Chapter Text
When the sunrise breaks through the delicate strips of cloud and slips pale and soft through the flaps of their round tent, Kuya is already awake.
In fact, the omega has been awake, having slept only a few restless hours, tossing and turning in their bed. Now, they lay listless, gazing at the dust-blue sky through their tent’s high smoke hole, fingers brushing over the soft furs covering their bed. Slowly, they press their face into the thick, plush pad of their mattress, caught between hoping exhaustion will finally pull them under and knowing that they need to get out of bed.
It takes another twenty minutes of sitting up and falling back against the embroidered and thickly furred cushions before Kuya can muster enough energy to get out of bed and shuffle over to the round stove sitting at the center of the tent, lifting the lid off a pot of cold, half-eaten stew on swallowing down a few mouthfuls.
For several long moments, they huddle beside the stove, feeling grimy with their oily hair and greasy skin, still dressed in the wrinkled, now slightly stinking robe they put on days ago. The pit of self-disgust isn’t enough to force them to leave their own tent to wash up in the public baths, especially with the shame of their unkempt appearance weighing them down. Instead, they fiddle their dark hair into long braids, hiding their scalp beneath a thick hat, and scrub halfheartedly at their face with cold water from their water barrel before shuffling outside into the cool morning air.
The mobile city of Elsingerel is radiant even in the pale dawn light, a sea of circular tents—gers—in varying sizes radiating outward in a broad arc across the hilly plains. The early morning sun casts the white walls of each ger in color, soft orange glow bleeding into blue shadow, a stark contrast to the iridescent, intricately-carved wood wheel stretched across each ger's smoke hole. Kuya’s small ger is nestled on the broad slope of a hill, buried between larger family tents; they weave around them, slipping behind laundry lines and gers to avoid catching the gazes of fellow early risers gathering water and wood for morning meals.
The nearest medicine tent already has its tent doors parted, splitting the gleaming swallowtail butterfly design neatly in two, and Kuya ducks beneath the wings, stepping into the warm tent.
Inside, bright light illuminates the space, broad walls lined with countless sealed tins. The thick, herbal scent of medicine lingers in the air, seeping into the stacks of cushions and low tea tables that frame the large apothecary kitchen at the center of the tent.
A lone omega leans over a huge mortar, humming to themselves as they grind their pestle with firm twists of their wrists. Their deep purple curls are pulled back from their brow, bleeding into pink at the ends and flaming gold at the tips; Kuya resists the urge to hide the way the teal of their own hair tips have turned dull with oil and dirt.
The other omega looks up and grins, abandoning the pestle to veer over to Kuya’s side and squeeze the other omega’s hands. “Kuya! Wow, you’re here so early!”
Kuya smiles, trying to force it to reach their eyes. “Morning, Oyin. You wouldn’t happen to have my medicine ready for me yet, would you?”
Oyin hums, two hands coming up to squish Kuya’s cheeks. “You didn’t get much sleep last night, huh?”
“I slept a bit.”
“Uh huh.” Oyin tugs their friend over to the stack of guest cushions, plopping Kuya down on one. “Stay here. I have your medicine, and this time, I have this new sedative blend I think could really help with the insomnia!”
The other omega chatters excitedly about the new tincture they’d developed from swapping recipes with a merchant from the Southern Isles, and Kuya nods along, watching their friend twitter about and accepting the sedative gratefully.
Oyin is brushing their hands against their apron firmly when there’s a noise at the tent entrance, and the omega brightens. “Oh! That must be Mogi. I’ll get you your antidepressants in just a second, but I’d like you to meet him.”
“Ah—Oyin…” Kuya sighs. “I really don’t have much energy this morning—”
But Oyin is already bustling out of the ger, humming brightly to themselves, and Kuya trails off with an exasperated but fond huff.
It’s not that Kuya doesn’t appreciate their friend’s happy-go-lucky attitude. On the contrary, even now, mired in the tired, heavy weight of exhaustion, Oyin can still bring a smile to Kuya’s face. Kuya has struggled with depression for years, but through it all, Oyin has popped into their ger to bring them to therapy and then cook Kuya dinner after, helped pick up the scattered mess of belongings and trash that builds up in their tent, has even lured their friend to the communal baths to gently wipe them clean and brush their teeth even as Kuya tried to curl up and cry in self-disgust. It’s Oyin, and friends like them, that remind Kuya that they deserve to be loved, no matter how hard it can be to remember that in the midnight hours when Kuya can’t sleep.
Rather, it’s because of Oyin’s excitable, hopeful air that makes Kuya’s stomach twinge with guilt; whoever this Mogi is that Oyin wants them to meet, Kuya simply does not have the energy to be friendly to them. There’s nothing pleasant about the idea of watching Oyin’s smile dim slightly as Kuya fails to even work up the effort to make a new friend, and even though Oyin would simply brush off the failure and keep trying, the shame of the inevitable failure stings.
It’s then, as Kuya is steeling themselves for that disappointment, that they’re knocked back to the ground with a yelp as a great black wolf practically teleports into their lap.
To many humans, being knocked to the ground by a large wolf would be a terrifying experience. But Kuya belongs to one of the many tribes of Elsingerel that live alongside the Gerdenian Wolves—wolves that dwarf their cousins in both size and sapience, whose family packs live as equals alongside many tribes that make their home on the Ulten Plains.
There is nothing unusual about wolves with semi-translucent fur the color of gemstones, nothing odd about wolves with glistening mineral deposits embedded in their brows, nothing out-of-place about speaking to a huge, peridot-green wolf about dinner or the weather or the latest political debacle between Tribe Elders. To Kuya, a Gerdenian Wolf is a fellow tribe member, a companion, a peer to have a normal, small-talk conversation with at dinner.
Of course, many travelers who haven’t encountered telepathic beings, let alone giant telepathic canines, feel differently. For example, one Iphidrian documented their apparently mind-boggling experience at an evening bonfire in the mobile city Ulmirel, describing their conversation with a giant red wolf about the political impact of current events.
Much to the surprise of the people of Ulmirel, the account had been widely disseminated across the continent, resulting in a steady stream of fascinated tourists visiting the city even after a few decades passed. And in all fairness, while there’s nothing mystical about a Gerdenian Wolf or its telepathic abilities, Kuya can definitely understand why one would at least find them overwhelming.
Case in point: Kuya splutters as the wolf, which easily dwarfs Kuya from where they’re seated, immediately starts snuffling happily at the omega’s face, floppy tongue coming out to lap over their cheek.
Friend! Hello, friend!
Kuya grunts as the wolf’s voice barrels into their head at top speed, still wheezing slightly from the breath being knocked out of their lungs.
“Whoa, Mogi, chill out,” Oyin laughs, and Mogi backs off just enough to dance in place, paws tip-tapping on the ground with excitement. “Kuya, you remember Mogi, right? My old friend from Uluunmerel?”
“Hello, Mogi,” Kuya wheezes. “It’s been a while.”
Hello! Hello! I am so happy to see you. The wolf looms over Kuya with a pleased huff. I have moved back to Elsingerel and I am very excited to work.
Yeah, he’s definitely from Uluunmerel, Kuya thinks dazedly. Unlike Elsingerel, a centralized mobile city mostly made up of humans and hybrids, Uluunmerel is a mobile city farther to the north and largely remote. Uluunmerel has a vastly diverse populace and a human population of less than 40%, with the tallmen demographic not even a quarter of that. As a result, the cultural norms of the two cities differ quite a bit.
For example, wolves of Elsingerel often telepathically mimic the speaking styles of whatever non-wolf they speak to. Kuya once witnessed a wolf speaking quite formally and eloquently to an Orc coworker, matching Orcish’s poetic and flowery language, and then immediately turn to the coworker’s Elf partner and mimic the dry, simple, and sarcastic wit common in many Elven dialects.
In contrast, the telepathic population of Uluunmerel had taken the opposite approach, and most wolves there spoke in simple, easily comprehensible terms and were more physically expressive, keeping their telepathic messages accessible and comprehensible to the non-telepathic majority. Where a wolf of Elsingerel tended to remain a bit stiff in a first meeting and only engage in polite sniffs, a wolf of Uluunmerel would see no issue with nose-diving into a complete stranger’s torso or excitedly licking an old acquaintance’s face.
As it is, Mogi is clearly restraining himself from leaping back onto Kuya, but only just so. I want to be your new aide!
“Oh my,” Kuya says faintly.
“Remember how you mentioned struggling to find a sleep aide?” Oyin grins, looming over the pair. “Mogi’s a new aide who just completed his residency and got dual-certified.”
Top of my class in Neuropsychiatry and Social Work, Mogi says, wagging his tail proudly. I am very smart.
Kuya hums lowly, impressed. There are countless roles within a tribal city, but Aides are among the most demanding of positions; they handle long-term care and development of communities and individuals, and specialize in everything from general administration to public infrastructure planning to legal practice. Choosing even a single specialty meant intensive, constant study and perpetual advancement and re-training.
“Congratulations,” Kuya tells Mogi politely, who finally sits beside Kuya, gazing down at them with bright black eyes. “Two graduate-level degrees at once is very impressive.”
Yes! Mogi’s tail swishes back and forth with increasing excitement. I am also trained in cognitive behavioral therapy and deep pressure therapy and bio-anomaly detection and psychosomatic testing and—
“So a lot of training,” Oyin interrupts, amused. “It’s true Mogi’s specialties align pretty closely with what you’re looking for, but he is still pretty fresh—it’s okay if you want to keep looking.”
I would like to help, Mogi says helpfully. But only if you want me to. Do you want me to help?
Kuya gnaws on their lip. The thing is, Kuya has spent the past few months trying to find an aide who meets their needs. The omega had gone through weeks and weeks of trying to seek out aides, but the few aides who had seemed interested had either ended up choosing other positions or simply stopped responding entirely, no matter how much Kuya increased the compensatory pay and benefits.
At this point, Kuya was getting desperate; they needed someone, anyone to help them sleep, and at this point, continuing without help was simply infeasible.
As Kuya deliberates, Mogi whines, his fluffy ears turning down. He gazes up at Kuya with huge, watery black eyes that glisten like the obsidian stone in his brow, and Kuya can’t help but melt a little.
“Sure, why not? We can at least test it out.”
“And no hard feelings if it’s not the right fit,” Oyin pipes up. “You’ll both still be my friends regardless of if it works out.”
Yes! Mogi noses up against Kuya’s cheek with a happy bark, back end wiggling happily, and Kuya can’t help but chuckle.
The wolf lets out a gentle boof and flops to the ground, letting his head fall on their lap and gazing up at Kuya with huge dark eyes. Unbidden, one of Kuya’s hands comes up to pet Mogi’s head, running their fingers through his soft fur, and the wolf leans into the gesture, tail thumping against the ground.
There’s a slight crunch from the apothecary kitchen, and Oyin curses, then sighs, and the pair looks up at them blinking, almost dazed. “Sorry to interrupt—my pestle just splintered a bit. I gotta go grab a spare from one of the other medical tents.”
I can get it, Mogi says cheerfully, already leaping up and racing out of the tent before Oyin can even finish calling him back.
“Wow,” Kuya says.
Oyin laughs. “Yeah, he’s just as much a hurricane as the first time you met him, huh? Oh, but I promise, he really locks in and gets serious when he works.”
“Oh. I meant—never mind.”
Oyin cocks their head. “Hm?” Their eyes narrow as they watch Kuya’s cheeks darken slightly, and then they grin. “Ohhh, I see. I just thought he’d be a good personality fit for you as a sleep aide, but yeah, he’s kinda exactly your type, isn’t he?”
Kuya winces. It’s true, Mogi is a very pretty wolf; his lustrous fur is dark as pitch, dark eyes huge and glimmering. He’s clearly well-suited to the current fashion trends among wolves in Elsingerel, with his fur kept long and fluffy, claws neatly manicured and blunted, and his mineral patch buffed to a high shine.
Worse, the wolf smells good; something soft and warm, like sun-warmed blankets left out to air or the warm earth beneath the wild grass in the summer. It fits a bit too well with Kuya’s smoky, musky scent, which generally means the pair is a bit too physically compatible to be a wise medical choice for something as intimate as sleep therapy. Still…
“I can be professional,” Kuya says firmly. They give Oyin a weak, tired smile. “I need an aide right now more than I need a Mate.”
Oyin lifts their hands, still grinning. “Whatever you need, my dear friend. And hey, maybe it won’t work out and you’ll need to find a different aide. No harm in shooting your shot then, right?”
Kuya groans. “Please stop.”
“Kidding, kidding! Professional ethics, and all that.” They pause. “I mean, Uluunmerel’s pretty different from here, culturally and ethically speaking, so maybe—”
“Oyin.”
The first night that Mogi goes home with Kuya is the not the first time the wolf witnesses the mysteries of tallman biology, but it is the first time he’s a direct participant.
Like many wolves, Mogi doesn’t really get the whole “secondary gender dynamics” humans have. Wolves just live in familial social packs, usually including Elders in charge and many siblings; they have no post-puberty secondary sexual characteristics like that of “alphas” or “omegas”. Wolves may have Cycles the same way many humans do, but functionally, the only point in differentiating between the wolves that can and can’t carry pups is when a wolf wants pups of their own.
Frankly, the primary gender roles performed by most humans made even less sense. Like many wolves, he only chose masculine pronouns because the shape of the characters in the Common tongue looks very much like a wolf, not because he understands “masculinity”. If anything, the closest thing to a gender Mogi understands is “aide”.
Even so, Mogi knows that tallmen in particular have some strange, very carnal needs that differentiate even from other kinds of humans like elves, dwarves, gnomes, or orcs. For example, human cycles involve heats, times that come every few months that make humans emotionally volatile and somewhat ill and incredibly fertile. Tallmen in particular, however, are particularly instinctive and incoherent—nothing like a Wolf cycle that mostly just makes one’s genitals uncomfortable and a bit more fertile.
In his time as a prospective aide, Mogi has occasionally come across unwell tallmen, ones that totter out of their dens with glassy eyes and wetness dripping from their thighs, whining and calling out for help. Most of the time, these people are immediately surrounded by packmates who croon and usher the poor tallman back into their dens to be washed and pampered and fed.
More rarely, some of the packmates will take care of them right then and there, and Mogi has witnessed these unwell tallmen melt with relief as they’re mated—some humping their knots up into the holes of a sweetly crooning companion, some arching their backs as a knot is stuffed up one of their holes. Mogi has even witnessed one rampaging Alpha made docile and sleepy on the knot of a city guard, rut-rage calmed by the bulging knot stuffing his asshole.
Mogi’s still not entirely sure how the whole Bitching process works, but understands the basics from an elementary level: maintaining a penile knot in a human’s vaginal tract for greater than twenty minutes results in an alpha becoming a beta and then an omega, a process referred to colloquially as “Bitching”. In contrast, a penile knot in the rectum for the same period results in the reverse, or Studding.
Additionally, a knot of at least a certain width in either hole for longer than half an hour can cause a permanently altered mental state, often referred to as being Broken. The risk is also present with multiple, sequential knotting sessions without adequate breaks. And for tallmen, feral as they are during their cycles, are particularly susceptible to being Broken.
Still, human knots (when they have them) last ten minutes at most and are rarely large enough to trigger a fragile mental state. Bitching and Breaking are mainly only an issue for intercultural relationships where at least one partner is a tallman, and the other has either a knot or the ability to mimic one.
How the endocrinological and physical shift occurs, especially with such speed and minimal injury, is somewhat incomprehensible to Mogi. Frankly, his Human Sexual Health classes were a lot harder for him than, say, his molecular biology or political science courses. The courses also hadn’t gone much into detail since tallman, orc, dwarf, gnome, and elf biology were similar enough, and only focused on the more unique characteristics of each type of human, like the extreme elasticity of elf vaginas, the malleable erectile flesh of a gnome, and the columnar genitalia of an orc.
On top of that, he simply hasn’t spent much time around many humans, given how few lived in Uluunmerel; Oyin was one of his only tallman friends, and he’d spent most of his last few years in residency and living in the dorms designed specifically for quadrupeds. There simply weren’t many opportunities to even witness a human in the middle of their estrus cycle.
Still, like many species, Gerdenian wolves are compatible enough with humans to Mate, which means they’re also compatible enough to detect and understand differences in their scents, so Mogi does know an unhappy “omega” human when he smells one. From the moment Mogi took in Kuya’s scent earlier that day, he could tell a few key things: that Kuya had not bathed in an extensive period, that Kuya is clinically depressed and insomniatic, and that Kuya is just as attractive to him as they’d been when they first met.
(Well, okay. That last part isn’t just about scent, even if their scents are quite compatible. But Mogi digresses.)
So that night, when Mogi is about to drift to sleep in his bed beside Kuya’s and he hears the omega toss and turn fitfully in their sleep, he knows he has to do his best to help Kuya be happier.
Quickly and quietly, the wolf trots nimbly over to Kuya’s bed, trying not to disturb the sleeping omega. Even after taking the sedative medicine Oyin provided the courier earlier, Kuya clearly is still struggling to rest peacefully through the night; in slumber, their whole body is tense, brow scrunched as they toss and turn.
At first, he tries resting at Kuya’s side, nosing up beside them and under their arm. It works, but only for a little while, Kuya unconsciously snuggling into Mogi’s dark fur and relaxing for a time before growing restless and flipping away.
When that doesn’t work, Mogi tries settling carefully on the omega’s torso to serve as a makeshift weighted blanket, carefully holding himself so as not to crush the the small human’s lungs and impede their breathing.
When the omega whines pitifully underneath him, thrashing about, he tries to coax them awake from a potential nightmare, but finds he can’t wake the poor human for more than a few scant moments, only getting a few dazed, sleepy pats before the omega falls back into a restless sleep.
Mogi huffs in frustration, gently tugging away Kuya’s blankets and snuffling up and down their slumbering form. His nose tells him there’s nothing wrong with their circulation or breathing, and they haven’t wounded themselves somehow. There’s no signs of serious conditions like cancerous cell growth or infection or organ failure, no interruptions in any of their body systems. They don’t even have sleep apnea. Even the parts of their brain affected by their depression are functioning normally in sleep. The only place where heat seems to be collecting is—
Mogi startles as Kuya whines below him, their hips twitching up slightly as his nose brushes over the apex of their thighs.
Oh, of course, Mogi thinks, huffing. Kuya is clearly sexually frustrated, and must need to be relieved in order to Settle, just like the cycling tallmen he’s seen in the past.
Huffing decisively, Mogi takes Kuya’s sleepwear carefully in his mouth and nudges it up their torso, baring their legs and belly and revealing their undergarments. Like this, Kuya’s unhappy scent is even stronger, and Mogi whines quietly, wet nose snuffling against their crotch.
What were all the important parts of tallman biology, again? Mogi wonders, gently nudging Kuya’s thighs apart just enough to settle between them a bit more comfortably. He laps over their underwear, snuffling into the bright, tangy-sweet smell hidden beneath it. All tallmen have a penis, a vagina, a rectum, and—
Kuya’s brow furrows slightly, inner thighs tensing as Mogi noses over the second, smaller nub nestled right at the top of their vulva, poking slightly through their underwear, and Mogi hones in on the spot. Found it.
Beneath his wide, floppy tongue, the little nub seems to twitch with each long, slow swipe, and Mogi laps a little faster, digging his tongue in just hard enough to make Kuya jolt.
Slowly, Kuya’s underwear grows soaked beneath his mouth, plush folds growing swollen and hot, cock straining against the fabric, clit hard and pulsing against Mogi’s floppy tongue.
Careful not to wake the still-sleeping omega, Mogi gently grasps the fabric of their undergarments with his teeth, tugging it to the side for easier access.
Mogi wriggles closer happily, letting his broad tongue split open their folds directly and dip inside briefly before gliding over their clit and the leaking tip of their cocklet, enjoying how the omega jerks and tilts their hips into the slow gesture. The bright, sweet tang of slick seeps from their cunt only for Mogi to swallow it down hungrily and drag his tongue from the base of their cock to the wrinkled folds of their cunt, growling lowly as Kuya’s soft, sleepy breaths begin to hitch into quiet moans.
He lowers his head, pushing his wet nose against the underside of their cocklet, floppy tongue lolling out to roll over the plush folds of Kuya’s cunt again. This spot, right here, is Mogi’s new favorite place in the whole world—situated with his nose pushed up against his pretty friend’s sweet, leaking cocklet, and his maw right above their wet little hole that clenches as he drags his tongue slowly over their twitching clit, cunt pulsing as it begs for a knot.
He targets the nub with renewed intensity, ears pricked as he listens to Kuya’s breaths slip from frustrated and unhappy to hitched and trembling, hips tensing as they unconsciously arch against his maw. Beneath him, his own cock starts to push from his sheath, and he ruts against the bed to relieve the pressure.
Suddenly, Kuya stiffens, thighs shaking as the omega gushes against Mogi’s warm tongue. The omega’s scent, musky and smoky, blooms in the air, thick and heady with bliss. It makes Mogi’s head a bit fuzzy, and he laps up the gush of fluid, earning a few slight twitches as he cleans up Kuya’s messy, twitchy little pussy, before diving back in with fervor, shoving his tongue deeper into the hole.
Below him, the omega squirms a bit in their sleep, eyebrows drawing together, shaky breaths shifting into anxious whines. Their legs twitch around his ears, trying to close in an unconscious attempt to escape the pleasure, but Mogi doesn’t notice; he simply hones in on stretching their hole open on his floppy tongue, growling softly at the slick that gushes from their pussy.
Mogi pushes in deeper, snout jammed firmly over the plush of Kuya’s folds. His cool, wet nose digs into the base of the omega’s cocklet, and Kuya’s hips shudder, hole pulsing around the wolf’s tongue.
Kuya’s second orgasm comes even quicker than the first when Mogi’s sharp teeth accidentally scrape lightly over their clit; the omega squirts right into his panting mouth and then collapses back onto their bed, cunt swollen as they whimper in exhausted bliss. Still, the omega whines and arches their hips up after Mogi pulls away, lower lip jutting out unconsciously in a pout as fresh slick seeps down and soaks the bed.
It’s fine. Mogi’s a good aide and knows exactly what to do.
Carefully, he nudges Kuya’s legs up, enough to settle over them gently so their thighs fold firmly against their chest, calves resting comfortably against his flanks. It’s not entirely comfortable—Mogi’s not a big wolf, but Kuya’s not a particularly big human, and the size difference is especially clear now, where his only option is to thrust downward into them. It’d be much easier if the omega was on their hands and knees, but this is the best way to satisfy them without waking the poor thing up.
Like this, the wolf’s hardening cock flops against Kuya’s hole, and he rolls his hips experimentally, cock sliding over their slick folds, spreading them apart. He grinds his deep red cock against their swollen cunt, half-drunk on the scent of Kuya’s cunt staining his fur. The omega jerks every time he grinds his cock against their puffy slit, clit and cock twitching against his shaft, almost kissing it.
Mogi ruts firmly against their cunt until the omega comes again with a grunt, the wolf growling softly as the omega humps against his cock with a sweet, fucked-out expression, their eyes still firmly shut.
Pulling back slightly, he notches the tip of his cock against Kuya’s cunt, feeling it flutter around the head as if to suck it inside. Ever so gently, he rocks in, letting his cock spread their hole open slowly, trying not to thrust inside all at once. It’s so, so hard not to—beneath him, Kuya is whimpering, feet twitching at his sides as he pushes in, cunt squeezing up frantically around him as he slides in deeper and deeper.
When he finally bottoms out, he has to very firmly freeze up instead of pulling back out and thrusting in harder, which he finds is incredibly difficult to do, especially with Kuya’s cunt gushing slick around him and squeezing petulantly up his shaft, begging him to knot. The tip of his cock has popped past something not unlike a ring of muscle and nudged against something round and firm—that’s Kuya’s anterior fornix, and that’s Kuya’s cervix, he thinks, pleased with himself for remembering the terms. He’s learned so much about human anatomy firsthand.
He’s doing his best to be a good aide, he’ll be so careful not to wake his Kuya up—just gentle, rocking motions to grind his cock up against all the best spots. He really, really wants to go fast and hard, make their pretty pussy all messy and swollen, and force them to squirt on his knot while he cums directly into their womb, but he’s going to be the best aide ever, and the best aides don’t wake up their sweet, pretty friend just because they want to unequivocally breed them.
Instead, he only rolls his hips forward gently, just enough to rub his soft belly fur against the cocklet leaking against Kuya’s stomach. As his knot grows, he grinds the thick bulge of it against their g-spot, and keeps the tip of his cock pressed firmly against the roof of their cunt, nestled right near their cervix.
Beneath him, Kuya wriggles, still locked in sedative-laced sleep even as they whine softly, thighs trembling as Mogi grinds his cock into them in gentle, unending circles. They tense up slightly as he continues to rock inside, unconsciously arching their hips into his thrusts.
Mogi grows lowly as his knot finally blossoms to full size, and beneath him, Kuya whines, eyes moving beneath their eyelids as their cunt locks up around his knot, milking it frantically.
Oh, it’s so hard not to just shove the tip of his cock hard into the entrance to their womb and bully their sweet spot with his knot until they squirt, but Mogi keeps his pace steady, rocking his knot inside in gentle circles, drawing out his pretty friend’s orgasm from a single, sharp peak into a smooth, endless wave.
When his knot goes down, he pulls out gently and sniffs over them, carefully inspecting their body; while Mogi doesn't knot for long enough to Break a tallman, his knot is still big enough to pose the risk. Also, he certainly knots long enough to Bitch a tallman, and he’s not sure Kuya would be pleased to suddenly change secondary genders.
Luckily, Kuya is already an omega, and, finding no anomalies, he moves down again to clean up his mess of creamy spend as it seeps from Kuya’s twitching hole. When Kuya’s limp form doesn’t even twitch at the stimulation, he huffs to himself, pleased.
There we go, nice and relaxed.
Mogi can already feel his cock starting to reharden, but his job is to relieve his Kuya, not enjoy their sweet little cunt for himself. Instead, he flops down beside them to rest as the omega slumbers.
He’ll rest now, and if he wakes again later to find them distressed once more, he’ll be perfectly happy to help his pretty friend Settle on his knot as many times as they need.
This is a good plan. I am a good aide.
It’s past dawn, edging into Kuya’s waking hours, by the time the omega finally starts to stir. For the first time in years, the slow return to consciousness is gentle and peaceful. Their brain feels fuzzy, blissful, and their whole body feels soft and warm and good.
Between their thighs, something warm and wet rolls over their crotch, and Kuya arches into the sensation sleepily, dazed and confused. As they wake, the sensation sharpens into focus; something is lapping over them, dragging down over their cocklet and clit, and splitting their swollen folds apart, panting breaths hitting the sensitive skin of their inner thighs. It happens again, and again, and Kuya’s thighs burn as they arch into it with confused pleasure, trying to shake off their fuzzy sleepiness.
Their clit pulses, cocklet dribbling precome against their stomach, and the omega jerks as a low growl begins, the vibrations shooting electric sparks up their spine. Kuya whimpers, feet curling in on themselves, hands fisting their blankets tightly. The growl deepens until it rolls through them in deep waves, making Kuya squeak, still dazed even as the heavy rumble over their clit makes their thighs tremble.
Kuya pants softly, hips straining into an arch as Mogi pulls back and then settles over them. He works the tapered head of his cock against their slick folds, nosing gently against their brow, and in one smooth gesture, he slides in, thick cock splitting their cunt open wide.
“Nnnghhk—” Kuya’s breath wheezes out as they come again instantly on Mogi’s cock, scent blooming in the air as their hole spreads wide and obscene around the thick shaft.
Mogi yips happily as he humps forward gently, keeping the omega’s legs pressed neatly against their chest, furred hips flexing as he fucks down into their swollen cunt.
Oh, my Kuya is awake! Mogi’s tail whips back and forth as he gazes down at Kuya. I should’ve been more gentle. Sorry sorry sorry—
“M-M’gi, hnng,” Kuya mumbles, tongue heavy in their mouth from sedative-laced sleep. Their hands come up to flop against Mogi’s flank, brow furrowing as they try to open their eyes and wake up fully, because oh god, Mogi is—Mogi’s cock is—
“Ungh, nghhohh—” Kuya slurs, half-panicked even as their eyes flutter, still trying to drag themselves awake, but they’re not fast enough, only sluggishly writhing as Mogi fucks them. “M'gi, hinnh, p'll out, pull out, plea—”
This is bad, so bad—their scents are mixing too smoothly, Kuya’s scent twining easily with the wolf’s, inching steadily towards a bond. If the omega can’t escape the wolf’s knot now, their unusual compatibility practically guarantees a Mating bond with the wolf, whether they want it or not.
Kuya’s whines grow frantic as they wriggle, but their efforts are practically useless. At most, they can squirm and tilt their hips, and it only makes it easier for Mogi to plunge his cock inside, angled just right for the tapered tip to kiss the entrance to their womb over and over. Kuya pants, breaths coming out in fast, high-pitched squeaks.
By the time they can fully keep their eyes open, it’s too late—Mogi’s knot inflates to full size and pops into Kuya’s cunt, and the omega arches their back hard, coming with a choked cry.
Mogi yips in joy as Kuya squirts hard around him, feeling their cunt ripple all the way up his shaft and tug hungrily at his cock. He responds by bearing down heavily so that the tip of his cock seats right against the roof of their cunt and his knot settles against their g-spot.
He dips down to lick wet kisses across their face as he rocks inside, whining as the stream splatters against his belly, oblivious to the way Kuya’s hands slap frantically at his sides.
My Kuya feels good! They must be so happy! I’m a good aide!
The wolf grinds in harder, making pleased little growls as Kuya’s cunt milks his knot against their will, still happily kissing their face and watching as their expression crumples with pleasure.
Helping his pretty friend sleep well is great, but this is even better—now, he gets to watch as their own tongue pokes out, tears starting to roll down their cheeks, pussy gushing a little each time he grinds against their g-spot and spills his own seed deep into their womb. His Kuya must feel so good, and it’s all because of Mogi’s hard work and dedication.
“Nnhh, can’t shtop cummin’,” Kuya pants; their thighs tense as they try to push Mogi off, but after countless orgasms, their legs won’t stop trembling, calves tensing. Against their will, their omega cunt tugs hungrily at Mogi’s cock as he rocks his hips in sweet, happy, tortuous little circles. “Unh, n’more, hoo, onh—”
Mogi lets out a low, rumbling boof, grinding his knot in a deeper and nudging the tip of his cock firmly into the entrance to their womb, and as more hot, creamy seed pours directly inside, Kuya can’t stop it—they squeal as a Mating bond locks into place with a firm snap.
With a wail, their hole locks tightly around Mogi’s shaft, and they squirm frantically beneath the wolf with a gasp, tears now streaming down their cheeks as they arch into one long, unending orgasm, unable to stop cumming for even a moment on their new Mate’s knot.
Above Kuya, Mogi yips, ecstatic, rolling his hips harshly as he starts to thrust again, knot still locked inside Kuya’s cunt, bullying their sweet spot. Mate? Mate! You’re my Mate now!
“Unghh,” Kuya sobs, “Mogi, pwea—aghh, ahhnh!”
Beneath the wolf, Kuya’s hole continues to spasm as he grinds against their sweet spot, plush folds taut around the impossible swell of his knot. Each roll of his cock forces out a little squirt from the sheer girth of his shaft, and Kuya’s whine chokes off in a silent scream as the orgasm rages through their veins, white-hot pleasure swallowing them whole. The sizzling heat seems to burn away their thoughts, mind slowly melting into a puddle.
Above them, Mogi grunts happily as he licks his new Mate’s face and neck, enjoying their stupid, cum-drunk expression and the way their cunt suckles fiercely on his knot, milking out his seed.
Slowly, their trembling hands finally stop trying to push him away and simply clutch at his black fur, clinging to the wolf for dear life as his seed fills their womb.
It takes several long minutes, but Mogi’s cock finally softens just enough for him to pull out. When he does, Kuya makes a high-pitched, hurt noise as they come again, legs splayed and trembling, still clinging to him. They're far from knot-dumbness, but their brain still feels melty and blissed-out and quiet.
Their pussy is filled to bursting with the wolf’s burning hot seed and twitching around nothing, yet barely leaking any seed; it’s clear from the small, quivering pouch on their belly that the majority of Mogi’s hot spend remains locked inside, warming their womb.
At some point, Kuya must have passed out again, because when they sit up with a gasp, their body has been wiped clean.
It can’t have been long—the sky is still barely past dawn, still long before time for Kuya to leave for work—but the ruined blankets have been swapped for clean ones, and their body smells clean and a bit soapy rather than sweaty.
Mogi wakes beside them with a happy rumble, nuzzling up against them as he rises. The omega sways in place, one arm wrapping around Mogi’s neck to steady themselves.
Beneath the blankets, their body aches pleasantly, thighs twitching, cunt sore; when Mogi huffs gently against their temple, their cocklet jumps on instinct, folds already growing slick.
“Did—did you fuck me to help me sleep?” Kuya gasps, clinging to the wolf as they tremble.
Mogi cocks his head curiously. Yes, of course! I am a good aide, he says proudly, tail whipping back and forth across the blankets. You are frustrated at night. Maybe from the sedative? Or it’s a tallman thing? I’m not sure. But I helped!
Kuya wheezes. “Mogi—most sleep aides don’t provide sexual relief to their clients.”
The wolf blinks at Kuya with wide eyes, ears tilting in confusion. Yes. But you needed it to sleep better? A low, distressed whimper rises in his throat, unsure. Is that not how humans work?
Mogi looks up at Kuya with wide, watery eyes, whining, and Kuya melts.
“No, you helped me,” they say hurriedly, hands coming up to ruffle Mogi’s fur. The wolf perks up instantly, tail whipping back and forth as he leans harder against the courier, and Kuya’s heart squeezes. “You’re a good aide, Mogi. Just, um. Maybe don’t do that for any other clients without asking first.”
Mogi huffs in agreement. That sounds like a good idea. I’m happy to help, but I’m concerned about the ethical implications of Mating with a client. The wolf brightens. Oh, yes! Yes, We are Mates now! I will help my Mate sleep because I am a good Mate!
The wolf brushes his cool, wet nose against Kuya’s temple, and they shiver, eyes fluttering shut as their pussy clenches automatically, scent blossoming with arousal. They should probably talk about this more. No, they definitely need to. It doesn’t matter that Mogi is handsome and smells good and makes Kuya feel safe and cared for; they’re acquaintances at best. But...
But Mogi is strong and solid and warm beside them, and the fresh Mate bond pulses between the pair, and Kuya is running on a high after having their best night’s sleep in years. If Kuya could finally get enough sleep… if every day could feel like this…
“O-okay. Please… be a good Mate for me.”
Yippee! I’m a good Mate!
Mogi snuffles happily against Kuya’s ear and neck, and the omega whines, swaying in place. The air shifts, and Mogi growls, chest rumbling as he catches the scent of omega’s needy arousal.
You need it?
Kuya’s face burns as they nod. Mogi nudges them them forward gently until they present, face pressed firmly into their blankets, hips twitching as their knees keep them propped up, pussy already drooling. Mogi laps over their hole and makes them gasp and shake, and then he moves up and mounts them gently, paws wrapping carefully around his Kuya’s hips.
He grinds his cock against their pussy once, twice, and Kuya squeaks, eyes rolling back as the wolf plunges his cock inside in a single, neat thrust, balls slapping firmly against their clit.
“Hhgh, onh—”
My sweet Mate. Mogi snarls as Kuya’s cunt tugs on his shaft, already begging for his knot; he thrusts faster, wagging his tail back and forth. Kuya lets out a breathless little scream, already starting to squirt a bit as his cock bullies in, thick and unrelenting, all the way from their sweet spot to the entrance of their womb.
So good, my Kuya, cumming on my cock before I even knot. He noses excitedly at their bonding glands, pleased when his Kuya keens, cunt clenching hard in response.
“D-deep, ah, ah, ah, ah—”
My Kuya likes it? The wolf laps over the glands, teeth skating over the skin teasingly, almost smug with delight when the omega arches hard with a shaky gasp, cunt already desperately trying to milk his slowly inflating knot. My Mate feels good? Say it.
“Hnguhh—m-my pussy f-feels good,” Kuya slurs, half sobbing as the wolf grinds his cock in mean little circles, “so good, I promise—agh, M-Mogi, please—”
Mogi breeds his Kuya’s pussy until their cunt is creamy with his seed. He licks them clean and bullies their clit until his sweet Kuya is wailing, and then mounts them again before their sloppy pussy has even stopped cumming.
The second time Mogi knots, the wolf finally latches his teeth into their bonding gland at the same time he pops his enormous knot into his sweet Mate’s spasming pussy.
His pretty Kuya squeals and comes instantly as he Mates them, squirting onto the blankets, and he digs his canines in, reveling in the way his Mate's sweet pussy clamps down hard at the gesture. Their still-fresh Mating bond solidifies, now permanent, inescapable.
Mogi pulls back to lick over the wound and heal it shut, grinding the swell of his knot against his omega’s sweet spot incessantly. Beneath him, Kuya’s mouth pops open, tongue poking out dumbly; their slick sprays onto the bed in long streams, ruining the blankets. They’ll probably have to get new ones at some point.
(As it turns out later, Mogi does indeed have to purchase new blankets for Kuya, on top of getting their old blankets professionally washed. He does it by himself, since Kuya wasn't able to walk on their shaky legs for hours after. Kuya makes him buy a very expensive specialty set that magically repels dirt and liquid.)
(It's fine. Mogi may not be Kuya’s aide, but taking care of Kuya as their Mate is infinitely better.)