It's strangely familiar. Sam thinks he should be upset about that. Remembers an alarm in the middle of the night. Rough hands on him, the glint of a smile in the dark. Waking up later, mated and reeking of alpha.
He's been a good omega in the months since. Walkers prize, quickly learning to keep his head low and his mouth shut. Dimly he's aware it was never meant to be like this. Remembers a scent that made him want to open his legs and yield himself to be plundered. Remembers kind eyes and perfect courting gifts. Fantasised about his alpha coming to fight Walker and having Sam like it was meant to be. Knows better now than to hope for anything like that. Still clings to the fading scent on the ring he managed to keep whenever Walker has him or he is given to one of his alpha's loyal subjects as a brief reward.
It's not all bad. Some of the pack omegas are free to be used by anyone. Sam has it easy. Just has to service the pack leader and sometimes the inner circle. He knows this isn't how it's meant to be. Remembers lying in bed months ago, getting wet off the scent on a beautiful hunting knife Barnes had passed along as a courting gift. He remembers teasing his rim with the polished handle and gagging for Barnes to mate him. Remembers he didn't clean the scent of his slick off the knife when he gifted it right back just to see barnes struggle not pop a knot in the presence of their chaperone.
Sam had felt powerful and desirable back then. A foolish child. He's been stripped off such foolish notions. Every time Walker knots him dry he learns what it means to be a good omega. He learns no one is coming for him. He learns that there are no games of seduction. No bride prize. No evenings spent cuddling. There's only existing and serving.
There's no slick. There's no heat. That makes Walker happy. Sam's a good omega like that. He barely ever thinks about the days in which he got wet for a trace of scent and pleasured himself to the idea of being claimed wet and messy and feral with need. Childish and naive fantasies. They soothe him when he wants to gag under Walker's stench.
All that is to say, it's not unfamiliar. Being taken from his pack to be used by alphas.
He just looks at these wolves and wonders if the taste of freedom is the metal of a f?different set of shackles.
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Date: 2022-12-05 12:31 am (UTC)He's been a good omega in the months since. Walkers prize, quickly learning to keep his head low and his mouth shut. Dimly he's aware it was never meant to be like this. Remembers a scent that made him want to open his legs and yield himself to be plundered. Remembers kind eyes and perfect courting gifts. Fantasised about his alpha coming to fight Walker and having Sam like it was meant to be. Knows better now than to hope for anything like that. Still clings to the fading scent on the ring he managed to keep whenever Walker has him or he is given to one of his alpha's loyal subjects as a brief reward.
It's not all bad. Some of the pack omegas are free to be used by anyone. Sam has it easy. Just has to service the pack leader and sometimes the inner circle. He knows this isn't how it's meant to be. Remembers lying in bed months ago, getting wet off the scent on a beautiful hunting knife Barnes had passed along as a courting gift. He remembers teasing his rim with the polished handle and gagging for Barnes to mate him. Remembers he didn't clean the scent of his slick off the knife when he gifted it right back just to see barnes struggle not pop a knot in the presence of their chaperone.
Sam had felt powerful and desirable back then. A foolish child. He's been stripped off such foolish notions. Every time Walker knots him dry he learns what it means to be a good omega. He learns no one is coming for him. He learns that there are no games of seduction. No bride prize. No evenings spent cuddling. There's only existing and serving.
There's no slick. There's no heat. That makes Walker happy. Sam's a good omega like that. He barely ever thinks about the days in which he got wet for a trace of scent and pleasured himself to the idea of being claimed wet and messy and feral with need. Childish and naive fantasies. They soothe him when he wants to gag under Walker's stench.
All that is to say, it's not unfamiliar. Being taken from his pack to be used by alphas.
He just looks at these wolves and wonders if the taste of freedom is the metal of a f?different set of shackles.
"Why am I here?"