Chapter Text
Caitlyn exhaled slowly. Today was the day.
Unmated, fertile omegas from the Zaunite districts would be brought before her—presented, exposed, and assessed for selection as a potential mate.
Within Piltover itself, there were omegas more than willing to accept the role at her side. Yet each one struck Caitlyn as fundamentally the same: compliant, polished, predictable. Dull. None carried anything that truly held her attention.
They had the right traits, the right body, the expected anatomy—soft cunt to be used, womb to be bred—and still, none of it stirred anything beyond cold indifference.
In the end, none had been enough.
And so she was entitled—by bloodline, by status, by every silent law woven into the foundations of Piltover itself—to take whatever she desired and whomever she desired.
Even so, her advisers had become increasingly persistent over recent weeks, pressing endlessly about heirs, pups, and the continuation of the Kiramman lineage. Caitlyn had ignored the matter for as long as her patience allowed, but eventually even she grew tired of the constant pressure.
If they were so desperate for results, then fine. She would give them their little spectacle.
And Zaun, as always, would provide.
The lower city—darker, poorer, suffocated beneath Piltover’s shining heights—would send its offerings upward. If one chose to dress it in softer language, it could even be framed as a civic arrangement, a redistribution of burden disguised as opportunity.
And if one were less charitable, it hardly seemed likely that Zaun would mourn the absence of a single omega.
After all… to be selected by her was meant to be an honor. An elevation. A privilege.
The omega would be kept, housed, fed, clothed in Piltover’s finest—she would want for nothing.
And in return, she would carry the queen’s heirs. She would be obedient, she would be grateful. And, above all, she would take Caitlyn's cock like a good girl.
A soft click at the door broke her thoughts. Grayson, her head of security, entered without knocking.
“They’re beginning to arrive, Your Majesty.”
Caitlyn’s gaze drifted toward the window, overlooking the glittering kingdom she commanded. “Let them in.”
The line of omegas moved through the grand hall in subdued silence, each one stepping forward at Grayson’s quiet command, pausing before the throne, then shuffling away to stand with the others along the far wall.
Caitlyn watched from her seat, elbow resting on the arm of the throne, chin propped on her knuckles. She let her gaze drift, cataloging details without interest.
Most kept their heads bowed. Some trembled. Others wept silently.
All of them stank of fear and resignation.
The hall was large, echoing, and cold. Light streamed down from high windows, catching dust motes in golden beams. There was no comfort here. Only assessment.
Another omega stepped forward. This one had dark hair matted at the temples, hands clasped so tightly her knuckles were white. She did not lift her gaze from the marble floors.
Caitlyn’s attention skimmed over her, dismissed her, moved on.
“Next.”
This one was smaller, thin, with wide, terrified eyes. She stared straight ahead at nothing, swaying slightly as if she might faint at any moment.
“Next.”
Another.
And another.
Caitlyn’s patience thinned. She shifted in her seat, irritation prickling under her skin. The air was thick with the cloying sweetness of omega's pheromones. It lingered beneath the surface—an undercurrent of biological readiness that did nothing to stir her. Instead, it made the room feel suffocating, sticky.
Grayson signaled for the next.
The doors at the far end opened once more.
And this time, Caitlyn’s attention sharpened.
The omega who stepped inside was nothing like the others. No bowed head. No trembling hands. No tears quietly slipping down flushed cheeks.
In fact, as she was dragged closer, several details became immediately apparent. The first—she wasn’t walking on her own. Two guards hauled her forward with little care and a firm grip, almost rough, as if restraining something unruly rather than presenting something delicate. Her arms were bound tightly behind her back, posture forced instead of offered, a strip of cloth shoved between her lips to keep her silent.
Defiance, then. Not submission.
The second realization struck harder.
She was, without question, the most striking omega Caitlyn had ever seen. Not merely beautiful—there was an edge to it, something that resisted softness, something that didn’t yield under scrutiny. And beneath that, something even rarer: muscle. Real, defined strength shaping her frame, carved into her shoulders and arms in a way that felt almost wrong for an omega.
Unusual. Intriguing. Promising.
A faint, almost inaudible growl rumbled in Caitlyn’s chest, more instinct than thought.
Grayson cleared her throat. “Apologies, Your Majesty. This one… resisted.”
Caitlyn’s gaze did not waver. She watched the omega strain briefly against her restraints, the movement pulling sharply through her back—muscles flexing, tendons standing taut beneath faintly sun-kissed skin.
She needed a closer look.
Then, as if sensing her approach, the omega went completely still. Slowly, she lifted her head and her eyes met Caitlyn’s. They were not afraid. They were furious. They burned with a promise. Caitlyn knew what it was in an instant.
I will kill you for this.
The thought unspooked in her mind with the clarity of scripture, and a slow, satisfied smile touched Caitlyn’s lips.
Her choice was made. It had been made the moment their eyes locked. She was the one.
“Her name?” Caitlyn asked with a cold and even tone.
Grayson glanced at the guard holding the omega’s left arm. “Vi, Your Majesty. Just Vi.”
“Vi,” Caitlyn repeated softly, testing the weight of the name on her tongue. She let the silence linger, deliberate and controlled, before lifting a hand as she reached to take hold of the omega’s face and pull her closer.
The moment her fingers brushed against warm skin, everything snapped.
The omega lashed out.
She surged forward with sudden, violent force, thrashing hard enough to wrench herself free from the guard's grip. The movement was fast—too fast—and before anyone could react, her head drove forward in a brutal arc, slamming straight into Caitlyn’s face.
The impact sent her staggering back a step, balance breaking just enough to force a retreat.
Gasps rippled through the room.
Steel rang out as weapons were drawn in sharp, panicked unison, and the two nearest soldiers lunged in again, grabbing hold of Vi with far less restraint this time, forcing her back under control.
“Your Majesty!”
Caitlyn shook her head sharply, raising a hand to stop them. A thin trickle of blood seeped from her nose, and she could feel the dull throb beginning to settle deep in the bone.
She looked at Vi—at the defiant set of her jaw, the unbroken fury in her gaze.
And smiled.
A genuine, unguarded smile that transformed her face from distant authority to something far more dangerous.
Then she turned to Grayson. “I want this one.”
Grayson’s expression faltered for only a fraction of a second. “Your Majesty—”
“Don’t question me,” Caitlyn cut in, tone soft but absolute. “I want everyone out.”
Grayson hesitated only briefly before giving a short, sharp nod. “Yes, your Majesty.”
With a lazy flick of her hand, Caitlyn dismissed the guards, the attendants, and the remaining omegas gathered along the edges of the chamber. Boots echoed against marble as they filed out one by one until the massive doors finally closed behind them with a heavy thud.
Silence settled over the room.
Vi remained alone before the throne now—wrists bound, gag still tight between her teeth, fury practically radiating from every tense line of her body.
Caitlyn descended the final steps at an unhurried pace, gaze fixed entirely on the omega. There was something almost predatory in the way she approached her, calm and composed while Vi looked seconds away from lunging at someone’s throat.
Slowly, the alpha reached forward and took hold of Vi’s chin, fingers firm and impossible to resist. Her thumb brushed along the sharp line of her jaw in a touch that felt far too possessive to be gentle.
“You are such a pretty little thing,” Caitlyn murmured, voice smooth and low, almost purring. Then the faintest smirk tugged at her lips. "But very naughty too."
She leaned in, tilting her head just slightly, inhaling deeply. The scent of Vi’s defiance was sharp—something smoky, metallic, undercut by the faint, wild sweetness of omega heat simmering just beneath the surface.
Delicious.
“Do you have any idea,” Caitlyn breathed, lips brushing the edge of Vi’s ear, voice lowered into something dark and dangerous, “what I’m going to do to you?”
The alpha pressed closer until not even a sliver of space remained between them. The thick outline of her cock dragged slowly along Vi’s thigh through the fabric, deliberate and taunting, the friction enough to wrench a sharp gasp from the omega before she could stop herself.
A quiet chuckle rumbled from Caitlyn’s chest.
“You feel that, don’t you?” she muttered, tightening her grip slightly. “That little stunt of yours got me worked the fuck up.” Her body pressed harder against Vi’s back, possessive heat wrapping around her completely. “I could throw you onto the floor right now and fuck every hole you have until you’re too dumb to do anything except whine for more.”
The words lingered thickly between them.
“But lucky you…” Caitlyn continued, tone turning almost mocking, almost affectionate in a deeply twisted way. “You’re not just some worthless omega bitch anymore.”
Her breath ghosted over Vi’s skin again, slower this time.
“You’re mine. My mate.” A quiet exhale, then a faint, dangerous smirk in her voice.
“And tradition says we do things properly.” She pressed in just a little harder, letting the tension linger and for Vi to feel the size of her cock.
“So sadly you’ll have to wait,” Caitlyn purred with a tone filled with mockery. “Until the wedding night.”
Then Caitlyn pulled back slightly, blue eyes locking onto Vi’s once more. She held the gaze for several long seconds before finally reaching up, fingers hooking beneath the cloth gag and tearing it free in one smooth, deliberate motion.
Vi gasped, a sharp, ragged inhale as the obstruction vanished, and then she spat—a glob of saliva catching Caitlyn’s cheek.
But Caitlyn didn’t flinch. Didn’t recoil. She didn’t even bother wiping it away. Instead, she simply stared at Vi for a moment before a slow smile spread across her face, widening with dangerous amusement rather than anger.
“Feisty,” Caitlyn murmured, almost to herself, amusement curling through the word as she studied the omega beneath her grip.
Vi’s chest rose and fell sharply, fury burning bright behind exhausted eyes. “Go to hell.”
A soft laugh escaped the alpha.
“Oh, darling,” Caitlyn replied, thumb stroking slowly along Vi’s jaw once again, possessive and infuriatingly calm. “We’re already there.”
***
The ceremony had been arranged with a peculiar restraint, almost understated for something tied to royalty. A scattering of councilors stood in quiet clusters. A handful of nobles lingered nearby—some drawn by idle curiosity, others by a hunger for spectacle thinly veiled as obligation. And everywhere, an overwhelming presence of guards, their rigid stances turning the space into something closer to a controlled display than a celebration.
At the altar, Caitlyn stood composed, every inch of her was the image of authority. Still, poised, patient. The officiant beside her shifted faintly, but she did not. There was no tension in her posture, no uncertainty—only the quiet certainty of someone who knew exactly how the scene would unfold.
Then the doors burst open.
“Let me the fuck go, you bastards!” Vi screamed, shattering the fragile decorum instantly.
Vi was dragged inside between two of the largest guards the royal force could offer—massive figures who barely seemed to strain despite the way she fought against them. She twisted, kicked, thrashed with feral resistance, feet scraping harshly against polished stone as she tried to wrench herself free.
It wasn’t graceful. It wasn’t dignified. It was a struggle—raw, furious, and utterly futile.
Her breathing came sharp and uneven, eyes blazing with defiance as she glared ahead, jaw clenched hard enough to ache. Every movement screamed resistance, even as her body was forced forward step by step.
And at the altar, Caitlyn watched.
Unmoving. Waiting. With a flicker of something almost like satisfaction in her expression as Vi was finally hauled to a halt beside her.
The officiant cleared his throat, clearly unsettled, and began to speak.
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today…”
Vi wrenched against the guards holding her. “Get your fucking hands off me!”
They tightened their grip, and she snarled, twisting violently enough to make one of them grunt with the effort to hold her.
The officiant stumbled over his words. “If… if there is anyone who can show just cause why these two may not be lawfully joined—”
“I’ll show you just cause,” Vi snapped, trying to throw herself toward Caitlyn with a vicious curse already forming on her lips.
The guards caught her immediately, rough hands locking onto her arms and forcing her still before she could get anywhere near the alpha.
Caitlyn didn’t even flinch.
“Do go on,” she said calmly, almost amused, as if this were nothing more than a mild interruption.
The officiant swallowed visibly before fumbling through the ceremony with renewed urgency. “Do you, Caitlyn Kiramman, take this omega to be your lawfully wedded mate?”
Caitlyn finally looked away from Vi, turning toward him with the same composed expression she wore through everything else. Unhurried. Certain.
“I do.”
A ripple of something—relief, perhaps—passed through the gathered councilors and nobles.
Then the officiator turned toward Vi. “And do you—”
Vi spat at him.
The guards shifted instantly, their grips tightening like vises as they forced her down, pinning her more securely. She fought, thrashing again, muscles straining, teeth bared. There was no submission in her—only fury.
The officiant flinched, taking a step back. “I… I need her consent—”
“You don’t. It’s already been decided,” Caitlyn cut in smoothly, voice calm enough to make the words even more suffocating.
Her attention settled fully back onto Vi as she spoke. She watched the omega struggle against the guards with open fascination—the tension running through her body, the sharp hitch of breath each time she tried and failed to break free, the pure hatred burning behind grey eyes.
Slowly, Caitlyn tilted her head.
Then she raised one hand toward the nearest guard.
“Her hand.”
The guard glanced at Caitlyn, then at Vi, before reaching down and forcing her right arm out, spreading her fingers wide. Vi’s muscles spasmed with resistance, her entire frame rigid as she tried to pull back.
Caitlyn stepped forward, taking Vi’s hand in her own. Her grip was firm, possessive, her thumb brushing over the back of Vi’s knuckles in a slow, deliberate stroke. She held the contact, her gaze locked on Vi’s, as she slid a simple gold band onto her finger.
It didn’t fit quite right, too loose, but Caitlyn didn’t seem to care.
With the ring now settled in place, Caitlyn leaned in close, lowering her voice into something intimate and absolute, meant for Vi alone as she murmured, “Now you belong to me.”
Vi’s breath hitched immediately, her entire body trembling with a surge of furious resistance so intense it felt like it was radiating off her skin in waves. With a violent jerk she wrenched her hand free, stumbling backward as the guards rushed in to restrain her again, struggling to contain the raw, feral energy she still had left in her.
Caitlyn watched her for a long moment, expression unreadable, controlled, before finally turning her attention to the room as a whole. Her voice carried cleanly through the silence that had already begun to settle, sharp with authority and unshakable certainty as she declared, “Let it be known that we are bonded. Anyone who witnesses this will understand that she is my mate, and anyone foolish enough to challenge that fact will answer directly to me.” The effect was immediate; the chamber fell into a heavy, absolute silence, no one daring to speak or move as the weight of her words sank in.
Only then did Caitlyn look back at Vi again, gaze steady and final as she gave the next order, calm as ever despite the chaos just beneath the surface: “Take her to my chambers,” she said, then paused briefly, eyes narrowing slightly as she added, almost idly, “and make sure she doesn’t fall on the way.”
***
The doors to Caitlyn’s chambers opened, revealing a space that was less a bedroom and more a declaration of power. Dark wood, deep blue velvet, high ceilings that swallowed light. In the center of the room, four posts rose from a massive bed, their gleaming surfaces reflecting the faint glow of candles scattered throughout the space.
Vi was thrust inside without ceremony, her body hitting the floor hard enough to knock the breath from her lungs. The guards didn’t linger even a second longer; the doors slammed shut behind her with a heavy, final thud that echoed through the chamber, followed almost immediately by the sharp, unmistakable click of a lock turning into place.
Silence settled in its wake, thick and suffocating, broken only by Vi’s ragged breathing as she pushed herself up onto her hands and knees, lifting her head just enough to glare at Caitlyn with open, burning hatred.
“You’ll regret this,” she spat with a rough voice full of fury.
Caitlyn didn’t respond right away. Instead, she began to move, circling Vi slowly with deliberate, unhurried steps, her gaze trailing over every line of her body with a quiet, possessive focus that made Vi’s skin crawl in a way she refused to acknowledge.
When she finally spoke, her voice was calm, almost reflective, as if they were discussing something trivial rather than the situation unfolding between them. “You fought hard today,” she murmured, the faintest note of approval threading through her tone. “I liked that.”
Vi didn’t answer, only stared back at her with clenched teeth and rigid posture, refusing to give her anything.
Caitlyn continued her slow orbit, boots soft against the floor, until she came to a stop just slightly out of reach. “It’s a shame,” she added then, voice dropping a fraction lower, more controlled, “that such fire has to be put out.”
She stopped in front of Vi, close enough that Vi could feel the warmth radiating from her, close enough that the scent of her—something rich, intoxicating, undeniably dominant—wrapped around her like a physical thing.
“But it will be,” Caitlyn said, voice sinking lower and lower until the words were barely more than a whisper between them, calm in a way that made the threat beneath them even worse. “Because I’m going to break you.”
For the briefest moment, Vi’s breath caught in her throat.
Then the fury returned in full force.
“You wish,” she spat, launching herself forward without hesitation, all raw instinct and violence.
But Caitlyn was faster.
She sidestepped Vi’s lunge with almost insulting ease, moving with the kind of effortless grace that only made the failure sting worse. In the same motion, Caitlyn’s hand shot out and closed around the back of Vi’s neck. The grip was immediate and crushing, iron-firm as she yanked the omega off balance and slammed her face-first against the nearest bedpost.
Vi grunted sharply as her forehead struck polished wood, vision blurring for a split second. Instinctively she tried to shove herself back upright, muscles straining as she fought against the hold pinning her there, but Caitlyn barely seemed to exert any effort keeping her restrained.
“I told you,” Caitlyn breathed, lips brushing lightly against the curve of Vi’s ear, voice soaked in dark, quiet satisfaction, “that I liked when you fight.”
She pressed closer then, body solid and unyielding against Vi’s back, surrounding her completely until every breath she took carried Caitlyn’s heat and scent with it.
“But do you actually think you can beat me?” she continued, tone sharpening slightly with amused disbelief. “Do you even know Noxus? Our dear warmongering neighbors?”
A soft, humorless huff brushed against Vi’s skin. “I was trained by one of their finest generals,” Caitlyn went on, each word measured, deliberate. “Years of it. Since childhood.”
Her grip tightened just slightly—enough to remind, enough to hurt.
“You don’t stand a fucking chance.”
But Vi wasn’t about to stop there.
With a sharp twist of her body, she tore herself free just enough to turn, feet planting firmly as she snapped back into a fighting stance. No hesitation—only instinct. Her fists came fast, one after another, a flurry of raw, unrefined aggression aimed straight at Caitlyn.
The alpha didn’t even flinch.
Each strike was evaded or deflected with effortless precision, movements clean, economical—almost bored. Vi’s blows cut through empty air or met firm resistance, never once finding their mark.
Then, in a single fluid motion, Caitlyn moved.
A sweep—fast, decisive.
Vi’s legs were knocked out from under her before she could react, balance stolen in an instant. She hit the ground hard, forced down onto her knees with a jarring impact that echoed faintly through the space.
“That’s better,” she murmured, voice laced with cold satisfaction. “A far more fitting position for a stubborn little omega like you.” Caitlyn’s fingers coiled through Vi’s hair, pulling her head back just enough to expose the frantic pulse beating in her throat. A quiet hum, a slow, deliberate breath—inhaling Vi’s scent like it was the finest wine.
“So much fight still left in you,” Caitlyn observed while her thumb stroked slowly over the rapid flutter of Vi’s pulse. “I wonder if you’ll still be this defiant once I’ve knotted you.”
Vi snarled, twisting in her grasp. “Let go of me!”
Caitlyn’s grip only tightened, nails digging in just enough to sting. “Or what? You’ll fight me again?” A slow, dangerous smile touched her lips. “Please do.”
Caitlyn’s grip on Vi’s hair tightened, firm and possessive as she forced the omega’s head back, exposing the vulnerable line of her throat. A low hum of satisfaction vibrated in the alpha’s chest while she breathed in the scent of Vi’s anger—sharp and heated, tangled with the unmistakable sweetness of a distressed omega.
“I wonder,” Caitlyn murmured softly, thumb brushing over the frantic pulse hammering beneath Vi’s skin, “what that smart little mouth of yours is actually good for.”
Her free hand moved downward then, slow and utterly unhurried, confidence woven into every deliberate motion. The quiet rustle of fabric filled the room as she adjusted herself beneath her trousers, leaving the implication hanging thickly between them.
The heavy length of Caitlyn’s cock pressed insistently against Vi’s flushed cheek, thick with heat and pulsing faintly where it rested against her skin. Its size alone felt deliberate, humiliating—a cruel reminder of exactly what Caitlyn intended to force from her sooner or later. The air had become saturated with the dense scent of alpha arousal, musky and overpowering, thick enough to cling to the back of Vi’s throat with every shaky breath she took.
A sharp tremor ran through her body.
Vi recoiled instinctively, trying to twist her face away despite the hand tangled tightly in her hair. A broken sound escaped her then—small, strangled, full of naked disgust that she couldn’t quite suppress.
Caitlyn laughed softly.
The sound was low and dark, almost amused, vibrating straight through Vi in a way that made her stomach twist. Not kindness. Never kindness. The kind of laugh reserved for something cornered, something already caught long before it realized there was nowhere left to run.
“Oh, don’t be shy now.”
Her grip tightened without warning, fingers curling harder into pink strands before giving a sharp tug that forced Vi still again. The movement dragged a pained breath from her lips.
Caitlyn hummed approvingly at the sound.
“Open up,” she murmured, voice smooth and dangerously soft, the kind of tone that only made the command underneath it feel more threatening. “And show me how grateful you are.”
Grateful.
The word lingered between them like poison wrapped in silk.
Vi’s entire body went rigid with a fury so absolute it seemed to burn away everything else—fear, pain, reason. There was only this. Only her. Only the searing, blinding hatred that demanded release.
And so, when Caitlyn pressed the head of her cock to Vi’s lips, Vi did.
She opened her mouth.
But it wasn’t submission. It was a trap.
Caitlyn saw it just before it happened—a flicker in those defiant eyes, a tensing of the jaw—she quickly reacted and pulled away, just as Vi’s teeth snapped shut with a vicious, audible click, missing their mark by a hair's breadth.
Air crackled between them, thick with unspent violence.
“You little—”
Before Caitlyn could finish, Vi lunged again.
She drove forward with a raw, desperate force, teeth bared, aiming for anything she could reach. Caitlyn stumbled back a step, momentarily off-balance, but her training—the years of brutal Noxian discipline—kicked in instantly.
The alpha didn’t retreat.
Instead, she surged forward, meeting Vi’s charge with a brutal efficiency that felt less like reaction and more like inevitability itself. Caitlyn moved with a cold, lethal grace—economical, precise, every shift of her weight calculated down to the smallest degree. There was no hesitation in her stance, no uncertainty in the timing. Only the quiet certainty of someone who had already accounted for every possible outcome.
Vi’s momentum became her downfall before she even realized it.
Caitlyn slipped just outside the line of impact, a subtle pivot of her body that turned Vi’s aggression into exposure. In the same breath, she struck—clean, decisive, aimed with clinical accuracy at the back of Vi’s knees.
The effect was immediate.
Vi’s legs gave out beneath her.
A sharp cry tore from her throat as she hit the ground hard, impact rattling through bone and breath alike. Pain flared hot and disorienting, cutting through instinct before thought could fully form. The world tilted for a fraction of a second—enough time for realization to set in.
She had been dropped.
Not overpowered in chaos, not worn down through attrition—but stopped. Cleanly. Efficiently. Completely.
And Caitlyn was already there.
The alpha followed her down without hesitation, closing the space like it belonged to her by right. There was no pause between strike and control, no moment where Vi could reclaim distance or rebuild momentum. Caitlyn’s presence came down over her like a verdict already delivered.
“You want to bite?” Caitlyn snarled.
The voice was different now.
Whatever edge of mockery or restraint had existed before had been burned away, leaving something sharper in its place. Not loud. Not uncontrolled. But stripped down to something raw and absolute, the kind of authority that didn’t need volume to be obeyed.
She was all alpha now.
All predator.
All fury contained in perfect control.
Caitlyn’s hand closed around Vi’s wrists and forced them above her head in a single, merciless motion. The grip wasn’t just strong—it was immovable, like an iron clamp designed to erase the possibility of struggle entirely. Vi’s body tensed immediately, instinct screaming for resistance, but there was nowhere for it to go. Every attempt to twist free only tightened the reality of the hold.
Helplessness, precise and physical, settled in with brutal clarity.
Above her, Caitlyn didn’t even shift her balance.
Her other hand caught the back of Vi’s ceremonial dress, fingers sinking into fabric before tightening with deliberate force.
Then she yanked hard.
The sound of ripping fabric filled the room as the fine material gave way, exposing Vi’s back and the swell of her ass to the cool air.
“I was planning to be nice, pop your cherry and breed your pussy like a good mate” she said growling, while her weight pressed down on Vi, pinned her in place. Her breath was hot against Vi’s ear. “But you just had to be a defiant little bitch, didn’t you? So now I’m going to take what’s mine—exactly how I want it.”
Vi thrashed beneath her, a wild, desperate creature caught in a trap. She bucked, twisted, kicked—her movements fueled by pure, unadulterated desperation. But it was useless. Caitlyn was stronger, faster, trained. She held Vi down with an ease that was terrifying.
“You can fight all you want,” Caitlyn said between breaths, weight shifting as she steadied herself. “It won’t make a fucking difference.”
She shifted her grip with practiced ease, forcing Vi down against the cold floor, pressing her chest flat while lifting her hips high—leaving her exposed, positioned exactly how she wanted. There was nothing gentle in the movement, nothing hesitant. Only control.
Caitlyn’s hands slid over her ass, fingers spreading her apart without ceremony, baring everything. For a brief moment, she simply looked—taking in the sight beneath her with slow, deliberate appreciation. The tight ring of muscle twitched faintly, a subtle, involuntary reaction to the cool air brushing against it, as if the body itself already sensed what was coming.
Vi’s body was a live wire of pain and fury, pinned beneath the crushing weight of the alpha. The cold stone against her cheek was a small, sharp reality in a world that had dissolved into a nightmare. Caitlyn’s words, the promise of violation, hung in the air like a shroud. But something in Vi refused to break. Not yet.
As Caitlyn shifted her grip to force Vi’s hips higher, a narrow opening appeared. A fraction of a second where her weight shifted and her focus tightened on control rather than defense. It was all Vi needed.
With a guttural scream, Vi forced what strength remained in her battered body into a violent twist. It wasn’t clean technique—just survival. Her elbow drove back into Caitlyn’s ribs with a solid impact.
Caitlyn grunted as the air left her, her hold breaking for a split second.
That was enough.
Vi wrenched herself free and scrambled away on her hands and knees, moving fast across the polished floor with only distance in mind. Torn fabric clung and dragged as she pushed forward without slowing.
She didn’t get far.
A foot came down hard on her lower back, driving her into the ground. The impact knocked the air from her chest and sent sharp pain through her already injured body.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Caitlyn’s voice was no longer a purr of dark amusement. It was flat, cold, utterly devoid of emotion. The sound of it was more terrifying than any shout of rage.
Vi pushed against the floor, fingers sliding over smooth stone without finding grip. The pressure on her back stayed constant, keeping her pinned as her breath came in short pulls against the impact still sitting in her ribs.
Behind her, fabric shifted. A belt slid free from its loops, leather scraping softly through cloth as Caitlyn pulled it loose.
The foot lifted from her back, and for a fleeting moment, Vi thought she might have a chance to scramble away again. She pushed up, trying to get her feet under her, but a sharp, whistling sound cut through the air before a line of fire erupted across her back.
Vi cried out as the strike landed. She dropped back to the floor and threw her arms over her head, trying to cover as much as she could.
The belt came down again. Then again. Leather cracked through the air in a steady rhythm, each impact breaking into skin and muscle. Her voice broke loose with every hit she couldn’t brace for. She curled inward, trying to shrink herself against the floor, but the blows kept finding her—back, hips, thighs—any exposed space left open.
Through it all, Caitlyn stayed steady. Her breathing didn’t change as she stepped through the motion, each swing controlled and deliberate, the pattern of punishment measured and unbroken.
“Still have some fight in you?” Caitlyn’s voice was dangerously calm. “Good.”
The whipping stopped as suddenly as it had begun. Vi lay panting on the floor, her body a canvas of burning pain, trembling uncontrollably. She flinched as she felt Caitlyn’s presence behind her.
Hands, surprisingly gentle in comparison to the violence they had just wrought, grabbed her wrists. Vi tried to pull away, but her strength was gone, burned away by the assault. Caitlyn pulled her arms behind her back.
The cool, smooth leather of the belt wrapped around her wrists, cinching tight. Caitlyn pulled the buckle digging into Vi’s skin as she secured the makeshift restraints, knotting them with a final, vicious tug.
Vi tested the bonds but it was a futile, desperate gesture. They were secure. Her hands were bound tightly behind her, leaving her utterly helpless, completely exposed.
Caitlyn stood and moved around her, coming to a stop directly in front of Vi. She looked down without speaking, blue eyes fixed and unblinking.
Vi lay on the floor, vision shaking from tears and impact. Her gaze stayed locked upward anyway, refusing to drop away even as her breathing hitched through the pain.
Caitlyn’s mouth tilted into a slow smile. “That’s much better,” she said. “Now we can get back to business.”
She reached down and caught a fistful of Vi’s hair, lifting her head until her throat was exposed and held in place. “Ready to be a good mate now?”
Vi’s glare was her only weapon now, a silent, blazing rejection of the question. The answer was carved into every line of her face, every tremor of pain-fueled rage that ran through her bound body.
Caitlyn’s smile widened, a predator admiring the fire in its prey’s eyes. “No? I didn’t think so.” Her fingers tightened in Vi’s hair, a sharp, punishing grip that made Vi’s scalp sting. “That’s alright. I don’t need you to be willing. I just need you to be open and I can do that myself.”
Caitlyn released her grip on Vi’s hair, letting her head drop back to the cold stone with a dull thud. The omega’s body was a tense, trembling line of defiance, even in utter defeat. The bound hands behind her back made her arch slightly, pushing the raw, welted curves of her ass up in a silent, unwilling invitation.
She knelt behind Vi, the fabric of her trousers whispering against the floor. She placed a hand flat in the center of Vi’s back, feeling the frantic, rabbit-fast beat of her heart through the bruised skin. Vi flinched at the contact, a full-body shudder of revulsion, but did not have the strength to pull away.
Caitlyn leaned over her, her own breath warm against Vi’s ear. "I told you I was going to break you," she murmured with a low possessive hum. "Let's start with this pretty little asshole."
She shifted, the head of her cock nudging against Vi’s tight, untouched entrance. There was no slickness, no willing welcome—only the dry, clenched resistance of a body refusing to be invaded. Vi tensed, every muscle in her body going rigid as she prepared for the assault.
Caitlyn didn't rush. She pressed forward, slowly, savoring the way Vi’s body fought her, the way the resistant muscle gave way, millimeter by agonizing millimeter, under the persistent, unyielding pressure.
Vi let out a choked gasp. The sensation was a searing, unrelenting burn as the thick head of Caitlyn's cock forced its way past the tight ring of muscle, stretching her to the point of tearing.
A sharp, coppery scent joined the musk of their arousal.
Caitlyn paused, buried just inside her, feeling the faint tremors of pain and rebellion wracking Vi’s body. She looked down, her gaze fixed on the place where their bodies were joined. A thin trickle of blood, dark against Vi’s pale skin, welled up from where she had been torn.
She pushed deeper, sinking another inch, then another, forcing her passage. Vi’s cry was muffled against the stone floor. Her bound hands flexed uselessly behind her, the leather of the belt cutting into her wrists.
Caitlyn’s hands gripped Vi’s hips, holding her in place as she began to move. Each thrust was slow, deliberate, a grinding, punishing rhythm that was designed to inflict pain, to overwhelm, to dominate. She pulled back almost entirely, only to press forward again, forcing her way deeper each time, stretching Vi further, claiming every inch of her.
“There's a good girl,” Caitlyn said between breaths. She kept her gaze on her. “Taking it so well. Who knew this is all you were good for?”
Vi’s only response was a series of choked, breathless sobs, each one punctuated by the brutal snap of Caitlyn’s hips against her. The pain was a constant, overwhelming tide. She could feel the wet slide of her own blood, the shameful heat of the alpha’s cock inside her, the humiliating way her body was being used, broken.
The omega tried to retreat inward, to claw her way into some remaining fragment of herself that still felt untouched, but there was no escape from the physical reality pressing in on every side—the burn, the stretch, the relentless, invasive presence that reduced thought to fragments. It felt less like sensation and more like confinement, as if her own body had become something she could no longer properly inhabit.
Caitlyn’s control began to slip, just slightly at first, then more noticeably as her own need overwhelmed restraint. Her movements grew sharper, more urgent, rhythm breaking into something less measured and far more instinctive. The sounds in the room shifted with it—the wet, unrelenting friction of bodies meeting, the uneven cadence of breath, the occasional broken gasp that dissolved into silence.
She leaned forward, chest pressing into Vi’s back, heat layering over heat as her lips hovered close to the omega’s ear.
“Mine,” she said, the word roughened into something almost feral in its certainty. “This is mine. All of you.”
Her grip tightened, anchoring Vi in place as her voice dropped further, heavy with possession. “And I’m going to fill you so completely there won’t be a single part of you that doesn’t know it belongs to me.”
The alpha saw Vi growing quieter, her sounds now turning into whimpering until she finally went still.
“Not so bratty now, right? Don’t faint—there’s still the best part left.” Caitlyn panted.
But it was useless; pain and exhaustion had already left Vi out. Vi’s head lolled against the floor, cheek pressed against stone as her body went slack beneath the alpha.
Well that was a shame but it didn't matter either way. She was already buried deep inside her. The rhythmic contractions of Vi’s passage around her cock were already starting—spasming even in unconsciousness—drawing her in with every clench.
“Even passed out you’re begging for it,” Caitlyn said through gritted teeth, pleasure sharpening each word.
The sight alone nearly sent her over—Vi’s slack form, the blood streaking pale thighs, the impossible tightness still gripping her despite Vi’s silence. She drove in harder, chasing that final crest until her knot began to swell at her base.
The pressure mounted.
Each thrust forced the knot deeper. Vi’s unconscious body yielded to the invasion with no more resistance than yielding flesh. Caitlyn’s rhythm grew ragged—short, sharp jabs as she worked the widest part of herself past that final resisting ring of muscle.
Then, with a harsh gasp, she breached fully.
The knot locked inside her.
Caitlyn’s entire body went rigid as release tore through her—hot and violent and complete. Her cock pulsed with deep, rolling spasms as she emptied herself into Vi’s still form.
"Yes," she breathed, hips grinding against the omega’s ass as if she could force herself even deeper. "All of it. Take it."
She collapsed forward, chest heaving against Vi’s back. The weight of her body pinned Vi to the floor, trapping her there as the knot held them fast. For a long moment, the only sounds were their breathing—Caitlyn’s ragged pants against Vi’s silent stillness.
When Caitlyn's knot finally began to subside, she pulled out with a wet sound. A rush of semen followed her exit, slicking Vi's thighs and pooling on the floor beneath her.
Caitlyn examined with clinical interest. A trickle of semen leaked from Vi’s bruised opening, which was still pulsing weakly as if trying to expel what had been forced inside.
“Such a pretty mess,” Caitlyn murmured.
She reached down and scooped some of her release onto her fingers before bringing them up to Vi’s slack face. She wiped the fluid across the omega’s lips.
A thin line of saliva connected Vi’s slightly parted lips to Caitlyn’s thumb as she pulled her hand away. The alpha stood then and surveyed the scene before her.
Her gaze drifted back toward Vi's ass ring again, lingering on the flushed, reddened skin.
“That looks painful,” Caitlyn murmured, almost thoughtfully. “But don’t worry, pup.” A slow smile touched her lips. “You’ll learn how to be the perfect mate eventually. You’ll see.”