he snarls, pulling back only to thrust forward again with bone-jarring intensity. "Let me hear you now that we're alone."

He sets a punishing rhythm, each thrust powerful enough to slide me forward on the table until his hands grip my hips, holding me in place for his claiming. The slap of his body against mine fills the chamber, punctuated by my gasps and his deep, rumbling growls.

"This is what you were made for," he tells me, one massive hand sliding up my spine to tangle in my hair. He pulls my head back, forcing my back to arch. "Taking my cock. Bearing my seed. Being claimed whenever and however I desire."

The new angle allows him to reach even deeper, the head of his cock pressing against my cervix with each powerful thrust. The vibrating nodule still presses against my clit, its intensity increasing as his excitement grows. Despite my exhaustion, despite the soreness from the meeting, my body responds with humiliating eagerness.

"No more," I plead as another orgasm begins building impossibly. "I can't?—"

"You will," he commands, his pace becoming even more relentless. The table beneath us creaks with the force of his thrusts, maps and documents scattering to the floor. "Your body knows who owns it."

His cock somehow swells even larger, stretching me beyond what I thought possible after days of claiming. The ridges along his shaft drag against my sensitive inner walls with each withdrawal, only to push back in with overwhelming fullness. My legs tremble, my entire body at his mercy as he takes what belongs to him.

The orgasm hits without warning, tearing a scream from my throat that reverberates off the stone walls. My inner muscles clamp down around his invading length, trying to hold him deep inside as pleasure crashes through me in waves that leave me breathless and weak.

Kazuul roars in response, his thrusts becoming erratic as his own climax approaches. I feel the base of his cock beginning to swell, the knot forming that will lock us together. With one final, powerful thrust, he buries himself to the hilt, the knot pushing past my entrance with a bright burst of pain-edged pleasure.

His release floods my womb in hot pulses, each one accompanied by a growl that vibrates through his massive chest. The quantity is as overwhelming as always, my abdomen visibly distending as he fills me with his seed. The knot keeps everything sealed inside, exactly as biology intended.

I collapse against the table, utterly spent, tears streaming silently down my face. Not from pain—though there is some—but from the overwhelming reality of my new existence. From the knowledge that my body has betrayed me so completely, finding pleasure in its own conquest.

Kazuul remains inside me, locked by biology in the most primal connection possible. But rather than waiting quietly for the knot to subside, he reaches for papers that were pushed aside during our coupling.

"What are you doing?" I manage to ask, voice hoarse from screaming.

"Work continues," he says matter-of-factly, spreading a fresh parchment on my back. I feel the scratch of a quill against the surface, the slight pressure as he uses my body as a writing desk. "These reports must be completed before tomorrow's council session."

The casual dismissal of what just happened—the way he simply continues his administrative duties while still knotted inside me—creates a new level of humiliation I hadn't thought possible. I'm not even worth his full attention after serving my purpose. Just a convenient surface, an object to be used in whatever way suits him at the moment.

"Haven Valley's supply allocation needs adjustment," he comments, the quill scratching steadily across the parchment on my back. "Your settlement has more children than the initial reports indicated."

The mention of my community pierces through my degradation. Even now, even like this, he's ensuring my people are cared for according to our agreement. The complexity of the situation—of my captor fulfilling his promises while using me in the most demeaning ways—is almost too much to process.

The knot remains swollen inside me, keeping us joined as he continues writing. Each small movement shifts it slightly, sending aftershocks of sensation through my oversensitive body. Occasionally he pauses to stroke a possessive hand down my spine or grip my hip, reminding me that I'm not forgotten—merely subjugated.

"Tell me about the medicinal needs of your people," he demands, still writing. "Be specific about quantities."

I answer automatically, the strategic leader in me responding even as the rest of me lies conquered on the council table. The dichotomy is jarring—my mind still working for my community's benefit while my body serves as both vessel for his seed and desk for his administration.

For nearly an hour we remain like this—his knot slowly subsiding as he completes report after report on my back. By the time he's finally able to withdraw, leaving me empty and leaking onto the stone table, I've helped formulate three supply schedules and a patrol rotation that will better protect Haven Valley's outlying fields.

"You serve multiple purposes well," Kazuul observes, gathering his completed reports as seed and slick run down my thighs. "Both your body and your mind belong to me now."

I want to deny it, to rail against this possessive declaration. But as I slowly push myself up from the table, legs trembling and body aching, I know there's truth in his words. I've been claimed completely—physically, yes, but also mentally as I've begun to adapt to this new reality, to find ways to function within it rather than simply fight against it.

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