Page 10 of Their Alpha

He grabbed my balls and squeezed them slightly, nearly sending me into a premature orgasm. His touch was amazing, like he was calculating how much cum I had in my balls and what he would have to do to get it out. He swept his other hand up my shaft to the beaded moisture at its tip, causing my body to shudder.

Then he gathered my precum on his fingers and tasted it, like a chef checking to see if the sauce was the way he liked it.

“Yes,” he said, slightly hoarse. “This will do nicely.”

I caught a sudden whiff of Fletcher’s burnt sugar scent threading through the overwhelmingly sweet scent of his husband. Together, the two of them were a feast for my nose, sharp and soft, bitter and sweet.

Fletcher jerked back, like he’d broken some sort of trance, and pushed my jeans the rest of the way down to my feet. He untied my shoes while he was crouched, then stood and stared at me with the fiercest look I’d ever seen on an omega.

“Get out of those and get on the table,” he ordered.

“And if I don’t?” I asked. I had to keep up with the kidnapping ruse, after all.

“Then you’ll regret it,” Fletcher said in a flat voice.

That was good enough for me. He could have made any number of threats against my person, my family, or my reputation, but that vague threat made me think that he wasn’t really in the whole thing to be mean, just to help his husband.

I’d used milking chairs before, in fantasies and with Bangers & Mash, but the one Fletcher had was the old-fashioned, slightly torturous-looking kind. It reminded me of a dentist’s chair, except with leather straps and buckles. And the bottom part of the chair where my legs went divided and could be pushed farther apart.

Fletcher wasted no time strapping me in once I’d settled. There were more straps on this particular bed than I was used to, two each on each of my calves, two on each of my thighs, three across my torso, and full leather sleeves along the arms of the chair to keep my arms and hands completely immobile. I was there for Fletcher and Gideon, but as my restraints got tighter and tighter, my body and mind responded sopowerfully that I started thrusting in my binds without trying to.

“Yes,” Fletcher said in a menacing voice once he had me completely restrained, which included a strap around my forehead so I couldn’t move my head. “I can already see you’ll do nicely.”

If the extreme restraint wasn’t good enough, Fletcher stepped over to the cabinet, reached in for a few things, and came out with a pair of latex gloves. I bucked against the restraints holding my hips again. I had a thing for omegas milking me while wearing latex gloves. It was just the right level of degrading and clinical.

Whether Fletcher had any clue about that or not, he played right into my fantasy by holding up one hand and snapping the latex around his wrist as he stared at my cock. He completely ignored me as he studied my hard, dripping shaft that now lay pointing straight up over my belly and the straps holding me down.

“This should be easy,” he said.

He reached back into the cabinet and came out with a bottle of lube and what I recognized as a Heat Lightning dildo. It was the size and shape of an alpha cock with an expanding bit on the bottom to simulate a knot once it was inserted in an omega going through heat. The dildo was hollow as well with a button that activated a pneumatic plunger to deliver much-needed alpha cum.

With a completely straight face, Fletcher walked over to me and unceremoniously opened the bottle of lube, dribbling some over my length. The contrast of hot and cold had me jerking and close to release.

“Hold still,” Fletcher ordered me, like I was a thing to be used and not a person.

I loved that.

With his gloved hand, he stroked the lube over my cock, slicking the whole thing and driving me wild. I groaned at the pleasure of his touch, then panted as he brought the base of the dildo to the tip of my cock.

I burst before he could fully secure the unit to me. It was a powerful orgasm, too, racking my whole body and making me growl with each uncontrollable thrust. Fletcher’s eyes went wide as he scrambled to hold my shooting cock with one hand and the dildo with the other to get as much of my cum inside the thing as he could.

Fortunately for Gid, I had more than enough to fill the cartridge and then some. The indicator that the dildo was loaded lit up, but I kept coming. Hot seed spilled over Fletcher’s hand and my belly, making a complete mess.

I could tell from the flare of Fletcher’s nostrils and the fire in his eyes that he liked what he was seeing and smelling. He kept his face blank for the scene, but as he pulled the full dildo away and fisted me to get every last drop out, he was breathing heavily. As the last pull subsided, he swept his gloved hand around in the puddle spreading over my belly, gathering it all up.

Once again, he shocked me by bringing his hand to his lips and sucking a generous amount of my cum from his hand. That had me jerking into the straps securing my hips, desperate to come some more or to have my knot form. Knots rarely formed outside of an omega’s body, though.

“Fletcher?”

The plaintive cry from the other room was enough to break my heart.

Fletcher immediately tore his focus away from me and stepped toward the double doors.

“I’m coming, baby. I’ve got it,” he said in a voice so tender and protective that it made my eyes sting. I wishedthe two of them could have had what they needed in each other.

Less than a minute later, sounds of slurping and panting, then grunting and slapping came from the other room. I knew full well what was going on, and my body reacted as if I were a part of it. I got hard again in an instant as I listened to the two omegas fucking. I was facing the other way, so even though Fletcher hadn’t blindfolded me, like I’d said he could, I couldn’t see anything. I could only hear the two lovers going at it using my cum to satisfy Gideon’s heat.

It was so heady that I started coming again, shooting ropes of cum across my belly and chest in a completely uncontrolled way. It was sweet torture not to be able to move or touch myself as it happened, not to be touched by anyone. This fantasy was going to tick all my boxes…if it didn’t drive me crazy first.

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