Knotbound

Naevii’s POV;

“Come on, Naevii! Don’t do this, you’re just going to embarrass yourself!” Lattah pleads. “This is a big mistake!” She tries to grab my arm, but I swerve out of her reach, “You’re blowing this way out of proportion!” she yells after me.

But I’m determined, and my speed and attitude reflect that. I march with quick, determined steps. My hands fisted at my sides, and my face pinched in anger. I’m on a mission of passion, and I’m not capable of hearing her explain how ridiculous my little fit is, no matter how much sense she might make. No one cares about something as tiny as littering. And on any other day of the week, maybe I would’ve been on the same page, but today is another fucking story.

Today has been complete shit. Total anarchy on a global scale. First, I was late for rehearsal; I perform as one of the country’s top aerialists, and the new show’s opening day was quickly approaching. Tardiness was not to be tolerated.

Second, I broke one of my toes immediately at the start of practice. The start! Do you know how painful that is when you have another 5 hours of footwork to do on a broken toe?

Third, I had to put up with the bitch squad and their latest rumors about my sex life, or, as they prefer to call it, my life of whoring myself to get to the top. Because, you know, obviously, years of training couldn’t possibly explain my success. The cunts!

Now this asshole? This asshole just broke the camel’s back with his littering. I was about to give Lattah a ride home when I saw this jerk crumple up some trash and just throw it on the ground as he walked into the club across the lot from us. Not caring whatsoever about the planet.

Oh, he was about to get it! I’m gonna make him come back out, pick that trash up, and put it in a bin while I smile and call him a ‘good boy’. Teach him a lesson!

I’m in full-blown tyrant mode, and I can’t be fucked with. I’m completely incapable—under my little stormcloud of rage—of registering the sign on the door that forbids omegas from entering.

Omegas, like me.

It doesn’t matter that every Alpha, Delta, and Omega is required to be on a suppressant if outside of their home. This place was created to be totally free of any and all omega scents and presences, period.

Oops!

So here I am, steaming peeved, and ready to tear a new one into a complete stranger. Standing in all of my five-foot-seven omega glory, still wearing my bodysuit, sweatshorts, and leg warmers. But damn it, littering, I can’t be stopped!

I hate people who can’t show love and care for the planet we live on. I mean, come on, we would not survive without everything this planet gives us. Why can’t people take better care of her?

People need to stop putting false idols and man-made social conformities on a pedestal and instead, practice basic TLC on the very real physical thing right in front of them. They need to focus on the one god-like entity that is alive and well today and that sacrifices itself daily to supply us with the comfort and life we all enjoy: our planet Deanyn.

Resolute in my mission, I press on.

I carefully weave through all the patrons at the bar, paying no mind to the fact that there are no other omegas here. Everyone here is a hulking alpha or delta, but for some reason, my anger has me seeing through a tunnel, noticing nothing.

The club is one long room. The bar and its scattered tables occupy one side, separated from the dance floor by a row of thick wooden pillars. Beyond them, bodies sway beneath flashing lights and thumping music. At the very back, a wooden staircase climbs to an upstairs area, a sign with an arrow pointing up and the word ‘Billiards’ tell me whats up there.

As I stalk after the littering menace a few sets of eyes watch me. He finally stops at a table where his friends currently sit, and loud slaps and greetings meet him, one by one.

My hand looks like a child’s when I raise it to tap him on the shoulder. As he swings around to look at me, that is when my brain finally catches up to me, and the words on that sign back there fully register. Shit! Well, if you made a mistake and need to fake it to make it out safe, that is what I’ll do. I square my shoulders, and with a determined mind, I address him with a confidence I am definitely not feeling.

“Excuse me! Sir?” I call out. He spins around and leans down, giving me his full attention. A euphoric grogginess envelops me; the power coming off of him is intoxicating. Flashes of things I want him to do to me fill my mind, but I push them aside.

“And what brought you in here… little fox?” His rich, rumbly voice slithers across my skin, roughening it up with rising little bumps. A rush of heat and moisture slip from between my legs. Muscles that were sore a moment ago after a full days worth of rehearsals, now crave a new kind of soreness.

As this enormous man examines me, something in my body reacts enthusiastically…

The fire in his gaze.

The coiled strength in his muscled frame.

The way his lip catches between his teeth, like I’m not standing here all sweaty, with frayed hair and a crazy look on my face—but as if I’m some mythical flying cynnthrahanni about to ride his dick to the shores of the Iridissiann Paradise instead.

The thought lands too easily. Too vividly.

It sends a sharp, unwanted spark through me, a flash of what it would feel like to wind myself around him, to match that strength with my own.

I swallow it down and take a step back, forcing air into my lungs, forcing control back into place.

“I don’t exactly enjoy picking up after total strangers who are too selfish and inconsiderate to show some respect for our shared home. I demand that you go outside and correct your littering on our beautiful planet!” I accuse with only a little waver to my voice, but come on! He’s a big boy!

I’m not attracted to this brute.I think to myself.Not happening! I will not break focus and daydream about those strong, muscular hands the size of shovels, touching my body and causing tingles to erupt. Or his hot breath fanning over my skin from those soft lips that seem to be getting closer and closer, as he leans in to hear me better over the dance music. Or the divine smell of his pheromones and the heat from that chest I just want to pet… Shit!

His lips smirk, and the thought occurs to me that he might be able to read everything clear as day across my face. Just great! He looks at me as if I’m the most adorable puppy at the shelter, and it infuriates me! He needs to take me seriously, and everything about his expression right now makes me feel like all he hears is ‘Woof, woof, yes, master.’

But just when anger is rising anew in me, confusion lowers his brow, but just a little. “What are you talking about, little fox?” He asks, closing further in on me, almost blocking anyone from seeing me, except him. I think it is odd and take notice of this boxing-in behavior.

“I’m not your Little Fox! And I’m talking about the trash you dropped on the ground back in the parking lot. Show some respect to our planet. She’s the only one we’ve got!” I stand my ground. Hands on hips, feet shoulder width apart… A fierce pose meant to intimidate.

“You’re cute, you know that... Little fox?” He taunts. “Sexy too.” He adds on after gazing lazily at my body.

“Typical alphahole! Ignorant too, I’ll bet! I’m just wasting my time… Whatever!” I roll my eyes and begin to turn around, fully intending on going and picking up his trash for him, when he stops me with a hand on my shoulder. Spinning me around, he places his other hand on my other shoulder, making me look him in the eyes.

“Did you even notice where you are, omega?” He asks. I look around unsteadily, taking in the other bar-goers and their very real and intense stare down with my body. Unease fills me.

And that’s when I realized what I had done. I fucked up!

“You’re considering running right now, but that would be a mistake! That would ensure a frenzy on a painful scale… for you! I wouldn’t risk that delicious little body if I were you!” He adds in a growling tone, thickly coated in a heated hunger.

“I didn’t realize this was a…. a… It’s a simple mistake!” I explain as I look around wildly, meeting several hungry gazes. “Please! You need to escort me out safely, as fast as you can!” I panic.

“Oh, do I? Hmmm..” He crosses his arms in front of his chest and relaxes with a lazy smile, seemingly enjoying my predicament.

“Oh, I see. You’re one of those guys, huh? The simple-minded, selfishly self-consumed sexist creep who enjoys other people’s misery for dessert! Pity, and you have a nice ass. What a waste!” I mutter out loud because while I want to be fierce and get in his face, I’m scared, so I say all of that to everything but him, my eyes moving all around the room with every word.

“What did you call me, little fox?” He asks. “Careful! Someone might think about disciplining you for your mouth there. Choose better words before I feel compelled to gag that juicy little hole in your face.” He threatens as he wraps his fingers around my arm, taking a better hold of me and keeping me as close to him as he can, without merging our bodies together.

“In your dreams, mother fucker! Let go of me before I kick the shit out of those family jewels that I’m sure one needs a microscope to locate!” I try to struggle out of his hold, but fail. This fucker is strong.

“Oh, you’re gonna get the chance to locate it yourself once your lesson in manners is over. Can’t say I didn’t warn ya!” He bends forward and grabs me around the legs, hauling me up and over one of his shoulders. I scream and kick, flailing to get out of his hold. But he’s the definition of brute force, and no one seems to fucking care.

In fact, once he throws me over his shoulder, most of them lose all interest, as if this beast just called dibs and everyone is honoring it. How typical for the day and age we’re in. See a girl cry for help, and no one cares enough to step up. Pathetic!

“Stop fighting me so much. You don’t want to piss me off, little fox!” He says as he slaps one cheek hard, leaving a sting behind that causes my eyes to tear up. He marches to the back of the club, where I see a staircase getting closer and closer.

I stop fighting long enough to calm myself and get my bearings. scoping out my options for escape before he can get me alone. As soon as we step through the pillars to the back room, where the stairs are close enough to climb, I grab the wooden pillar and hold on as much as I can, but someone tickles my sides, and I let go in shock.

“What is wrong with all of you? You see a girl fighting a strange man, who’s trying to carry her off, and you do nothing? Help me!” I yell out. “I do not give consent! Let me go!”

The bartender chooses to finally speak up, “Bar rules, little lady, any omegas willing to walk in despite the clear warning on the door may be subject to punishment by any patron that claims it.”

The fucker.

There are a few chuckles in the crowd, but mostly, they ignore me and continue drinking and dancing. I look around, finallytaking notice that Lattah is nowhere in sight, she didn’t follow me in, probably because she saw the sign. We get to the staircase, and at the moment I expect him to take the first step; he pivots and opens a door to the side.

I was so focused on the staircase that I never even noticed the door tucked beside it. The alphahole shoved through it and carried me into a square foyer. The club door sat behind us. Three heavy doors lined the remaining walls, each fitted with a metal eyehole and a large painted number. Soft music still drifted in from the bar, but it sounded distant now.

My captor didn’t hesitate. He strode straight for the door across from the club entrance. A large number five was painted across its center.

Why there was a five when there were only four doors in the room was beyond me.

His arm tightened around my thighs as he hauled me through the doorway.

“You’re such a brute!” I yell as he closes and locks the door behind us.

“Alphahole, Mother fucker, Brute… Ignorant, Inconsiderate, Selfish… That’s six! Wanna add anymore?” He asks.

“Whatever, you sadistic ass. Let me go!”

“You haven’t seen my sadistic side yet, little fox, and that’s seven! But I’ll happily show it to you once you’re done with your lesson!”

He throws me onto a bed and instantly grabs one of my wrists, slinging rope around it before grabbing the other and binding them together. I tried to get my other hand free, but he grabbed it again with ease and bound me even tighter.

A little tale of rope hangs from the knot that he used on my wrists, like a leash. He pulls me by that leash to my feet, then pulls my arms up over my head, latching the end of the rope around a metal ring anchored to the ceiling. I pull a few times trying to see how easily I might break it, but I’m sure you know the chances of me making any progress at this point! Zilch!

I’m so focused on fighting him that I only now start to take in the room he brought me to. It’s a playroom. Ropes, cuffs, straps on everything, even the bed. O rings in various locations, a spanking bench, a cage… it’s a clean room for making big messes.

While I test out the strength of that metal ring I’m now tied to, the asshole bends down and removes my shoes, then rolls my warmers off my legs. I look down in alarm.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I screech, picking up my knees and trying to kick at him.

He reaches for my waistband and pulls my shorts down and off, throwing them to the side of the room. I continue kicking. He grabs one ankle and pulls my right leg straight and to the right; I hear a click, and when I yank my leg back, it’s held in place. This fucker has welded cuffs to the legs of the bed! He grabs and secures the other ankle, and now I am a starfish hanging vertically in the air at the foot of this bed, as he continues to pull each piece of clothing off of me.

He goes to reach for my crotch when,

“Hey, stop that!” I demand.

For a split second, he grins at me, cocky and confident, as if my ‘Stop’ was merely a dare. A challenge rather than a command. What an ass! While maintaining deep eye contact, his fingers brazenly reach my pussy.

“I can scent your interest, little fox. You can yell and cry, fight and be as cruel as you want. It doesn’t change the very true statement that you want this, you want me, and you want it badly!” He states smugly.

“Oh, you’re so full of it, you know that?”

“Well, look at us. Starting off with two very true statements. I’m full of it, and you want me more than you can admit.” He laughs.

He rubs his fingers against my covered mound and slowly traces the crease of my slit with a tickle-like pressure at first, then a heavy pressure as he wraps his entire palm around my still-clothed cunt. He’s laying claim to my pussy while silently daring me to deny it, and damn it if I can’t seem to speak up to the fucker! He’s right, but I don’t want to stop fighting with him…

It’s too much fun!

He pushes his thumb through the crease of my lips slowly, before grabbing the snaps and pulling my bodysuit open at the crotch. I close my eyes and tense, because I know he’s just discovered my secret… I’m completely naked underneath.

I hate how suffocating it is to wear panties under a leo or bodysuit. They’re so tight against my lady bits, and I’d rather be cozy than proper, so I often choose to pull the drapes without shutting the blinds, if you catch my meaning. Except this, right here, proves to me why I should never go pantyless again… For when brutes, like this one, reveal evidence that shows your true feelings!