Page 16 of His Incubus Husband

One after another, the alphas licked him, and he let his slick flow freely. His scent and taste would make them yearn even more than his innocent face and impeccable ass.

The auction was a loud affair. Big Bobby would be opening a bottle of champagne later tonight because the first fuck went for two thousand three hundred bucks.

The alpha who’d won had a slender but long dick. He reamed Tino’s hole without caring for Tino’s pleasure, taking what he could for his money. Tino got glimpses of his mind during the frenzied final minute—memories of a young rent boy kneeling on the back seat of a car, his hole stained with cum, ass cheeks covered with red finger marks…

The alpha came on a roar, and the crowd erupted in cheers.

Big Bobby lowered the bench for the next patron.

Another dick. Fatter but shorter.

One more. Next. And next.

Tino grunted and moaned. His hole squelched with the abundance of cum. This patron was even rougher, digging his fingers into Tino’s thighs. He fucked like a machine, wet skin slapping, his firm cockhead sawing in and out. The alphas hollered and applauded when Tino came, his cum splattering on the concrete floor under the bench.

It wasn’t enough.

Tino let go of his restraint. He didn’t play coy or pretend to be sore or tired. He mewled and whined and writhed in the restraints, eagerly taking dick after dick, load after load.

When the fifth alpha pulled out, Tino’s asshole remained loose and open, and creamy liquid oozed out of it.

Splat.

He needed more, dammit. He needed the cum to stay in.

“Look at that.”

Fingers dove into his fucked-out hole, burrowing inside. Three? Four?

“Fist him!”

“Fist! Fist! Fist!” the crowd chanted.

“I got something even better,” Big Bobby yelled over the noise.

With how loose he was, Tino barely felt the bud of the womb wand gliding into his hole. The change of atmosphere in the room was palpable, though.

Suddenly, even the rowdiest patrons seemed to be holding their breath.

Big Bobby did as Tino had told him. The bud pushed into the closed gate of Tino’s womb, and the pressure increased. The tip felt like a knife in the sensitive bundle of nerves.

Tino keened, his voice echoing in the quiet room.

The pressure kept increasing. The pain made Tino’s frail human body shake.

Deeper. Deeper. The bud was squashing his womb and not getting in. The closed mouth was stuck on the tip, resisting.

Tino couldn’t change forms and accept the toy into his body that way. His demonic womb was always eager to be bred, but to appear human, he needed to do this the hard way.

As Tino’s screams got louder, some alphas in the crowd grew worried. Their arousal abated, and they inched away.

But some came closer, entranced by the spectacle of this omega having his womb pried open outside of heat.

Tino found their minds in the crowd, and he slurped up their desire like a sweet cocktail from between tasteless ice cubes.

The wand kept inching deeper.

His body stiffened, his hole clenched, and one last flare of anguish forced a cry from his sore throat.