Gay Om Om Novels & Stories

because the world needs what’s between your legs.” More gasps. One girl started crying. “I will breed you. Sell you. Trade you. You exist to make the next generation. And you will be obedient… or you’ll be replaced.” Behind me, Three-Seven had sunk to her knees, staring down at the tag around her neck. I didn’t look at her again. Not yet. But I already knew. She was going to be one of the most profitable omegas I had. If her spirit didn’t get in the way. It started with twenty. Twenty wide-eyed omegas too scared to run, too broken to fight back. Most were cast-offs, troublemakers, or “too difficult” for their packs. Easy pickings. Now? I walked the metal catwalk of the underground facility—

I can feel heaviness in my voice. I don’t know if he feels bad for me or what, but he drops the topic. Giving me a piece of quiet, to compose myself back. “Ok, ok let’s just go already, we are late for dinner!” I follow him out quietly “Don’t worry about earlier! Ok.” He says while looking at me. He is different than the others that I have met till now, namely the Agosti brothers “So, what’s your name?” “O-Omerta, Omerta Romano”

Rage and disgust were painted on the young face she used. "Y-you are...?" Omnibus tried to open his mouth. He, too, was also dumbfounded. But his heart was pure. He didn't even have any thoughts of disgust toward me as he already knew that I was an Omega of this pack. But a feeling of homecoming and satiable attraction lingered in his presence. It filled my nostrils and made a heavenly scent that never smelled before. It was sweet and harmoniously hazy. It was a touch of vanilla and lavender. I couldn't help but close my eyes as I inhaled a lungful of his addictive scent. It was too empowering that I had forgotten what kind of situation I was in.

Alfredo Fabri POV You see in this business you're either in or you're out. But the “out” in this case implies that you're no longer alive and far from the earthly realm. Getting into the world of organized crime is no child's play, and by virtue of swearing an OMERTÀ, an oath on the Saints, you're in for life. You never get out, never. But there was only ever one exception our little world had witnessed and that's in the case of Lorenzo Rizzo also known as “The Whisper”.

says Camilla, her perfectly manicured fingers making a circular movement around her stomach. “you’re hungry huh” asks Charlie. “yeah, you?, maybe we can go get something to eat” Camilla is a teacher, a lecturer to be specific, and Charlie always felt embarrassed walking with her, seeing her up in the classroom is enough for her, so with that thought in mind, Charlie walks away from her space and stalks toward the nearby grocery shop, “just a little bit of peace and quiet” she mutters under her breath, taking her already battered signature pink air pods and put it in her ears, she’s about putting the other in but she gets intercepted, already sensing the two huge pigs standing both beside he

Dominic closed the door to his room and could have sworn he was shaking, head to toe. He leaned his back back against it and closed his eyes for a moment letting himself be intoxicated by the delicious, strong pheromones. Those that were the pheromones of an omega in heat, his omega.

Lola asked while thinking so you can get nervous I’m going to make sure you blush more than I just did “Yeah friends oh yeah forgot to tell you I’m the gardener” Omar said “Ok I do have a soft spot for pretty boys who take care of flowers” Lola said teasingly making Omar’s face red “Bye catch you later” Lola said whilst laughing at Omar’s face before walking away to continue her tour Omar stood staring at her retreating back view. Smiling foolishly to his self before turning on the water spray to continue his work **********************

"Ahh, ehh, I just tried to see if gays really have sharp ears." "Stop what you just said gay!" He promised. Oh, what's the problem? Back then, you didn't care about anything I said. "Oh, go ahead and bake. hey bro come on." I opened the door. "Don't call me beks in front of your Mommy and Daddy! I'll really hate you if you do that." "Yes ma'am." Salute him at the same time. "Don't call me Ma'am!" It's still really good! "Ah, what shall I call you?"

He gripped the microphone with both hands, eyes sparkling with excitement as he stood at the center of the stage, his shimmering kaftan catching the lights like a disco ball. “This is my debut, so of course I need twenty-one roses,” He announced, striking a dramatic pose. “All the hunks, start lining up now. Yes, even you. Yes, you over there, trying to hide behind that plant. I see you!” The crowd burst into laughter and cheers, completely enchanted by his charisma and unapologetic charm. Everyone who knew Ruffa understood he was the life of the party—unapologetically loud, flamboyantly gay, and overflowing with confidence. He had been out and proud since childhood, and his energy remained

Omar missed being able to touch his mother’s face. “I missed you too. Are you surprised to see me?” Amy giggled when Omar nodded his head, giving her an enormous smile through his tiny lips. She combed her fingers through her child’s curly brown afro. She buried her lips in her baby’s hair, and she could still smell the watermelon scent from his shampoo.