Chapter Text
The sterile hum of the overhead lights flickered to life at precisely 0600, the same as every day. S-01’s eyes opened before the command even crackled through the speaker embedded in the wall. His body had learned the rhythm long ago—muscles loosening, breath deepening, that familiar dread pooling low in his stomach.
He lay naked on the thin mattress, pale skin glowing under the cold white glare. His body was lean with almost delicate lines: narrow waist, sharp hipbones, a build that never quite filled out no matter how many protein packs they pumped into him. His small cock rested soft against his thigh. Beneath it his cunt was already slick with the low-grade arousal the nightly hormone drip always left behind.
The door hissed open.
Three lab techs entered—white coats open over plain black scrubs, clipboards in hand, eyes already dragging over him like he was a particularly fine cut of meat.
“Morning, Subject S-01,” the tallest one said, voice rough with that familiar hunger. He was the one who always took S-01’s mouth first. “Up. Present.”
S-01 moved without hesitation. He rolled onto his back, knees falling open wide, heels planted on the mattress. One hand slid down to spread the lips of his cunt, showing them the glistening pink folds they’d spent years perfecting. His other hand reached lower, pulling one cheek aside to expose the tight ring of his ass. The position left his small cock and balls framed obscenely above his holes, on full display.
“Fuck, look at that,” the second tech muttered, already palming himself through his scrubs. “Prettiest pussy we’ve ever grown. Still gets me hard every damn time.”
They circled the bed like wolves. Calloused hands roamed greedily over him. Fingers traced the sharp cut of his cheekbones, thumbed at his full lower lip, then dipped down to pinch a nipple until S-01’s breath hitched. A thick digit pushed into his cunt without warning, testing the heat and wetness.
“Already dripping,” the third tech noted, clinical tone undercut by lust. “Good boy. Omegan response is stable today.”
S-01’s slanted black eyes, purposely constructed to look seductive half-lidded in submission—flicked between their faces. He didn’t speak unless they asked him a direct question. He simply existed for this. For the way their cocks stretched him open. For the way they used every hole like it had been engineered specifically for their pleasure.
The tallest tech freed his thick cock, already leaking. He climbed onto the mattress and gripped S-01’s sharp jaw, tilting that face up. “Open.”
S-01 parted his lips obediently. The cock slid over his tongue in one smooth thrust, stretching his throat. His gag reflex had been beat out of him long ago. His eyes watered, but he breathed through his nose. At the same time, rough hands yanked his hips higher. A second cock—blunt and hot—pressed against his cunt and shoved in to the hilt.
The wet sound of it filled the room. S-01’s back arched, a broken moan vibrating around the shaft in his mouth. They fucked him in perfect rhythm, one brutal thrust driving him deeper onto the other. His own cock twitched and leaked against his stomach, untouched, ignored. He was used to the low hum of arousal in belly. It was constant— never building, never waning, never cresting.
“Goddamn, this ass is gonna feel even better,” one of them growled, fingers circling the tight pucker before pushing in. The stretch burned, but he was just grateful that they bothered to finger his ass today. S-01’s eyes rolled back, long lashes fluttering against his pale cheeks.
They rotated. Mouth, cunt, ass—sometimes two at once while the third used his hand or simply watched, stroking himself over S-01’s face. Semen painted his tongue, his chest, his twitching hole. They laughed in low, filthy tones.
“Best fucking ass I’ve fucked, man.”
“Gonna fill his guts.”
“Smile for the cameras. Let them see how well the omega template performs.”
Hours later, when they finally stepped back, S-01 lay sprawled and leaking on the mattress— semen dripping from his swollen cunt and ass, lips puffy and shiny, face flushed and debauched. His chest rose and fell in shallow pants.
One of the techs wiped his spent cock on S-01’s thigh like a cumrag, then patted his cheekbone almost affectionately.
“Eat. Hydrate. Rest cycle in forty. We’ll be back after the hormone refresh.”
S-01 swallowed, tasting salt and the faint metallic tang of the lab tech’s come. His voice came out soft, husky, obedient.
“Yes, sir.”
The door hissed shut.
Later in the day, the familiar lights in the examination room buzzed harsher than the ones in his sleeping cell. S-01 lay strapped to the padded metal table, wrists and ankles locked in padded restraints, thighs spread wide by the stirrups. The position left nothing hidden.
Two scientists in full lab coats stood over him. Dr. Afil—the lead geneticist with sharp eyes and thicker fingers—had already drawn blood and was now preparing the next syringe. The other, Dr. Peyronie, younger and meaner, was calibrating the monitoring sensors taped across S-01’s pale chest.
“Heart rate steady. GnRH analogs from last night are holding,” Peyronie noted, voice flat. “Let’s see how the new androgen blocker interacts with the omega uterine lining.”
S-01’s eyes tracked the needle as Afil approached. The prick was quick, but the burn that followed spread deep into his belly, a slow heat that made his cunt clench and leak onto the table. His small cock twitched uselessly against his stomach.
“Beautiful response,” Afil murmured, gloved hand sliding down to cup S-01’s genitals. He squeezed the tiny sack of balls just hard enough to make S-01’s breath hitch.
“Still so sensitive here. Even with no real function to them.”
He gave another cruel little tug. S-01 bit back a whimper.
Dr. Peyronie leaned in, smirking.
“Remember what happened the last time you tried to refuse a session, Subject S-01? When you begged us not to increase the hormone load?”
S-01’s stomach twisted. Of course he remembered. The whip. The taser. The way they’d made him scream until his voice broke.
Afil’s fingers moved lower, two thick digits pushing into S-01’s cunt without warning, scissoring him open while the fresh hormones made everything throb and swell.
“Omegan physiology is remarkable. Zero cancer markers across every scan we’ve run. No cellular degradation even under extreme stress. We’re going to find out exactly why your kind used to be so… durable.”
He curled his fingers hard against S-01’s front wall, pressing until a gush of slick coated his wrist. S-01’s hips jerked involuntarily, a broken moan slipping out.
“See that?” Peyronie chuckled, palming his own growing bulge. “Body knows its purpose even if the brain tries to fight it sometimes.”
They worked him methodically at first—more injections into his hip, his thigh, one directly into the soft flesh just above his pubic bone. Each one made his skin hotter, his cunt wetter, his nipples tighter. His small cock stayed half-hard and leaking clear fluid, utterly ignored except when one of them flicked it dismissively.
“Useless little thing,” Afil said conversationally as he slid a thick speculum into S-01’s cunt, cranking it open wide.
“These balls could come off tomorrow and nothing in your reproductive system would change. Might even make you more compliant.”
S-01’s eyes widened. “Please, sir… I’m good. I’m behaving.”
Peyronie laughed low.
“Only because we maintain you.”
He picked up the thin carbon-fiber crop from the tray. The same one they’d used before.
“Spread wider.”
S-01 obeyed instantly, legs trembling in the stirrups. The first strike landed directly across his small cock and balls—sharp, stinging fire. He cried out, body jolting against the restraints.
“Again,” Afil ordered, still slowly fucking the speculum in and out, examining the glistening pink walls.
“We need better data on pain response versus arousal.”
The crop came down again, and again. S-01 screamed, tears spilling down his face. His balls drew up tight, reddening under the welts. His cock throbbed angrily, shamefully hard despite the pain.
“Please—please stop, I’ll be good, I’ll take everything, I swear—”
Peyronie set the crop down and picked up the handheld taser. He pressed the prongs right against S-01’s tender sack and triggered a short, vicious pulse.
S-01’s scream tore out of him, raw and animal. His entire body seized, cunt spasming hard around the speculum, fresh slick squirting out around the metal. His vision whited out for a second.
When he came back, Afil was stroking his hair almost gently, while Peyronie had his thick cock out, rubbing the leaking head against S-01’s tear-streaked lips. Snot bubbled out his nose.
“All done,” Afil crooned. “You’re going to take both of us while we run the next round of scans. And if you’re very, very obedient, we won’t have to remind you what these worthless little balls feel like when we actually hook them up to the generator.”
S-01 parted his lips immediately, tongue out, eyes glassy with pain. Peyronie thrust into his throat in one motion, groaning at the tight heat. Afil replaced the speculum with his own cock, slamming deep into S-01’s cunt, the wet slap of skin echoing off the sterile walls.
They fucked him like that for the next hour—rotating holes, taking data, filling him with load after load while the monitors beeped and recorded every twitch, every clench, every broken sob.
By the end, S-01 was a wrecked, cum-soaked mess on the table. His small cock and balls were swollen and bruised, his cunt and ass gaping and leaking thick white seed, his face flushed and streaked with tears, snot, and spit.
Afil tucked himself back into his pants and patted S-01’s cheek.
“Excellent session. The cancer-resistance markers are responding beautifully to the new protocol. Keep being our perfect little genetic ghost, and maybe we’ll let those pretty balls stay attached a while longer.”
“Now what do you say, when your scientists have raped you so lovingly,” Peyronie chides.
S-01’s voice was hoarse, barely a whisper. “Thank you, sir…”
The lights in the recovery bay were dimmer. S-01 lay curled on his side on the narrow cot, knees drawn up, trying to breathe through the raw ache that lived in his throat. His voice had been raspy for years now—hoarse and broken from the endless cocks, toys, and devices that had been forced down it.
Every scientist, every senior tech, every security guard who’d earned a pass. He’d taken them all.
They’d pushed harder today. When Dr. Afil had finally pulled out of his ass after the third rotation, S-01 had felt it immediately—the slick, wet slide of something that shouldn’t have been there. He’d twisted on the table, terrified, and caught the glimpse: a small bulge of glistening pink rectal tissue protruding from his wrecked hole, shiny with cum and lube.
It wasn’t the first time but still it had scared him so badly he’d whimpered, voice cracking. “It’s… it’s hanging out again…”
Afil had only laughed, low and amused, and shoved two fingers in to push it back inside.
“That’s normal for an omega under heavy use. Your body was built for rape. Even if it fights back sometimes.”
Afil was right. Rape was sex. Sex was rape. S-01 hadn’t known any different. Sex was pain. Sex was being opened until something tore or slipped. Sex was the burn in his cunt, the raw stretch in his throat, the deep ache that lingered for hours after they were done. That was what his body had learned— known— all his short life.
He shifted on the cot and winced as milky beads of fluid welled up from his nipples again, sliding down the pale skin of his chest. The lactation response had started after the last round of injections.
They said it was promising data—another omegan trait they were trying to stabilize. S-01 just knew it felt strange and humiliating when they pinched and sucked at him during sessions, drawing out the thin sweet fluid while they laughed about how well their little breeding project was coming along.
His hand drifted lower, cupping the tight sack. One teste still felt… wrong. Ever since that punishment six months ago, when he’d made the mistake of trying to close his legs during a particularly brutal breeding marathon.
They had strapped him down, whipped his genitals until they were purple and swollen, split and bleeding, then used a thick leather strap with precise, vicious force. He’d screamed until his voice gave out completely. The right testicle had never felt the same after that—smaller, oddly shaped, a constant dull throb that flared whenever they handled him roughly.
The door hissed open. Two techs and Dr. Peyronie stepped in. Peyronie’s eyes raked over S-01’s wrecked form with satisfaction.
“Still leaking from every hole, I see,” Peyronie said. “Good. The prolapse was impressive today. We got excellent scans of the rectal elasticity. Turn over. Present.”
S-01 moved immediately, body protesting. He rolled onto his back, knees falling open, one trembling hand spreading his cunt while the other reached back to pull his ass cheek aside. His hole was still puffy and loose, the pink inner flesh threatening to slip out again if he relaxed too much.
Peyronie stepped between his spread thighs and pushed in without preamble, thick cock sliding into the warm, taut channel. S-01’s breath hitched, a raspy little cry escaping his ruined throat.
“Fuck… still so tight even after all that,” Peyronie groaned, grinding deep. “Omegan ass is something else.”
He set a brutal pace, hips slapping against S-01’s pale ass. Each thrust made S-01’s small cock bounce uselessly. Milky droplets continued to leak from his nipples with every jolt.
The other tech leaned over and grabbed S-01’s jaw, forcing his head back. “Open that pretty throat.”
S-01 obeyed, lips parting. The cock slid in and he gagged wetly, tears slipping from the corners of his eyes. He tried to relax. It was better when he gave in.
Peyronie reached down and squeezed S-01’s sack, rolling the oddly shaped testicle between his fingers until S-01 sobbed around the cock in his mouth.
“Still tender here, huh?” Peyronie taunted, thrusting harder.
S-01 whimpered desperately, trying to shake his head even with his mouth full. The movement only made the tech in his throat laugh and push deeper.
They used him like that for a long time—switching holes, slapping his leaking nipples, fingering the soft pink prolapse that kept pushing out every time they pulled free of his ass. When they finally finished, they left him sprawled and ruined.
S-01 lay there panting, voice too wrecked to speak above a whisper. He stared at the ceiling.
This was sex.
This was his purpose.
This was all he knew.
In the procedure room, S-01 was already quivering on the table, wrists and ankles locked wide in the stirrups, his lean pale body glistening with a thin sheen of nervous sweat. The procedure room never meant anything good. It was where his cunt was broken in for the first time, where he learned his anus could be penetrated, where all things bad were introduced.
Dr. Afil stood between his spread thighs, gloved hands parting the puffy, swollen lips of S-01’s pussy with clinical precision. The other scientists had already left; this was Afil’s private session. He liked to test the newest modifications alone.
“Easy, Subject,” Afil murmured, voice low and affectionate as he slid two thick fingers deep into the slick channel. He curled them, searching, pressing upward against the front wall.
“We’ve been stretching that little penile urethra for months with the sounds. But your vaginal urethra is untouched. I’ve been wanting to see how well it takes cock.”
S-01’s eyes widened in confusion and fear. “W-what…?”
The word came out hoarse and broken. He hadn’t known. No one had ever told him that hole existed in that way. He only knew the constant sounding of his cock—cold metal rods forced deeper and deeper until his small shaft bulged obscenely.
Afil withdrew his fingers, now shiny with fresh slick, and picked up a thin, flexible probe. He teased the tiny opening hidden high inside S-01’s cunt, just beneath the sensitive ridge where the inner lips met. The probe slipped in easily. S-01 gasped, hips jerking against the restraints as an unfamiliar, intimate burn spread through him.
“Fuck…,” Afil breathed, eyes darkening with greedy hunger. He worked the probe deeper, watching the monitor as it slid into the narrow channel. “Tight. So fucking tight. But it’ll open for me.”
He removed the probe and positioned himself closer, thick cock in hand, the flushed head already leaking. He rubbed it against S-01’s dripping cunt lips first, coating himself, then notched it directly against that hidden urethral opening.
S-01 started crying harder, soft broken sobs shaking his stunning face. “Please—Dr. Afil, I don’t— I’ve never—”
“Shh. You were made for this.” Afil pushed.
The stretch was immediate and vicious. The head of his cock forced its way into the impossibly narrow passage, stretching the delicate flesh in a way nothing ever had before. S-01 screamed. His whole body seized, muscles locking, cunt spasming wildly around nothing while that tiny hole inside him was pried open.
Afil groaned deeply, eyes half-lidded in pleasure.
“Goddesses be damned. So tight. Like a virgin sleeve sucking me in.”
He rocked his hips, sinking another inch.
S-01 thrashed weakly in the restraints, tears pouring freely. The urge to urinate was so strong and the pain was sharp, invasive, wrong in a way that made his stomach churn. It felt like his insides were being rearranged, like something delicate and private was being ruined forever.
Afil gripped S-01’s narrow hips and thrust deeper, slow and relentless, forcing the tight channel to yield.
“Look at how your body takes it. This is why we rebuilt you, omega ghost. Every hole. Every secret little passage. All for use.”
The bulge was visible— subtle distortion high inside S-01’s pale lower belly, in his bladder.
Afil started fucking in earnest—short, brutal thrusts that made S-01’s body jolt on the table. Each push sent fresh sparks of pain and unwanted, humiliating pleasure shooting through his core.
S-01’s raspy voice cracked into desperate, whimpering pleas. “It hurts—please, it hurts inside—please, sir—”
Afil crooned softly and drove deeper, bottoming out as much as the tiny urethra would allow. The wet, obscene sounds of flesh stretching filled the room alongside S-01’s sobs.
“You’ll get used to it,” Afil promised. “You’re made for it.”
He kept fucking the narrow channel with focused, greedy strokes, one hand reaching down to occasionally press on the visible bulge in his lower abdomen.
S-01 tried to go away in his mind, tried to float. Sometimes it worked. Sometimes he liked to imagine just feeling the touch of Afil’s hand without the pain, just the warmth of skin without the penetration. But this kind of pain and invasion was too new, and it kept him viciously present.
When Afil finally came, he buried himself as deep as possible and pumped thick ropes of cum straight into the sensitive passage, flooding it until it backflowed messily around his shaft, mixing with S-01’s piss. He couldn’t hold it in anymore and sobbed as he lost control of his bladder.
The scientist stayed inside for a long minute, savoring the spasms, before slowly pulling out. A thick gush of cum and piss followed, leaking from the now-gaping vaginal urethra.
S-01 lay there quivering violently, crying softly, eyes glassy and distant. His face was a wreck of tears and exhaustion. His body shook with aftershocks, every muscle twitching uncontrollably. The new violation burned deep inside him — a raw, invasive ache high in his cunt where nothing should ever have reached.
Afil patted his pale thigh tenderly.
“Excellent first session. We’ll do this daily from now on. Your cock urethra gets the sounds… and this cunt-urethra gets my cock. Maybe the others too, once we confirm it holds up.”
S-01 lay trembling on the procedure table, the restraints still holding his thighs obscenely wide. He thought he had grown numb to it all. Every cock, every toy, every injection, every experiement.
But this… this was new. Dr. Afil had raped something inside him that S-01 hadn’t even known could be raped.
With a trembling hand, S-01 reached down between his spread legs. His fingers brushed the swollen, puffy lips of his cunt before finding the tiny opening high inside. It was wrong. It was supposed to be a tiny slit, almost invisible. Instead it gaped — loose, reddened, and dripping thick white cum in slow, obscene pulses. Every tiny clench forced another milky bead out.
A fresh sob tore from his hoarse throat.
Dr. Afil stood beside the table, calmly wiping his spent cock with a sterile cloth, watching S-01’s exploration with clinical interest.
“Careful,” Afil said mildly. “You’ll bruise it more if you poke too hard. That was a deep load. Straight into the bladder. Amazing, isn’t it?”
S-01’s eyes still glassy with tears flicked up to him.
“Your… your semen is in my bladder.” The thought made his stomach twist.
If he were normal, he would already be burning with infection. A UTI at minimum. But he wasn’t normal.
He was their omega ghost.
They had proven it years ago. They had brought in the worst of the worst — ugly, mangled cocks covered in ulcers infected with syphilis. Thick shafts leaking green gonorrheal sludge. Others riddled with weeping herpes blisters and chlamydia discharge. Men who were excited for the chance to fuck again with no consequences. One after another, they had forced them down his throat, into his cunt, and deep into his ass.
Nothing ever took.
No fever. No lesions. No spreading sickness. His body simply… refused them. Another perfect omegan trait. Another data point for their research.
S-01’s fingers pressed lightly against the gaping urethral meatus again and he winced sharply. The sensitive flesh fluttered around nothing, still trying to close, still leaking Afil’s seed.
“How much more…” he sobbed quietly, the words cracking. “How much more are you going to take from me?”
Afil set the cloth aside and leaned over him, one large hand stroking S-01’s sweat-damp black hair gently. His other hand moved down to cup S-01’s small, damaged balls, rolling the oddly-shaped one between his fingers until S-01 whimpered.
“As much as we need to,” Afil answered softly. “Your body is the only living omega template left. Don’t you want to be a hero? Don’t you want to save lives? Save humanity? Don’t be selfish, S-01. We are all doing our part in society.
S-01’s face crumpled. He looked every bit the ruined beauty they had engineered — flushed, tear-streaked, lips swollen, body leaking from every abused hole. And he didn’t want to be selfish. Not when this was all he was capable of, all that he could offer to the world.
Afil finally released his balls and patted his thigh.
“Rest for twenty minutes. Then we’ll flush you and start the next round of hormones. Maybe we’ll invite Dr. Peyronie to test that new hole too.”
S-01 didn’t answer. He just lay there, legs still forced open, trembling and crying softly as the reality settled deeper into his bones.
There was always something new.
And they would never stop taking.
Once S-01 accepted his place, everything was easy again. He grew numb to it.
The days blurred into a haze of cold lights, injections, and endless cock. He barely registered the thick shaft slamming into his cunt anymore, or the second one buried down his ruined throat. His body moved on autopilot—hips rolling to take, throat relaxing around the intrusion, eyes half-lidded and distant. His face showed almost nothing. Just the occasional flutter of his lashes when they hit a particularly sore spot.
Until the alarms exploded.
Red lights flared across the walls. A piercing siren ripped through the room. S-01 jolted violently, body recoiling hard enough that the two scientists fucking him cursed and yanked out with wet, obscene sounds. His stretched cunt and ass clenched around nothing, already leaking.
“Fuck—plug him! We can’t lose the data!” one of them barked.
They moved fast. A thick, inflatable plug was rammed into his dripping pussy, pumped up until it bulged in his lower belly. Another, even larger, stretched his ass wide and locked in place. His small cock was already stuffed with a long, thick sound that made the shaft bulge obscenely. His tiny balls were already tied off tight with a thin cord, the sack a painful, shiny purple.
Then they ran.
“Subject Z-01 is going apeshit feral!”
“Why the fuck now?!”
“We tried to penetrate him and—”
“Stupid fucks, he’s an alpha, he’s not gonna want to be fucked!
The door slammed behind them. S-01 was left alone on the examination table, legs still locked in the stirrups, plugs stretching him full, balls aching, body quivering under the screaming red lights. His eyes were wide, heart hammering against his ribs.
Another?
There was another subject? Like him?
Z-01.
S-01 had always thought that he was the only one. He never saw any other test subjects besides him. How many were there?
If he was S… and the other was Z… was there–
The thought barely had time to settle before the main door exploded open with a metallic screech.
A huge man filled the frame.
Broad shoulders, thick barrel chest, heavy muscle wrapped in a solid layer of healthy bulk of raw power. He was taller than the door. He was completely naked, heavy cock and large balls hanging soft but still intimidating between powerful thighs. A potent scent rolled in with him — warm honey and deep cedar — cutting straight through the sterile air and hitting S-01 like a physical force.
The man’s gaze locked on him.
“You are naked… like me,” the stranger rumbled, voice low and rough.
He stepped closer, frowning. “Do you… are you kept? Like me?”
S-01 nodded slowly, still trembling.
This… is Z-01?
The big man tilted his head. His deep, gray eyes dropped, taking in everything: S-01’s slender pale body, the small cock bulging around the sound, the tied-up purple balls, the puffy cunt lips stretched tight around the fat plug, the faint milky beads still leaking from his nipples.
“You look different,” Z-01 said quietly, “...there is… extra hole.”
S-01’s raspy voice barely carried over the alarms. “I-I’m an omega… I think.”
Z-01 came closer. He was big, but he didn’t seem scary, only curious. He reached down and carefully nudged S-01’s legs wider, staring at the plugs and the way S-01’s body was displayed and prepared.
“Why is this inside you?” His thick fingers brushed the base of the cunt plug. “Does it hurt?”
S-01 shivered at the unfamiliar touch. No one had ever asked him that before.
“So they can rape me whenever they want,” he whispered. “Do they… do they not do this to you?”
Z-01 shook his head. His eyes softened, then grew shiny with sudden emotion.
This man was beautiful. His skin was darker than S-01’s, but his eyes were light and soft, framed by thick, inky, wet lashes. Z-01’s hair was black like his but had a streak of white running through it. His jaw was strong and his nose was sharp and tall.
“I think that’s what they were trying to do. But I did not like it.” A tear slipped down his cheek, disappearing into his beard.
“Does it hurt?” Z-01 repeated.
“Sometimes,” S-01 answered honestly, voice hoarse and small.
Z-01 stayed there between his spread thighs. That rich honey-cedar scent wrapped around them both, strangely comforting in the middle of the chaos.
The alpha was staring at him with something he had never seen directed at him before. Almost warm and soft.
“You are so beautiful,” Z-01 said, voice low and rough, like the words had been dragged up from somewhere deep in his chest.
S-01’s heart stuttered. He had been praised thousands of times— best ass, so tight, beautiful response— but never like this. Never with that gentle rumble, like Z-01 actually meant him, rather than the functions they had engineered.
A large, warm hand settled on S-01’s pale thigh, broad and soft and impossibly gentle. S-01 keened — a broken, desperate sound that scraped out of his throat. His whole body trembled at the contact. Touch that didn’t hurt. Touch that didn’t take.
Z-01’s thick brows drew together in concern. “Did I hurt you?”
“No— no,” S-01 gasped, shaking his head frantically. “It feels… good. Please don’t stop.”
Z-01’s hand stayed, thumb slowly stroking the sensitive skin of his inner thigh. His gaze drifted lower, curious and troubled, to the thick plugs still buried inside S-01 and the cruel leather tie biting into his purpled balls.
He reached down and gripped the base of the cunt plug. With slow, careful strength he began to pull.
S-01 whimpered as the massive toy started to slide out. It seemed to grow wider and wider the further Z-01 tugged — a long, black, glistening monstrosity that had been locked deep inside him for hours. When it finally came free with a wet pop, a thick gush of slick and leftover cum poured out of S-01’s gaping hole.
Z-01’s eyes widened.
“You are so small…” he murmured, voice thick with disbelief. “How did this fit inside you?”
S-01’s eyes were glassy, cheeks flushed. “I’m good,” he whispered, voice raspy and eager. “I’m very good. I can take a lot. I can take you— I can. Please.”
Z-01 glanced down at his own heavy cock, already thickening against his thick thigh. Even soft it was massive. Fully hard it would be brutal. His eyes darkened as he looked curiously at his own cock.
“I guess you could,” he said slowly. “You look like you were meant to take me. Like you were made to be mine.”
S-01 shuddered hard, plugs and sound and aching balls momentarily forgotten. “I can, I promise, I can take you. All of you. I’d— I want to be yours.”
Z-01’s expression shifted. A slow, beautiful smile spread across his strong face, lighting up his face and making his deep gray eyes shine with sudden tears. It was radiant. Devastating. The most beautiful thing S-01 had ever seen.
“You want to be mine?” he asked, voice cracking with emotion.
S-01 nodded frantically, tears of his own slipping down his face. “Please. I don’t want to be their subject anymore. I want to be your subject. Yours.”
Z-01 beamed, the smile so wide and genuine it made his barrel chest puff out. “Okay. You can be mine. You can be my subject. And I give you anything you want.”
S-01’s breath hitched. “Anything?”
Z-01 nodded solemnly.
S-01 didn’t know what to ask for, what to want for. He just wanted— this man. All of him.
The alpha was quiet for a moment, thumbs still gently stroking over the tender, bruised skin of S-01’s sack. Then his eyes lifted, soft and determined.
“If you are to be mine,” he said slowly, “then you must have a name that is not theirs. A name that is just mine.”
S-01’s breath caught, eyes wide and shining.
Z-01 leaned in, pressing his forehead gently to S-01’s. “My favorite shape is a cylinder. Your name can be Syllen.”
Syllen.
The name settled on his tongue like warm honey. He tasted it, rolled it around, let it slip from his lips in a reverent whisper.
“Syllen…” His voice cracked.
“Do you like it?” Z-01 asked shyly.
“Syllen… I like it. I love it. It feels like… me.” A fresh wave of tears spilled down his cheeks, but this time they felt different.
Z-01’s smile returned, bright and emotional. “Good. My Syllen.”
Then, Z-01 looked at him with hopeful eyes.
“Since I’m yours now too… do I get a name? One that’s just yours?”
Syllen thought hard, searching through the limited words and feelings he had been given in his life. He stared at the big, teary-eyed alpha who had already shown him more gentleness than he had ever known.
The little omega wanted to give the alpha a name that would be as worthy and weighted and deserving of someone so wonderful like him. The only person in the world who could keep him sane.
Sane.
Z-01.
Zane.
“Zayin,” he finally whispered. “Your name is Zayin.”
Zayin’s breath hitched. He said it back softly, like he was testing the weight of it.
“Zayin…” A tear slipped down his cheek. “I like it. It feels… right.”
He pulled Syllen closer, burying his face against the smaller man’s neck, breathing him in.
“My Syllen,” he murmured, voice thick with emotion.
“My Zayin,” Syllen whispered back, the names already tasting like freedom on both their tongues.
Then his gaze dropped again to Syllen’s tiny, tied-up balls — swollen dark purple and visibly throbbing. His face twisted with displeasure. Without hesitation, Zayin reached down and carefully untied the cruel leather cord. The blood rushed back in and Syllen hissed through his teeth, but Zayin’s big warm hands immediately cupped them gently, soothing the ache.
“They hurt you a lot, little omega,” Zayin said, voice thick with anger and sorrow.
Syllen shook his head quickly, even as fresh tears spilled from his eyes. “I’m strong. I can take it. I’ve taken worse.”
Zayin made a low, unhappy sound in his throat and leaned down, pressing a surprisingly soft kiss to the top of Syllen’s sharp hipbone, right above the abused skin.
“I do not want you to take worse. Only good,” he murmured against pale skin. “All the good things”
Zayin’s warm hand stayed on his thigh as the alpha reached for the remaining plug buried deep in his ass. He gripped the base gently and began to pull, slow and careful, like Syllen was fragile, like he wasn’t built for this.
A raw, shattered sound ripped from his lipst as the massive toy slid out of him. It was thicker than the first, ridged and cruelly long. When it finally popped free with a wet, obscene sound, a heavy gush of slick and cum poured out behind it. Syllen’s wrecked hole didn’t close. A soft, glistening pink bulb of rectal tissue slipped out slightly, blooming from the brutal repeated use.
Zayin’s eyes widened.
“This one is even bigger…” he murmured, voice thick with disbelief and something pained. “How did they fit so much inside you, little one?”
Syllen’s face burned with a shame he had never felt before. Not in front of the scientists. Not during any of their experiments. But here, under the soft gaze of this huge, kind man, he suddenly wanted to hide. His pale hands twitched uselessly against the restraints, trying to close his legs.
“I… I used to look prettier,” he whispered hoarsely. His eyes squeezed shut in embarrassment. “My holes… they used to be tighter. Prettier. I’m sorry. I’m so wrecked now—”
His words cut off in a strangled scream.
Because Zayin had leaned down and taken Syllen’s small cock — sound and all — into his hot, wet mouth.
Syllen’s entire body arched violently off the table.
Never.
Never in his life had anyone put their mouth on his cock.
The scientists had ignored it completely except to hurt it. But Zayin’s mouth was warm and soft and impossibly gentle, his full lips wrapped around the bulging shaft while his tongue pressed against the sensitive underside.
The pleasure was blinding.
Syllen screamed again, hoarse and broken and overwhelmed. His slender hips jerked, thighs trembling wildly in the stirrups. Every nerve ending that had only ever known pain or clinical use suddenly lit up like delicious, devastating fire. Zayin sucked slowly, carefully working around the thick sound still lodged inside his tiny cock, humming softly as if he were savoring him.
Syllen’s voice cracked into desperate, sobbing moans. “Ah— Zayin— please— I’ve never— oh— oh!—”
Zayin pulled off just enough to speak, lips shiny, eyes glassy with emotion. A tear slid down his own cheek.
“You taste good,” he rumbled, voice deep and reverent.
“Sweet. Like you’re mine.”
Then he sank back down, taking Syllen deeper, tongue swirling lovingly around the bulging shaft and the swollen balls beneath it.
Syllen’s mind fractured. The prolapse, the gaping holes, the years of agony — all of it melted under the onslaught of this brand-new pleasure. His small cock throbbed wildly inside Zayin’s mouth, the sound shifting with every bob of the big man’s head. His cunt clenched and fluttered around nothing, still dripping.
He was screaming, crying, keening — a beautiful, wrecked mess shaking apart under the first pleasurable touch he had ever known.
Zayin didn’t stop. He worshipped him with slow, devoted strokes of his tongue, one big hand gently cupping Syllen’s sore balls while the other rested possessively on his sharp hipbone.
The alpha finally pulled off Syllen’s cock with a wet pop, lips glistening. His thick brows furrowed deeply as he eyed the long, thick metal sound still lodged inside the tiny shaft.
He wrapped two careful fingers around the base and began to slide it out, slow and steady. The sound came free with a slick glide, leaving Syllen’s small cock flushed dark and twitching, the urethral opening now gaping slightly.
Zayin frowned, deep and troubled. “Are there more holes? More things they put inside your body?”
Before Syllen could answer, Zayin’s big hands began roaming with curious gentleness. He checked the shallow dip of Syllen’s belly button, pressing one thick finger inside as if expecting something hidden. He leaned in and nosed at his armpits, then tilted his head to peer into his nostrils and even gently tug at his ears.
Syllen let out a wet, broken giggle through the pleasured tears still streaming down his face. The sound was hoarse and rusty, like his throat had almost forgotten how.
“No… that’s all,” he rasped, voice cracking with overwhelmed joy and need. “That’s all they put in me.”
Zayin’s eyes softened again, shining with fresh tears. A slow, radiant beam spread across his face. “You like it when I suck on your little cock?”
Syllen nodded frantically, eyes glassy and desperate. “I love it so much. Please— please don’t stop. No one’s ever… I’ve never felt anything like that.”
Zayin’s smile widened, “Then I will continue.”
He lowered his head again and took Syllen’s small, sensitive cock back into his hot, wet mouth in one smooth motion. Zayin sucked like he was devoted to it, humming softly.
The pleasure hit Syllen like a wall.
He screamed — a raw, raspy wail that echoed over the distant alarms. His body bowed tight, every muscle locking as wave after wave of blinding, unfamiliar ecstasy crashed through him.
It was too much. Too good. Too kind.
Syllen felt his pleasure crest and peak and then something gave. His vision whited out.
His scream fractured into broken sobs as his tiny cock spurted weakly into Zayin’s mouth — thin, clear pulses of fluid that the big alpha swallowed with a pleased rumble. The orgasm seemed to go on forever, shaking Syllen apart from the inside out. His wrecked holes pulsed visibly, the small prolapse in his ass peeking out again as his body convulsed with aftershocks.
When it finally ebbed, Syllen collapsed back against the table, trembling violently.
Zayin pulled off slowly, licking his lips with a satisfied, emotional little sound. He rested his cheek against Syllen’s trembling thigh, coarse beard rasping gently against the soft skin, eyes shining up at him with something fierce and protective and soft all at once.
“You taste like mine,” he murmured thickly. “You make such pretty sounds. I like it so much. You are mine? Really mine?”
Syllen’s throat worked. “Yes— yes, yes, I’m yours. Please, I only want to be yours. No one else’s. Never again.”
Zayin made a low, pleased sound that vibrated through his broad chest. “Oh, you are just so wonderful,” he said, “So sweet.”
The praise hit Syllen like a drug. A broken, needy sound left his lips, drinking the praise in with every cell in his body.
Zayin moved with surprising care for his massive size. He unstrapped Syllen’s legs from the stirrups, then scooped the smaller man up as if he weighed nothing. He lowered them both to the cold floor of the lab, sitting with his back against the base of the examination table and pulling Syllen down on top of him.
Syllen draped over that huge, warm body like he was made for it. Zayin radiated heat like a furnace with overwhelming, living warmth. Syllen buried his face against the hair on Zayin’s chest, inhaling that rich honey-and-cedar scent, and let out a shaky, wet sob of pure relief.
Zayin’s thick arms wrapped around him completely, one hand stroking slowly up and down his narrow spine, the other cupping the back of his head.
Syllen trembled. He wanted this to never end. He wanted to melt into this man, crawl into his skin, and stay there forever.
“I want to make you completely mine,” Zayin whispered against his hair, voice thick with tears and want.
Syllen nodded frantically against his chest. “Yes— yes, please! Make me yours. I want it. I want only you.”
Zayin gently laid him on his back on the floor, then shifted down between Syllen’s spread thighs. For a moment, the alpha just stared curiously. Syllen thought — hoped — he would take his cock into that warm mouth again.
Instead, Zayin lowered his face and dragged the flat of his broad tongue slowly over Syllen’s swollen, neglected clit.
Syllen’s scream was raw and shattered.
His eyes rolled back, cheeks flushed dark as blinding pleasure tore through him. No one had ever touched him there like this. The scientists had pinched, flicked, shocked, ignored — but never worshipped.
Zayin groaned deeply, the sound vibrating straight into Syllen’s core as he licked again, broader, slower, savoring the slick sweetness. His strong jaw worked, beard brushing teasingly against Syllen’s sensitive inner thighs and puffy cunt lips. He licked over the clit in firm, loving strokes, then circled it, sucking gently on the swollen nub.
Syllen’s hips jerked helplessly.
He reached down with both hands, spreading the puffy, abused lips of his pussy open wide, presenting the glistening pink interior like an offering.
Zayin’s breath hitched. He leaned in closer, staring with open wonder.
“So pink inside,” he whispered, awed. “Like pretty wet petals. So beautiful.”
Syllen flushed hot from his hairline to his cheset, a deep, flustered warmth he had never felt before. No one had ever looked at him like this. He felt exposed in an entirely new way — vulnerable and wanted at the same time.
Zayin lined up the fat, leaking head of his cock against that slick entrance. He pushed forward slowly.
The stretch was enormous.
Syllen gasped desperately as the thick crown forced its way inside, spreading him wider than any plug or toy ever had. Zayin groaned loud and broken, eyes rolling back for a second as he sank deeper.
“So warm,” he choked out, voice wrecked. “So soft and hot—nngh —”
This must have been new for him too. Zayin probably had only ever been handled by cold, clinical hands just like Syllen. He doubled over Syllen’s smaller body, drooling slightly into the curve of his neck as he mouthed and licked at the sweat there, hips pushing forward in shallow, greedy thrusts until he was buried as deep as Syllen’s body would allow.
Syllen’s eyes rolled back. Zayin was huge. The intense stretch made his swollen clit jut out obscenely, throbbing against the thick shaft splitting him open. He clenched hard around the invading cock, trying desperately to make it good, to be perfect for this man who had already given him more pleasure than he had known existed.
It felt so different from anything before.
Real. Hot. Pulsing. Alive.
Every throb of Zayin’s cock sent sparks of overwhelming pleasure through Syllen’s core. He could feel the heavy heartbeat through that thick flesh, the way it flexed and filled every inch of him.
“Zayin—” he rasped, voice hoarse and desperate, arms wrapping tight around the alpha’s broad back. “You’re so big… feels so good— please— make me yours, please—”
Zayin growled softly against his neck, hips starting to move in slow, powerful rolls, fucking into that tight, fluttering heat with deep reverence. Tears slipped from his gray eyes onto Syllen’s pale shoulder.
“Mine,” he breathed, voice cracking. “All mine now.”
He drew his hips back and thrust forward again, deeper this time, a heavy, rolling stroke that buried his thick cock to the hilt inside Syllen’s tight, fluttering heat. A broken groan tore out of him, raw and animal.
“So warm… so warm and hot—”
The alpha lost himself completely.
The wet, silky clutch of Syllen’s cunt was nothing like the cold, mechanical hands that had jerked him off for data. This was living velvet, pulsing and sucking around every inch of him, dripping and clenching like it was trying to pull him even deeper. Zayin’s hips snapped harder, faster, powerful thrusts that made Syllen’s body jolt beneath him on the floor.
Syllen’s face — that stunning, tear-streaked face with those beautiful slanted black eyes — was pure nectar to him. Every gasp, every broken keen, every flutter of those long lashes made Zayin pant and drool openly. He cupped Syllen’s small face in both of his huge hands, thumbs stroking reverently over the sharp cheekbones as he nuzzled against his forehead, his temple, his trembling lips.
“Mine,” he growled between heavy breaths, voice thick and cracking with emotion. “Mine, mine— my sweet one. My little one. My sweet… my sweet…”
The words poured out of him like a prayer, over and over, ragged and desperate.
Syllen didn’t know what felt better.
The massive cock stretching him open, dragging against every ruined, sensitive inch inside him — so hot, so real, pulsing and alive — or those soft, devastating words.
My sweet. My sweet one.
Syllen clung to Zayin’s broad back, nails digging into thick muscle, legs wrapped high around the alpha’s waist as that huge cock pounded into him. His swollen clit rubbed relentlessly against Zayin’s pelvis with every thrust.
“Zayin— Zayin—!” he cried out hoarsely.
Zayin kept nuzzling him, drooling against his neck, hips snapping harder as he chased the overwhelming pleasure. “My sweet… my sweet little omega… so good for me… so warm… mine—”
The praise and the stretch and the raw, protective hunger in Zayin’s voice pushed Syllen over the edge again.
He came again, body seizing violently beneath the much larger man. His cunt clamped down hard around Zayin’s cock, gushing fresh slick in pulsing waves that soaked them both. His small cock twitched and spurted weakly between their bellies. His eyes rolled back, sharp cheekbones flushed dark, mouth open in a silent cry as the orgasm tore through him harder than anything before.
Zayin groaned loud and deep, hips stuttering as he fucked Syllen through it, savoring every flutter and squeeze.
“Good… so good,” he panted, voice breaking with tears and pleasure, still nuzzling and kissing at Syllen’s face like he couldn’t get close enough.
Zayin didn’t slow down.
He kept fucking Syllen with deep, powerful rolls of his hips. The wet, filthy sounds of their joining filled the room — slick and obscene, punctuated by Syllen’s broken rasps and Zayin’s heavy, groaning pants. The alpha’s thick body blanketed him completely, sweat-slick skin sliding together, honey-and-cedar scent wrapping around Syllen like a drug.
“My sweet… my sweet little one,” Zayin kept murmuring against his lips, voice wrecked and teary. He kissed him sloppily, nuzzled his sharp cheekbones, licked at the fresh tears spilling from Syllen’s heavy-lidded black eyes.
“So good for me. So perfect.”The praise and the relentless drag of that huge cock against his swollen clit and sensitive inner walls pushed Syllen over the edge a third time.
He came with a hoarse, shattered scream, body convulsing hard beneath Zayin. His small cock pulsed weakly between them, adding to the mess. Syllen’s eyes rolled back, mouth open in a silent cry as pleasure ripped through his exhausted body.
Zayin groaned loudly at the feeling, hips stuttering. “That’s it— my sweet boy— squeezing me so nice…”
Then something began to swell.
Syllen felt it — the thick base of Zayin’s cock inflating rapidly, stretching him impossibly wider, locking them together. The pressure against his front wall and clit was devastating. Zayin growled, grinding deep as the swell fully bloomed, trapping his cock inside.
“Mine,” Zayin snarled, voice breaking. He bared his teeth and sank them into the side of Syllen’s neck— deep enough to tear, to mark, to claim.
Syllen cried out at the bite and instinctively lunged upward, latching his own teeth onto the thick muscle of Zayin’s shoulder. The taste of salt and copper flooded his mouth as he bit down.
They came together.
Zayin roared against Syllen’s neck as thick, heavy ropes of cum flooded his cunt, pulse after pulse forced deep by the pulsing knot. Syllen’s own orgasm crested again from the overwhelming fullness and the raw claim of teeth in his skin — weaker this time. His body milked the bulb desperately, greedy for every drop.
They stayed locked like that, trembling and panting, mouths still latched onto each other’s necks in a messy, instinctive bite. Zayin’s tears dripped onto Syllen’s shoulder. Syllen’s own tears mixed with sweat as he clung to the massive alpha like he would die if he let go.
Syllen never wanted it to end.
He wanted to live inside this moment forever — wrapped in Zayin’s heat, filled with his cock and his cum and his scent, marked and claimed and wanted. He wanted to crawl into Zayin’s body and stay there, safe and warm and his.
“Zayin…” he rasped against the bite mark, voice barely more than a broken whisper. “Don’t let them take me back. Please… I want to be yours forever.”
Zayin’s arms tightened around him, knot still locked deep, pulsing steadily. He licked tenderly at the fresh bite on Syllen’s neck, gray eyes soft and shining with emotion.
“You are mine,” he promised thickly, voice thick with tears and satisfaction. “ My sweet. My omega. Mine.”
The big alpha experimentally brushed his lips against Syllen’s sharp collarbone, then higher, soft open-mouthed kisses along the fresh bite mark on his neck. His large hands roamed slowly down Syllen’s sensitive sides, thumbs stroking over the lean muscle and sharp hipbones with reverent curiosity.
Syllen shivered hard, a full-body tremble that made his cunt flutter around the knot. It felt so good — warm, curious touch that didn’t pinch or probe or hurt.
Zayin nuzzled deeper into the curve of his neck, inhaling Syllen’s scent in long, greedy breaths. A low, needy whine vibrated against his skin. The sound was raw, almost desperate, and it hit Syllen like a revelation.
The alpha was just as starved for this as he was.
Tentatively, Syllen tilted his head and pressed his own lips to the thick muscle of Zayin’s shoulder, kissing the salt-sweat skin there. Then again, slower, dragging his mouth along the strong line of Zayin’s neck. The noise the alpha made — a deep, broken groan mixed with another whine — sent a rush of heat through Syllen’s chest.
He loved it. Loved that he could pull that sound from this huge, powerful man.
Syllen kept touching. Slim pale hands explored the broad expanse of Zayin’s back, tracing thick muscle and the soft layer of padding over it, sliding up into black and white hair. He touched everywhere he could reach, hungry and shy at the same time, while Zayin continued kissing and rubbing and nuzzling like he couldn’t get enough.
Then the knot began to slowly deflate.
Syllen felt it immediately — the thick bulb at the base of Zayin’s cock shrinking, the relentless pressure easing. A broken sob caught in his throat. Fresh tears spilled as he clung tighter, legs wrapping desperately around Zayin’s thick waist.
“No… please stay inside,” he whispered. “I want you in me forever… please don’t pull out…”
Zayin lifted his head and cupped Syllen’s face in both big hands and kissed his trembling lips gently.
“Shhh, my sweet one,” he murmured, voice thick and soothing. He rolled his hips in a slow, careful grind, keeping as much of his softening cock buried inside as he could.
“It is alright. I will keep it in you for as long as possible. I do not want to leave either.”
He stayed there, heavy and warm, still half-hard inside Syllen. One arm wrapped securely around Syllen’s narrow back while the other hand stroked soothingly down his side. Zayin nuzzled back into his neck, breathing him in, pressing soft kisses wherever his mouth could reach.
“I have never felt anything like you,” Zayin whispered against his skin. “Never had anyone warm like this. I will give you everything, my sweet. Everything.”
Syllen buried his face in Zayin’s chest.
He had never felt so full, so wanted, so safe.