Chapter 1

1

The dreams began way earlier than most omegas have their first heat. I remember the first time I woke up drenched with sweat, a puddle of slick soaking the covers under my ass. I couldn't recall the dream, but my insides felt empty, and my groin throbbed. I quickly learned that stroking my hard shaft helped, but the emptiness remained. Whimpering, I put my fingers into my hole and wriggled them until heavenly pleasure burst through my belly, and my shaft spat out drops of sweet cream. I licked it off my fingers and fell back asleep.

My relief was short-lived.

Night after night, I would lie awake with torturous cravings eating me from the inside. My fingers were too thin and short to satisfy. Deep inside, I remained hollow. I didn't know what was wrong with me. I had no one to tell.

One Sunday, I came to the breakfast room to find the preacher there by my father's side. I bowed my head to greet our guest and sat down in polite silence, as I was raised to do. My father's guests rarely spoke to me, but this morning, the preacher sniffed the air and frowned at me.

"Syl. You smell of sin. Why is that?"

Red in the face, I looked down. I didn't know what he meant. I was afraid I was sick, but I couldn't tell a preacher that my ass was leaking and aching every night and that I had to put my fingers inside myself to find relief.

"You need to find him a husband," the preacher told my father.

My father waved his hand dismissively. "He's young. We have time."

The preacher glared at me. "He's ripe," he said with disgust.

I met my father's cold, measured gaze. He looked tired as always, his eyes glassy and cheeks gray.

"I suppose a few invitations could sort it out. He's pretty."

The preacher nodded and returned to his ham.

Maybe it would have worked. A few invitations, a few smiles, and I'd have been married off.

But my father was a drunk.

The dinner parties he organized ended with him snoring in his armchair, an empty bottle or two lying under the table, and his guests leaving with amused smirks. Of course, they gladly came again. Despite his undignified habit, my father was an influential man, and many deemed it wise to stay within his good grace.

One evening, a guest stayed longer than the rest. His name was Gerald, and he was a noble alpha in his forties, the most powerful among the town's councilmen, maybe even richer than my father. He had black eyes and a dark beard with streaks of silver in it, and his shoulders were wide and square in his stiff coat. When I came closer to refill his glass and caught his scent, it stirred something in my belly. I'd always been afraid of him, that night more than ever.

My father fell asleep with his mouth open, snoring loudly, so I stood to say goodnight to our last remaining visitor. It wasn't appropriate for a young unmarried omega to be alone with an alpha after dark, and I thought Gerald would leave. Our servants had already carried away trays with empty glasses, and the fire in the fireplace was dying. Gerald nodded in response to me bidding him goodnight, but instead of going to the door, he followed me upstairs.

I hurried to my bedroom, scared to imagine why he could be coming after me. When I was closing the door, he put his foot into the gap. I jolted away, my heart pounding.

He walked into my bedroom and locked the door behind him. Then he removed his coat and belt. He smelled faintly of sweat, and the scent felt strange in my room, where no alpha had ever been before.

Gerald charged at me where I stood frozen and gripped me by my nape.

I should have pushed him away when he kissed me. But he was gentle, coaxing me and teaching me. His tongue slid against mine, and I liked the taste. I closed my eyes. The familiar ache grew inside me, stronger than ever before. The hollow feeling tugged at my insides and made my hole wet. Trembling, I let Gerald undress me until I was naked, and he only had his underpants on.

Until that night, I hadn't known what fucking was. Not really. I'd known alphas did things to omegas behind closed doors, but nobody ever explained them to me. I had very little idea what Gerald wanted from me.

Today, I'm convinced he would have overpowered me if I'd tried to stop him. Maybe a part of me enjoyed the danger—I don't remember.

His fingers stole into my crease, rubbing over my hole, and I gasped. His touch there felt like lightning.

"You should be dry like sawdust. But you're not, are you?"

He pushed a finger inside me. His touch there felt wonderful, but I was shaking violently, not knowing what he'd do next.

"Oh yes. Like I thought. You're horny like a cheap whore."

Abruptly, he flipped me and bent me over the bed. Fear made my heart gallop, but the horrid ache grew right along with it.

"I love virgins like you," he said, his voice low. He kicked my legs apart. "Ripe but unspoiled. Irresistible."

He pushed something big into me.

Blunt, thick, hard, burrowing into my flesh. It took me a while to realize it was his dick. Startled by the sudden pain, I tried to shove him off me, but he gripped my wrists, pinning them to the bed.

"You want it. I know you do."

God, it felt immense.

He stayed still, letting me get used to the burning fullness. I panted and quivered, afraid to move an inch. He gulped my scent from my nape, his chest rumbling with low groans.

"Tight as a fist. Hurts, huh? That's what you get for taunting me."

He pushed in harder, and I cried out. He'd tear me apart.

Humming, he gave me an almost sweet kiss on my nape.

"I'll make the pain go away, my little virgin."

He pulled out a little and slid back in.

A shock of pleasure stole my breath. The pain dissolved, only a faint memory, and moans I couldn't control poured out of my throat. He thrust into me with long, firm strokes of his dick, and I lost myself in the glorious feeling. My hole tingled, my insides fluttered, and when he thrust harder, pleasure burst out of my untouched cock.

"Good boy. Pretty hole, clenching on my dick. I told you it won't hurt anymore. You'll learn to love this. You'll crave it."

I stained the bed sheet with my release. After the overwhelming peak, my body grew limp. My hole loosened, and the big hardness glided in and out easily while slick poured out of me.

"Not a virgin anymore, are you? You're coming on my dick like a slut in heat."

Gerald pushed deeper, and the tip of his shaft pressed into some tender spot inside me that made me shudder with delight. This is what I'd been dreaming about. What I'd needed all along. An alpha's big hard dick.

He growled, his cock jerking.

Then it was over.

Pulling out, he spread my ass cheeks, and I sensed his gaze on me.

"Push with your ass," he ordered.

Confused, I whimpered. I didn't know what he meant.

"Push like you're about to shit, omega."

My cheeks heated, but I did as I was told.

Creamy liquid leaked out of me, and after the frenzy, my face burned with shame. He'd taken me, and instead of trying to fight him off, I'd moaned and squirmed. A man more than twice my age forced himself on me, and I liked it.

"That's it. A ruined, filthy hole. Why didn't you beg me to stop, hm?"

A loud slap echoed through the room, and I yelped. Strangely, I felt the hit only after I heard it. Warmth bloomed on my ass cheek.

"Didn't you care about your innocence?"

Another slap. I bit the covers.

"You wanted it, didn't you? You were making eyes at me for the whole evening."

Another slap.

"You're a whore, seducing your father's noble guest."

Oh Lord, why did that feel so good? The burning spanks made me push my ass out for more.

"Answer. Did you like your first fuck? Your very first alpha dick, ruining your little, pink hole."

I nodded eagerly. "Yes, sir." It didn't even occur to me to lie.

A few more spanks landed on my ass.

"Filthy boy. You even like the spanking."

On the next hit, I moaned. I did like it. So much. What was wrong with me?

"You're my hole now, boy. I defiled you, and this young body is now mine to use whenever I want. I'll come back, and you'll always leave your bedroom door open for me. You'll be ready for me."

He hit me a few more times, then he stood.

"Stay like this."

I knelt by the bed, naked, ass burning, my legs open, and my exposed hole leaking his cum, while he dressed, looking at me. My cock was hard again.

"I broke you in, and now you'll be horny every fucking day. But this is my hole now. Don't you dare let anyone else near you!"

Dressed, he crouched behind me and shoved two fingers into me.

"You'll be dreaming of my dick, yearning for me to come back and fuck you hard and deep."

He began sawing them in and out, rubbing over a bundle of flesh along the front wall of my hole, and in no time, I ached for another peak. Just as I was about to come, he pulled his hand out.

I cried out with desperation. The sudden emptiness was horrible.

Shrugging into his coat, he cast one last glance at my exposed body. Without another word, he left.

I knelt for a while longer, trying to sort out in my head what just happened.

The man had used me. He'd soiled me with his seed. Had I defended myself, he'd have taken me anyway. Gerald ruined me under my father's roof while my father snored downstairs, drunk. If it became known, the disgrace would follow my family for generations. I was spoiled goods now. Defiled, tainted. I should be terrified and brokenhearted.

Except…

I liked it.

That dick moving inside me, pumping me with alpha cum, had been the best feeling I'd ever known. I'd been about to beg him for another taking when he'd left.

I was loose, my hole wet, my cock aching. Trembling, I ran my fingers over my opening. They snagged onto the stretched rim, so I pushed them inside. I groaned. It wasn't the same, but with how sore I was, it felt amazing. Shoving my fingers in and out of my hole, rubbing the cum into my flesh, I gripped my cock. I made myself come again, thinking of the callous alpha taking my virginity and igniting a thousand fires in my body.

I tried to resist, but every night, I ended up putting my fingers inside me, thinking of Gerald's dick. I couldn't wait for him to come back. It took an entire week, but he came to visit again.

Trying to catch his gaze during the evening, I trembled with anticipation. He barely gave me a look, but in an unguarded moment, he brushed my hip with his hand as I passed him, and I knew he'd come for me. I kept refilling my father's glass. When the guests began saying their goodbyes, I excused myself and went to my bedroom, leaving the door unlocked. I stripped, knelt by the bed, and waited. I was wet and ready.

It took a long time, but finally, Gerald came. He laughed when he saw me.

"Eager, are you?"

He spanked me, telling me I deserved it for being so shameless and waiting for him naked and wet like a filthy slut. When he fucked me, the burning skin on my ass enhanced my pleasure, and I was flying on the inside. His big dick pumped in and out of me with more power than last time—he'd been careful with me the first night. Now he didn't hold back, and I came and came. He was ruthless, swearing at me every time I peaked, calling me nasty and a whore.

After that, Gerald visited at least once a week. He taught me how to suck his cock and swallow his cum. He began tying me up before fucking me, and I liked that, too. He bound my arms behind my back and ordered me to ride him until I came all over his chest. Then he ordered me to lick everything off and suck his dick clean. I loved the taste of my own cum, especially after it had been fucked out of me.

Another night, he gagged me with a cloth and beat me with a riding crop while fucking me. He called me his horny boy, his filthy, ruined virgin, fallen angel, and a nympho.

When he was satisfied, he'd watch his cum leak out of me, bring me to the brink of another orgasm with his fingers or the handle of his walking stick, then he'd leave. I would ache inside, dreaming of his cock, until he visited again.

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 the dining 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 was empty . 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 too soon, 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 lace mask 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.

"What? Can't you hear me? Take that off. Want to see you when you suck me."

"You're drunk, sir," I managed, trying to change my voice so he wouldn't recognize it.

"So what?"

Indeed. Many men who came here stank of wine. But so far, only two had paid the sky-high price for me and come so drunk they couldn't even get hard.

"Do you hear me, whore?"

He swayed.

"Guard!" I yelled, and the door to the room burst open. "He tried to hit me."

"What? He's lying. I didn't do anything. I want my money back! Give me my money!" My father kept kicking as my guard dragged him through the hallway.

Before the sun was up the following day, I rode out of the town's gate, cloak over my head and my bags of silver tied behind the saddle, hidden under a woolen blanket.