Yes. Yes, it was hard. The stench of their own skin discarded and burning in the fireplace stirs them back to awareness, just as Miles empties his balls all over their face, their raw exposed muscle, the bloodbath he's made of their neck. Now every single trace of Kurt's beloved pack, both inside and out, has been brutally crushed, tainted, taken from them by this horrible man, leaving them with nothing. It's the hardest thing they've ever had to endure.
All the while, Miles makes a mockery of their anguish, rubbing their face in it, making them taste their own defeat on his fingers. Kurt sobs loudly, but even in this foggy, bleary, barely-conscious state, they know better than to fight him. So they degrade themself further by sucking his fingers clean of their own blood and come. He's taken everything from them. Their pack, their freedom, their dignity, their joy. Everything except the baby.
The baby... Kurt shudders, gulping around Miles' fingers. This is usually the part where they're left to slip in and out consciousness in a heap on the floor, the pain and shock finally too great to endure, but something's different this time. They're still shaking uncontrollably, muscles twitching, going painfully tight, convulsing... contracting. It hurts. Their sobbing whimpers quickly swell into cries of confused pain as waves of tight, burning spasms wash over them, distracting even from the open flesh wound on their neck. It's worst around their stomach, along their thighs, between their legs...
"A-A-Alpha," they gasp, shrill, frightened, desperate. One hand fists into Miles' pants, holding on for dear life, while the other presses into their stomach, slick with come and blood. It doesn't feel right. "Something's wrong. Th-The baby. Alpha, the baby, something's wrong—! Oh God, no, Alpha, p-please!"
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Date: 2023-12-15 02:00 am (UTC)All the while, Miles makes a mockery of their anguish, rubbing their face in it, making them taste their own defeat on his fingers. Kurt sobs loudly, but even in this foggy, bleary, barely-conscious state, they know better than to fight him. So they degrade themself further by sucking his fingers clean of their own blood and come. He's taken everything from them. Their pack, their freedom, their dignity, their joy. Everything except the baby.
The baby... Kurt shudders, gulping around Miles' fingers. This is usually the part where they're left to slip in and out consciousness in a heap on the floor, the pain and shock finally too great to endure, but something's different this time. They're still shaking uncontrollably, muscles twitching, going painfully tight, convulsing... contracting. It hurts. Their sobbing whimpers quickly swell into cries of confused pain as waves of tight, burning spasms wash over them, distracting even from the open flesh wound on their neck. It's worst around their stomach, along their thighs, between their legs...
"A-A-Alpha," they gasp, shrill, frightened, desperate. One hand fists into Miles' pants, holding on for dear life, while the other presses into their stomach, slick with come and blood. It doesn't feel right. "Something's wrong. Th-The baby. Alpha, the baby, something's wrong—! Oh God, no, Alpha, p-please!"