Pet Regression

After being forced to give my wife's first love my heart, I died in the hallway of the private hospital she had personally founded. My six-year-old son, Ash, had already begged her thrice by the time I had drawn my last breath. The first time was when he tugged on her hand, saying I was coughing up blood. Sneering, she claimed, "So he's finally learned something—teaching his kid how to lie." Then, she had the bodyguards throw him out of the room. The second time was when he clung to her sleeve, insisting that I rambled nonsense due to the pain. "It's just a heart transplant," she opined with a frown. "The doctor already said he won't die." At that, the bodyguards stepped in again and dragged him away. The third time was when he fell to the ground, clutching her pant leg with all his strength, crying that I had already passed out. She finally lost her temper by this point, grabbing Ash by the throat and hurling him out of the room. "I have already said it—Howard isn't going to die. Dare to disturb Skye's rest again, and I'll throw both of you out of this hospital," she warned. To save me, my son pawned the most precious thing he owned—his St. Christopher medal—to a nurse. "Ma'am," he said. "I don't need to live a long life. I just want my dad to live." She accepted the medal and was about to arrange for me to be transferred to the last available room. However, my wife's first love, Skye Whitley, had someone block the doorway with his pet dog. He mentioned, "Sorry, kid. Your mom's worried I'll get bored if I can't see my dog. This room is reserved for him."

Warning VIEWER’S DISCRETION IS ADVISED. If you're not into raw, filthy BDSM, dominant alphas, submissive sluts, deep throat gagging or relentless multiple orgasms, then close this now. But if the thought of being used hard and without mercy makes your thighs clench… I dare you to keep reading. “On your knees, pet,” Master Kane growled, his leather belt already looped in his hand. I dropped instantly, mouth watering, ass raised high like the obedient little whore he’d trained me to be. The cold floor bit into my skin, but the sting only made me wetter. He stepped closer, unzipped slowly, and fed his thick, throbbing cock between my lips until I gagged—tears streaming, mascara running, just the way he liked. “Good girl,” he praised, fisting my hair and f**king my throat deeper. “You take it so well for a slut who begged me not to stop last time.” I whimpered around him, my pussy clenching emptily, already soaked and ready for whatever punishment came next. He pulled out suddenly, strings of spit connecting us, and flipped me onto the table—wrists bound tight with his belt, legs spread wide. One brutal thrust and he was buried balls-deep in my ass, no warning, no mercy. I screamed. He laughed. And he didn’t stop until I was sobbing his name, coming hard around the invasion I craved. I’m his employee by day. His collared f**ktoy by night. If anyone at the office ever found out how I beg my boss to ruin me… I’d be fired. He’d be ruined. But when he owns every hole like this, how could I ever say no? Ready to watch her break and beg for more? Dive in… if you dare.

Slamming her against the wall, he dug Hus fingers into hr shoulders, eliciting a pain in her, which caused her to welp. His eyes caging her to his, shutting her sexy mouth up, as he looked into hee eyes. "Hear me and hear me now, because I won't have to repeat my words the next time. You are not my mate, you don't deem to be my mate, I don't want someone like you as my mate, because, you are my slave, you are human, you are skinny, you are ugly, damn, you are short, fucking short, you are WEAK, you are fragile, you don't deem to be my Luna, because I don't want someone like you, never, would I want someone like you, especially not my pet" Alexia Ortega was just a normal girl growing up, all she wanted was a normal life, she grew up with her parents, they lived in the village land of Meduza, they were humans, living peacefully in human lands, not until they were attacked by the Granullas, they took her for slavery and afterwards sold her to her mate, the alpha king. Jaxon Cruz, the alpha king, he have been living a thousand years, hoping for his mate to free him from his misery, he believed he had been the cause of his mate's death, who had continued to torment him. He still wanted his mate, hoping one day, his mate would come back to him, even though she was dead. He was the alpha king, and what is a king without a mate, especially one that have a history of dead mate. After five hundred and twenty nine years, he found a mate. Now how were they able to overcome the forces of the unknown enemies, who had killed his former mate.

When I opened my eyes, I found myself supposedly transmigrated to some ancient era. Every morning, before light touched the sky, someone would yank me out of bed to haul trash, chop wood, and do whatever filthiest job needed doing. Somehow, I'd become the lowest-ranked servant in the entire estate. The estate lord's son would climb onto my back and ride me around the courtyard like some pet he was proud to show off. Anyone in the household could hit me, kick me, or shove me aside, and not a single soul would speak up. Five years passed like that, so awful that I almost lost my mind, as if I were living in hell. Then one day, a group of servants cornered me. They didn't bother hiding their intention. The moment I saw their faces, I knew I was in trouble. Fists flew, boots landed, and everything blurred. Just before I passed out, I heard them whispering, "We're going to kill him if we keep this up." "Come on. This place only looks like some old noble estate. It's not an actual one. If he dies here, we're the ones who'll get dragged to court!" "Relax. Ms. Shaw will handle it. The idiot pissed off her childhood sweetheart. Getting tricked into this place is exactly what he deserves." Fear swallowed everything, and the world went dark. When I woke again, the lady of the house had conveniently "returned from visiting her family." The lord threw a grand celebration with tables full of food, wine flowing, and musicians playing like nothing had happened. I carried dishes into the banquet hall and lifted my head. Her face was the same as my wife's, Melissa Shaw. I set the final dish down, stepped closer, and in a voice only she could hear, asked, "Ma'am… are you enjoying your little game?"

“I’m going to split you open on my cock right here on this table,” he snarled, fangs grazing the frantic pulse in my throat, “and knot you so deep my daughter and every wolf in this pack will smell me dripping out of your ruined little cunt for weeks. Tell me you want that, babygirl. Beg Daddy for it.” I was shaking, slick running down my thighs, clit throbbing so hard I couldn’t breathe. “Yes… please…” His massive hand clamped around my throat, squeezing until stars burst behind my eyes. “Yes what, little human?” “Yes, Daddy,” I choked out, voice breaking. “Ruin me. Breed me. Right fucking now.” --- I never should’ve stepped foot in Ireland for my best friend’s Christmas wedding. Not when I’ve spent months on my knees in the dark, fingers buried in my pussy, moaning her father’s name like a prayer. Alpha Cassian Blackthorne. Ruthless. Feral. Old enough to be my father...twice over. The monster who makes empires kneel and wolves beg, the wolf who could snap my neck with a flick of his wrist… and the only man I want choking me with his belt while he forces every thick inch down my throat. He’s forbidden. He’s depraved. He’s looking at me now under the blood-red Christmas lights like he’s already tasted my surrender. And he has one holiday wish... To hunt me. Break me. Fuck me raw and bloody until I’m addicted to his knot. Until I’m carrying his pup and wearing his bite like a collar. This Christmas, the Alpha isn’t asking permission. He’s taking his naughty little human pet… And I’m already dripping for the day he finally snaps.