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His response is swift and decisive. His tail wraps around my throat again, pulling my head back while his other hand presses between my shoulder blades, forcing my chest down and hips higher. The position is textbook claiming posture—one I couldn't escape if I tried.

"Your pride is irrelevant," he states, the head of his cock sliding through my folds without entering. "Biology doesn't care about your dignity."

He's right, and we both know it. The heat is reaching critical mass, my temperature climbing toward dangerous levels. Without claiming, my system will begin shutting down—seizures first, then organ failure, then death. My medical training confirms what my body already knows: submission or death, no other options.

"Please," I whisper, the word torn from me by necessity rather than desire.

"Please what?" he demands, pressing just the tip inside, stretching my entrance without providing relief. "Tell me what your omega body needs."

Another wave of heat crashes through me, this one so intense my vision whites out at the edges. Rational thought fragments as biology takes control, stripping away everything except desperate need. "Please," I gasp, abandoning pride for survival. "I need... I need your cock. Need you to fill me."

"And my knot?" he pushes, still barely inside, making me feel every textured ridge as he holds position.

"Yes," I sob, hating myself for the admission. "I need your knot. Please."

The first thrust drives him deeper than I thought possible, stretching tissues to their limit and beyond. The ridged surface of his shaft creates friction against my inner walls that sends bolts of sensation—part pleasure, part pain—radiating throughmy core. I scream, the sound echoing through the chamber as he claims me with deliberate slowness.

He stops with only the head inside, letting me feel every spiral ridge as my body struggles to accommodate the invasion. The burning stretch is overwhelming, my muscles locked rigid with shock and discomfort.

"Relax," he growls, though it sounds more like a threat than advice. "Fighting only makes it worse."

Easy for him to say. My medical training tells me he's right—tension increases trauma—but my body won't cooperate. Every instinct screams to escape the invasion, to protect myself from further damage.

His tail moves to flick against my clit again, the unexpected stimulation sending sparks of pleasure through the pain. The dual sensation—stretching discomfort within, electric pleasure without—confuses my nervous system, creating responses I can't predict or control.

"There," he says as my muscles begin to relax incrementally. "Your body knows how to take me."

He pushes deeper with agonizing slowness, each inch bringing new awareness of his size and alien configuration. The position leaves me blind to his intentions—I can only feel him claiming me from behind, mounting me like the animal he is. The ridges catch on internal tissues, creating friction that borders on overwhelming. When he hits a particularly sensitive spot deep inside, white-hot pleasure jolts through my system, dragging a cry from my lips that's pure omega surrender.

"Found it," he purrs, angling his thrusts to hit that spot repeatedly. "Your omega sweet spot. The place that makes you forget everything except how good it feels to be claimed."

His secondary organ, which I'd almost forgotten in the overwhelming sensation of penetration, suddenly presses against my clit. Unlike his tail, this appendage feels wet, warm,alive in ways that defy description. When it attaches—there's no other word for it—the suction is gentle at first, then increasingly insistent.

The dual sensation—his ridged cock stroking my inner walls while the specialized organ sucks rhythmically at my clit—creates pleasure circuits my brain can't process. It's like being touched inside and out simultaneously, every nerve ending firing in patterns evolution never intended.

"This is what Chimeric claiming feels like," he explains, voice rough with his own pleasure as he establishes a rhythm that drives me toward madness. "Everything humans can't give you."

I want to deny it, to resist the building pressure, but my body has its own agenda. Each thrust seats him deeper, my arousal easing his passage while my muscles gradually adapt to his impossible size. The pleasure builds despite my mental resistance, some primal part of my brain recognizing perfect anatomical compatibility.

"Such a good omega," he praises, the words sending another flood of treacherous satisfaction through my system. "Taking my cock so perfectly. Made for Chimeric claiming."

His rhythm intensifies, driving deeper with each thrust until I feel the swelling at his base pressing against my entrance. The knot—still unformed but promising further invasion, further claiming, further proof of my complete submission to his will.

The suction organ increases its pressure against my clit, the rhythmic pulling synchronized with his thrusts. Pleasure builds in layers—deep internal stimulation from his ridged shaft, surface friction from the knot teasing my entrance, concentrated intensity from the mouth-like organ working my most sensitive flesh.

"Going to knot you now," he warns, though it sounds more like a promise than a threat. "Going to lock my seed inside you where it belongs."

When his knot begins to swell in earnest, panic cuts through the building pleasure. The pressure at my entrance increases exponentially, stretching tissues past their limits. "Wait," I gasp, my fingers clawing at the furs beneath me. "It's too big. You'll split me open."

"Your body was designed for this," he insists, the growing bulb catching at my entrance with each thrust. "Omega biology evolved to take alpha knots, no matter the size."

The logic means nothing when faced with the reality of his anatomy forcing its way inside me. Each attempt to seat the knot brings fresh stretching, fresh pressure, fresh proof that my body has limits his biology doesn't respect.

His tail wraps around my thigh from behind, holding me in position as he forces the issue with single-minded determination. The restraint emphasizes my complete helplessness—pinned beneath his weight, unable to escape or even see what's coming next. The suction organ increases its pull on my clit, flooding my system with endorphins that combat the discomfort of being stretched beyond belief.

With a final, brutal thrust, the widest part of his knot pops past my entrance. The sudden relief of pressure gives way to a feeling of impossible fullness as the swollen tissue settles inside me, stretching my inner walls in directions I didn't know were possible.

"Perfect," he growls, grinding against me from behind to ensure complete seating. The position leaves me utterly helpless—unable to see his face, unable to predict his movements, completely at his mercy as he mounts me like the predator he is. "My knot locked inside my omega. Where it belongs."