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I feel the blunt head of his cock press against my entrance, impossibly large against my human anatomy despite the copious slick my body has produced. Fear flashes through the haze of need—he's too big, it won't fit, I'll be torn apart—but the omega biology drowns rational thought beneath waves of submission.

"Alpha," I gasp, the word half-plea, half-prayer. "Need your knot. Please..."

A shudder runs through his massive frame, control visibly slipping further at my desperate begging. "You'll have it," he promises, voice dropping to a register so deep it vibrates through my bones. "Every inch. Every barb. Every drop."

He enters me with one powerful thrust that tears a scream from my throat—pain and pleasure so intertwined I can't separate them. The stretch is beyond anything I've experienced, beyond what should be physically possible, my body forced to accommodate his inhuman size in seconds rather than the gradual adaptation it needs.

As he seats himself fully inside me, I feel the specialized ridges along his length begin to extend, transforming into the barbs that give feline alphas their distinctive anatomy. What begins as uncomfortable fullness shifts into something else entirely as those barbs press against nerve endings I never knew existed, sending confused signals of pleasure-pain that short-circuit rational thought.

"So tight," Fritz growls against my ear, his chest pressed against my back, fur abrading my sensitive skin in ways that heighten every sensation. "So perfect for my cock, little omega."

He begins to move with measured thrusts, each withdrawal dragging those barbs against my inner walls in ways that pull broken sounds from my throat. The initial pain recedes with shocking speed, my omega biology adapting to his impossible size with eagerness that should shame me. Instead, I find myself pushing back against him, seeking more, deeper, harder.

"That's it," he rumbles approvingly as my body responds to his claiming. "Take what you need. Take what you're made for."

His tail tightens around my thigh as his rhythm intensifies, the fur-covered muscle providing additional control of our joining. His inhuman flexibility allows him to curve over me completely, maintaining the grip in my hair while his other hand slides beneath to find my swollen, aching center.

When his fingers apply pressure to the bundle of nerves there, I nearly collapse, only his powerful grip keeping me in the presenting position. Pleasure cascades through me, made more intense by the continuous drag of barbed length against my inner walls, the fullness that satisfies the emptiness that's tortured me for days.

"Alpha," I sob, the word now a mantra, a surrender. "Your cock... your barbs... I need everything. Please."

The shame burns through me even as the words tumble out. I'm begging for the very things I swore I'd never want, things I convinced myself were inferior to dragon claiming. The admission breaks something in him. His control shatters completely, thrusts becoming harder, deeper, more primal. His growl transforms into something ancient and terrifying, the sound of apex predator claiming mate. The hand at my center moves back to my hip, grip tightening to the edge of pain ashe pounds into me with force that would damage a human who wasn't in full heat adaptation.

"Mine," he snarls against my neck, the word barely recognizable through the rumbling growl. "Mine to claim. Mine to knot. Mine to breed."

The possessive declarations shouldn't affect me as they do, shouldn't send fresh waves of slick to ease his increasingly forceful thrusts. I should hate this claiming, hate this alpha, hate the way my body responds so eagerly to his domination. Instead, I find myself meeting each thrust, my channel clenching around his barbed length in greedy welcome, omega biology triumphing completely over rational thought.

I feel it then—the growing pressure at my entrance as the base of his cock begins to swell further, the specialized knot designed to lock us together during seed delivery. Panic flares through the pleasure-haze—it's already so big, how can I possibly take more?—but my body responds with eager anticipation, inner muscles relaxing to welcome the fullness my heat has demanded for days.

"Your knot," I gasp, the words barely coherent through panting breaths. "Give me your knot, alpha. Give me those barbs. Fill me with feline seed." The desperation in my voice disgusts me, but I can't stop. "Need it all. Need it so bad."

"You'll take it all," he growls, the words hot against my ear. "Every inch. You were made for this, omega. Made to take my knot."

Each thrust now drives the swelling knot against my entrance, stretching me incrementally wider with each pass. The pressure borders on pain before something gives way, my body surrendering completely to the invasion. With one final, powerful thrust, the knot pushes past resistance, slipping inside before expanding fully, locking us together completely.

The fullness is indescribable—pressure against places inside me I never knew existed, the barbs fully extended now, the knot pressing against every sensitive spot simultaneously. It triggers something primal in my omega biology, a cascade of pleasure so intense it borders on pain, wave after wave crashing through me as my inner muscles contract rhythmically around the invasion.

My orgasm hits with devastating force, ripping a scream from my throat as my body convulses around his locked length. Inner walls clamp down on the barbed intrusion, the pressure of the knot against sensitive spots prolonging the pleasure beyond anything I've experienced, beyond what should be humanly possible to endure.

Fritz's control breaks completely as my inner muscles milk his length. His growl becomes something feral and ancient, his body curving over mine possessively as his release begins. Hot seed floods my womb in powerful jets, each new surge accompanied by a thrust that drives his knot impossibly deeper. The barbs extend fully, ensuring not a drop escapes, the evolutionary mechanism designed to guarantee breeding success performing its function perfectly.

The sensation of being filled so completely, so thoroughly, satisfies the desperate emptiness that's tortured me for days. The biological imperative that drove me to madness finally quiets, replaced by a floating contentment that feels alien after so much desperate need. His seed continues pumping into me in rhythmic pulses, each new surge triggering aftershocks of pleasure that make me whimper and clench around him, which in turn pulls more seed from his seemingly endless supply.

We remain locked together, joined in the most intimate way possible while being emotionally worlds apart. Fritz's weight presses me into the pallet, his fur-covered chest against my back creating strange friction against my sweat-slick skin. His breathing gradually slows from the ragged panting of rut tosomething more controlled, though his heart still pounds hard enough that I can feel it against my back.

When he finally speaks, his voice has partially returned to its usual register, though the rumbling growl still underlies each word. "The knot will subside in approximately twenty minutes," he murmurs, his breath hot against my neck. "Your heat should provide temporary relief after claiming."

He shifts slightly, adjusting our locked bodies to a more comfortable position on our sides, his massive form curled around mine. The movement causes his still-barbed length to drag against oversensitive tissue, pulling a whimper from my throat. The knot presses against different spots in this position, sending renewed pleasure rippling through my exhausted body.

"So responsive," he observes, a note of satisfaction entering his voice as he feels my involuntary reaction. "Your body adapts well to feline anatomy."

Too well. Shame floods through me as I realize how completely my body has surrendered to what my mind spent years rejecting. The barbs that should have been painful now create pleasure beyond anything I imagined possible. The knot that should have been too large fits perfectly, satisfying the emptiness that's tortured me. The seed pumping into my womb feels right in ways I don't want to examine too closely.

"It hurts less than I expected," I admit reluctantly, voice hoarse from screaming.

His chest rumbles against my back, almost like a purr. "Omega biology adapts to claiming alpha. Each subsequent joining will be easier, more pleasurable as your body fully accommodates mine."

Subsequent joining. The words hang between us, reminder that this is merely the first of many such encounters my heat will demand. Not a single humiliation to be endured, but a series ofbiological submissions that will imprint his scent, his touch, his claiming on my body in ways that can never be undone.