Two weeks had passed since the Delta Sigma Rho orgy – a haze of classes, workouts, and the bone-deep exhaustion that came with too much work and not enough sleep. Jacob dreamt of the frat orgy nearly every time he slept, waking in sweat-soaked sheets with echoes of phantom moans lingering in his ears. His body still hummed with echoes of it, the way those frat bros had writhed under him, around him, their holes clenching desperate, their cocks painfully rigid as his Rut surged unchecked.
The payout had covered rent, bills and his other needs. But the real toll was his tenuous grasp on the Rut that threatened to rage out of control with every stray thought. Every flicker of arousal threatened to unleash a pheromone storm, turning casual glances into heated stares, gym sessions into awkward retreats. He'd caught teammates adjusting themselves mid-drill, professors clearing throats during office hours. The Rut was a beast now, clawing at his restraint, amplified by the cocktail of Alpha cum still reshaping him from the inside out. His hole felt perpetually slick, sensitive, craving the stretch even as his mind screamed for control.
He knew what to look for now, knew the subtle signs that warned him his body was out of control. But a life of near misses and barely avoided awkward situations could only last so long. Jacob needed a fix; a permanent one. A way to dam the flood before it drowned him.
That crisp early winter afternoon, the dorm room smelled of Cade's post-workout musk, earthy, intoxicating, the kind that made Jacob's cock twitch despite his best efforts. Sunlight filtered through half-drawn blinds, highlighting the clutter: discarded cleats, protein shake bottles, a rumpled playbook on the desk. Jacob stood before the mirror, tugging on a fresh tee that clung to his lean runner's frame, the fabric whispering over nipples that pebbled too easily these days. His reflection stared back. Eighteen, tousled brown hair, hazel eyes shadowed by fatigue, but his lips looked plumper than he remembered. As he turned and ran his hand over his ass, it felt fuller and rounder than before. Small but noticeable changes to his body all courtesy of Cade (and Marcus’) loads dumped into his ass over the weeks. He looked down and hefted his cock, once topping out at a respectable seven, now a thicker and fuller eight inches,
Jacob pulled up his shorts, hiding his plumping cock behind loose fitting fabric and the self-control of his own thoughts. He slumped onto his dorm bed, a pamphlet clutched in his fist tightly. The cover read So, You're an Omega in bold, unassuming letters, but inside, the pages promised answers to the chaos churning through his veins. His ass still remembered the feel of those frat house cocks, some thick and short, some long and thin, all hitting his insides differently, all filling him with the same cum. He thought there was a certain poetry to it. Black or white, thick or thin, long or short, they all came the same.
He flipped open the pamphlet, scanning the sections on biology basics. He understood the pamphlet was for those just learning about their abilities, which explained the rosy, romantic picture it told about mutual pleasure and being a “rare jewel” of a gift. But Jacob knew the raw truth; endless cocks stretching him, bodies piling on until he drowned in seed. Buried in the fine print, however, was a bit of hope: ‘Control is Possible. Seek Specialized Training for Rut Management.’ A quick Google search on his cracked phone screen lit up forums and clinic sites. He saw others claiming to be Omegas who went from quiet and unassuming to fucktoys for whoever happened to be around. One name kept rising to the top of their posts: Dr. Elias Thorne.
‘Changed my life,’ one post read. ‘No more accidental orgies.’ They all seemed to suggest the same thing, that control was possible and Dr. Thorne was the answer. The address was a twenty-minute jog: a discreet wellness center tucked behind a coffee shop. Jacob's pulse quickened - not fear, but a spark of power. He could fix this.
Jacob looked up as the door to the bathroom opened and Cade entered the room, having just finished his shower. Water droplets traced the ridges of his abs down to the white towel wrapped around his hips that shifted and swayed as he moved. It did nothing to hide the heavy outline of his cock. He stood in front of the mirror for a moment, examining his own physique, pinching the sides of his stomach searching for fat that didn’t exist, frowning at thick biceps for not being perfect enough. Jacob frowned at him too, wondering what Cade could possibly see that he didn’t like. As far as Jacob was concerned, he was looking at a living Greek god before him.
Cade reached over to his desk and grabbed his phone, scrolling for a moment before his eyes clicked up, tracking Jacob’s restless fidgeting as he rose from the bed and grabbed a light bag.
"Heading out?" Cade asked, voice low and gravelly, the kind that always sent a secret thrill through Jacob's gut.
Jacob paused, zipping the bag with more force than needed. "Yeah, to that specialist. Dr. Thorne. I can't keep this up, man. Last practice, Coach had to send half the team to cool off because I popped a half-chub during sprints. My Rut's like a goddamn siren call."
Cade set his phone aside, sitting up, muscles flexing under tanned skin. He rubbed a hand over his jaw, stubble rasping. "Thorne, huh? Hope he can teach you to clamp that down. The last thing we need is another orgy blowing up in the locker room." His lips quirked, but concern shadowed his blue eyes. "Good luck, though. Just... a lot of these guys are fakes, peddling crystals and incense that don’t do jack. Don't get your hopes up too high. If he pulls some new-age crap, walk."
Jacob nodded, the concern in Cade's eyes warming him more than it should. Their bond was this tangled thing; raw fucks that left bruises and bliss, quiet nights sharing fears. He reached out, clapping a hand on Cade's shoulder, feeling the solid muscle bunch under his palm. The contact sparked, a low heat pooling in his groin, but he shoved it down, breathing deliberate. "I know. But if I can control this, maybe we don’t have to tiptoe around each other so much. We could be whatever we want, not what biology demands.”
Cade's gaze held his, intense, possessive in that Alpha way. "Hit me up after. We'll grab food, debrief. And hey, if it works, we test it. Properly." The promise hung heavy, unspoken images flashing: bodies tangled, no barriers.
Jacob swallowed, throat dry, cock stirring traitorously. "Deal. I'll text when I'm done." He pulled away before he did something stupid, like dropping to his knees right there. Grabbing his backpack, he bolted for the door, the click of the latch a small victory.
The clinic sat off-campus, a nondescript brick building tucked behind a row of coffee shops, its sign reading 'Pheromone Dynamics Institute' in discreet lettering. Inside, the air was cool, sterile with a faint herbal undercurrent. Lavender? Sage? Jacob checked in at the front desk, heart hammering as a nurse led him down a hallway lined with abstract art that looked like swirling DNA strands. Dr. Thorne's office was at the end, door ajar, soft light spilling out.
"Come in, Jacob." The voice was smooth, commanding without effort, pulling him forward.
Dr. Thorne rose from behind a sleek desk, extending a hand. He was in his mid-forties, maybe early fifties, with salt-and-pepper hair cropped short, sharp features softened by laugh lines around piercing gray eyes. Tall and broad-shouldered, he filled out his button-down like it was tailored for power - chest straining the fabric, sleeves rolled to reveal forearms corded with veins. No lab coat, just authority radiating off him like heat from a forge.
They shook, Thorne's grip firm, lingering a beat too long, thumb pressing into Jacob's palm in a way that sent an unwelcome tingle up his arm. "Have a seat. Rare for an Omega your age to seek it out so proactively. Usually, young men like yourself tend to just enjoy the ride. Figuratively and literally," he said with a wink.
Jacob sank into the leather chair, the material creaking under him. The room was dimly lit, walls lined with bookshelves crammed with tomes on biology, ancient texts on herbalism, and a few locked cabinets that hummed faintly. Jacob knew doctors assessed the most serious Alpha and Omega cases with pheromone analyzers to see just how potent a patient was. He wondered if that could be the mystery hum.
A low couch hugged one wall, and in the corner, a small altar-like setup with candles and stones caught his eye. "Yeah, it's been... intense. Discovered I'm an Omega a few months back. Since then, every spike in arousal, and boom - pheromones everywhere. Can't even jerk off without the roommate picking up on it."
Thorne nodded, leaning back. “You're not the first. Omegas like you, young and potent, Rut hits hard if untrained. Rut's your equivalent to an Alpha's Heat. When you release pheromones, it's not random; it's a Rut cycle. Alphas are slaves to their Heats. They can’t control them. But Omegas? We can tune it. Breathe it, meditate it. Feel the source and control its release, or hold it back.”
Jacob's brows shot up. “We? You're...”
“An Omega. Certified and under control. Been teaching this for fifteen years.” Thorne's smile was wry, a flash of teeth.
“I didn’t realize they could be… that old. Sorry! No offense, but I’ve just never heard of any Alpha or Omega that old before.”
Thorne chuckled. “No offense taken. I'm the oldest known Omega; pushing fifty now. Most are under thirty, like you. This enhanced biology? It's a recent evolutionary blip in humanity, surging in the last generation. But a few of us are a little older before the dormant genes awakened in the population. I've had decades to master it. Ready to dive in?"
Jacob's pulse quickened. "Hell yes."
Thorne stood, gesturing to the mat. "Strip. Vulnerability is key, no hiding the body's signals. Lie back, relax."
Heat flooded Jacob's face, but he complied, peeling off shirt and shorts, briefs last. Naked, he lay back on the cool leather, cock twitching half-hard from nerves alone. Thorne dimmed the lights further, lighting a candle that filled the room with sandalwood smoke, then settled beside him, close enough that Jacob felt the man's body heat.
“Clothes bind energy. You must not feel shame, or nerves, or vulnerability. You are in control. Take a deep breath.”
Jacob took in a deep breath, held it, and then let it out. He felt exposed, his lean track body tensed in the moist, warm air of Thorne’s office, his cock soft but heavy against his thigh, abs taut from nerves.
"First, breathwork. Inhale deep through the nose. Feel your core, below the navel. That's your rut gland, a nexus of nerves and fluids. Visualize it: a glowing ember. Exhale, and imagine a shell around it, containing the heat. Feel the Rut coiling in your core. Acknowledge it, but don’t feed it."
Jacob inhaled, chest rising, the air thick with that herbal scent now mingling with his own budding arousal. Thorne's hand rested on his thigh, not gripping, just present—fingers tracing lazy circles, inching upward without mercy. The touch was electric, teasing the sensitive inner skin, brushing the crease where leg met groin. Jacob's cock stirred, thickening against his belly, but he clamped down mentally, visualizing a valve sealing the pheromones tight.
"Good," Thorne murmured, leaning in, breath ghosting Jacob's ear. "Now, tell me your experiences. Honesty unlocks control, releases mental blocks. How many Alphas have claimed you?"
Jacob's breath hitched as Thorne's fingers ghosted over his balls, cupping them lightly, rolling the weight in his palm. The sensation was maddening—gentle, insistent, pulling at the Rut without mercy.
“Alphas? Only two. There was this study partner in one of my classes. He bent me over a desk and claimed me, shoved his cum smothered fingers in my mouth and I couldn’t control myself. I needed his cock, needed his cum inside me to feel complete. And then Cade, my roommate. It’s different with him. Something lingers afterwards, an anchor pulling me back from drifting away from him. He’s taken me several times. I think it’s changing me. My cock has grown, lots of things have grown, and I’m more sensitive now.”
Thorne's eyes darkened, hand sliding up to wrap loosely around Jacob's shaft, stroking slow from base to tip, thumb swirling the bead of pre. "Alpha essence does that, rewires you, amplifies the nerve endings. But control comes from surrender without release. It’s a basic principle of tantric control, but the principles apply to Omegas perfectly." He pumped deliberate, fist gliding slick over Jacob’s veined length, twisting at the head to draw a gasp. Jacob's hips bucked instinctively, but he breathed through it, pheromones locked down.
The teasing escalated. Thorne's free hand roamed, pinching a nipple to a hard peak, rolling it till Jacob arched, a whine escaping. "Feel it coil? That's the Rut begging. But you hold the reins." He leaned down, mouth hovering over Jacob's cock, hot breath teasing the slit without touch. Then, tongue flicked out, lapping the underside in broad, wet strokes, tracing the frenulum till Jacob's thighs quivered. No suction, just licks and laps, building pressure like a storm.
Jacob gripped the couch, mind fracturing. Fuck, his mouth— so close, need to thrust in, flood him. But he visualized the seal, breath ragged. Thorne hummed approval, adding fingers to probe his entrance, circling the rim without penetrating, dipping just the tip to stretch the pucker. "Tell me how it felt when they took you. The stretch, the flood."
"Overwhelming," Jacob panted, as Thorne's tongue delved deeper, flat against the shaft, dragging up in agonizing slowness. "Marcus was the thickest. His cock was huge. I didn’t think I could take it, but my hole swallowed him up. I can still remember what it felt like every time that fat head of his popped into me, the gasps of pleasure. Even now…”
Jacob felt the overwhelming need to release his Rut, to flood the room and force Thorne to sink his cock into him. But he held down even harder as Thorne rolled his balls between his fingers.
“But with Cade it’s like my skin is on fire. It feels like home. With Marcus it was an animal instinct. Cade though, I can’t tell where the pheromones end and I begin.”
Thorne's strokes quickened, fist pumping steadily now. Jacob's balls drew up, orgasm hovering, but Thorne let go just before Jacob loosed. "Excellent restraint. Now, tool integration. This'll test deeper."
From the shelf, Thorne retrieved a slim prostate vibrator, curved silicone, remote in hand. Lube slicked, he parted Jacob's cheeks, circling the pucker with a finger. "Relax. Breathe into it."
The tip breached, cool then warming, sliding deep to nestle against the gland. Thorne flicked it on, a low buzz, vibrations humming through walls, massaging the spot that made Jacob's vision blur. His cock wept steady now, but pheromones held. Thorne's mouth joined, tongue lapping the underside, broad strokes from balls to head, savoring the taste.
“That’s very good. You’re a natural at this. Usually, it takes several sessions for patients to even sense the gland, let alone control it so well. Let’s try something a little more advanced. Think about how you’ve been clamping down on the gland this whole time.”
Jacob's mind sharpened, breath syncing. There, low in his gut, a pulsing warmth, like a coiled spring slick with need. He probed it mentally, fingers of thought tracing the edges. “Got it,” he murmured, voice husky.
Thorne's eyes gleamed. “Perfect. Now, experiment. A small dose, let a whisper out. Then clamp down again.” Jacob did, the air shimmering faintly, his cock twitching, a bead of pre welling at the tip. Not a spurt, but deliberate, like turning a faucet. “And hold, full lockdown.” The pre stopped, gland quiet. “Well done, Jacob! That’s amazing control for your first try.”
He could smell it in the air. A faint scent, his own, subtle honeyed musk.
Jacob sat up, exhilarated, skin buzzing. “Holy shit. I can... dose it? Like, on command?”
“Exactly. When an Alpha goes into Heat it’s a firehose of pheromones. They’re controlled by their own animal instincts. But you can be in control, but just of yourself but your body.”
Without warning, Thorne pressed a button on his control and the vibe in Jacob’s ass went to full power, pounding away at his prostate and Rut gland. Thorne pumped Jacob’s cock hard and fast and Jacob cried out as he felt his cock release ropes of cum across his abs, thick and white, his body convulsing. But through it all, his pheromones stayed locked down.
Thorne gave Jacob a moment and then pulled the vibrator from his ass with a wet plop. Jacob wiped himself clean with a warm cloth and slowly dressed.
“That was intense,” he said. “I can’t believe I held on through all of that. I feel like I can do anything.”
“You are a remarkably quick study, but you can’t do anything, not yet anyway. You need to practice, daily at first, and then weekly. Keep refining your control, keep challenging your body. When you feel comfortable with it, remember that the same muscles that control your Rut are the ones that unleash it as well. If the time is right, don’t be afraid to be you. This is a part of you. You should control it, but don’t hide it away. You’ll know when the time is right.”
Jacob shook the doctor’s hand, finished dressing, and left.
Dusk fell as Jacob strode back to the dorm, the falling sun painting the sky purple. He could feel it even as he walked; the lack of fear. He didn’t even notice it until it was gone. Ever since the incident with Marcus, he’d lived with a cloud hanging over his head, a weight. But now it was gone and his steps felt lighter.
The door creaked open to Cade pacing, concern etched on his face. "You're late. Everything good? Spill."
Jacob dropped his bag, pulling Cade into a hug, no longer afraid the contact would spark a runaway train of pheromones and lust. "Better than good. Thorne is the real deal. In fact, he’s an Omega too! Maybe one of the oldest alive. I discovered parts of me I didn’t know existed. He pushed me to the max, but taught me how to control it. I feel alive again! I can do anything, go anywhere, no more living in fear.”
Cade's brow arched, hand settling on Jacob's knee, squeezing. "No shit? Sounds promising. What'd he do, exactly? Hypnosis?"
"More hands-on," Jacob admitted, flushing as memories surged, thinking of Thorne’s mouth and fingers dancing across his cock and balls, to Thorne pumping his cock as the vibrator throbbed inside his ass. “He pushed me, trying to make me release my Rut, made me talk about my experiences with Alphas to test my control of my emotions. He said your cum was changing me, making my body adapt. But I held through all of it. I have to keep practicing every day, but it’s totally different now. In fact…”
Jacob slipped his hand down to the waist of Cade’s short, feeling his enormous cock through the thin material. “Should we try it out?”
Cade's eyes widened in surprise. “Are you sure? We’ve never tried it when neither of us wasn’t out of control with pheromones. We agreed not to risk it."
“This is different,” Jacob said. “And no matter what happens, I want to.”
They shifted, facing each other, the air thickening. Cade cupped Jacob's jaw, thumb tracing his lower lip before crashing their mouths together. The kiss was fire – tongues dueling wet, teeth nipping, Cade's stubble scraping deliciously across Jacob’s cheek. He moaned into it, hands roaming Cade's chest, thumbs flicking nipples to peaks. No pheromones stirred; he breathed through his desire, sealing the pheromones up tight. He wanted to do this on his own, under his own control.
Cade broke for air, trailing bites down Jacob's neck, sucking marks into collarbone. He shoved Jacob's shirt up, mouth latching on a nipple – tongue swirling, teeth grazing – while his hand delved into shorts, freeing Jacob's cock. Now a solid eight inches, thicker from all that Alpha seed, it throbbed heavy in Cade's palm. He stroked base to tip, slow twists milking pre, then bent, engulfing the length in wet heat.
Jacob's head fell back, fingers tangling in Cade's hair. He looked down and met Cade’s eyes, a shared look of tenderness Jacob thought would break him right there. But his thoughts were interrupted as Cade swirled his tongue along the underside of his cock. Cade bobbed deep, throat relaxing to take it all, humming vibrations that shot sparks to Jacob's balls. One hand tweaked the neglected nipple, pinching rolling, the dual assault building pressure.
Cade rose to claim Jacob’s lips again, slice with saliva and a salty hint of pre-cum, their kisses were sloppy, passionate, their tongues tangling endlessly as Cade’s fist pumped Jacob’s thickening cock.
"God, Cade," Jacob gasped, Rut clawing but locked. His mind screamed fuck me, fill me, his hole clenching empty, but he held. “Fuck me.”
Cade pulled back, keeping his hand locked around Jacob’s cock, slowly, lightly caressing it in a long tease.
“You sure? No pheromones. This is just us now.”
Jacob bucked into Cade’s hand.
“Just us, no pheromones. I need you inside me,” Jacob moaned.
Cade stripped them both, bodies bare, skin slapping as he rolled Jacob prone. His massive cock – ten inches of veined girth – nestled between ass cheeks, sliding deep in the crease, the fat head dragging across Jacob's hole with each thrust. Pre slicked the way, teasing the pucker, dipping in shallow before pulling back. Jacob pushed back, grinding, the friction maddening.
Cade grabbed lube from the nightstand – a quick pump coating his length – then pressed the crown to Jacob's entrance. He pushed slow, inch by inch, the stretch burning sweet without the pheromone haze. No amplified fire, just the pure drag of velvet walls yielding to invading thickness, every ridge popping past the ring. Jacob savored it – the fullness, the way Cade's hips flush, balls nestling heavy.
"So tight," Cade groaned, stilling buried deep, forehead to Jacob's shoulder. Without the Rut amp, it was intimate. It wasn’t a raw need to pump a load into Jacob. Cade felt the rhythms of their bodies syncing, their breaths mingling and ragged together.
Cade rocked gentle, shallow thrusts building to steady rhythm, each drag massaging raw nerves in Jacob’s ass, still sensitive from previous rounds of Alpha cum. His hips circled to hit every angle. His hands roamed Jacob’s body, searching for the sensitive spots that made Jacob shudder with ecstasy, feeling for the subtle changes as Jacob leaned into his touch. He stroked Jacob’s flank with one, and interlaced his hand in Jacob’s with the other.
Jacob arched, pushing back, feeling the connection between them. This, him inside, no animal instinct, no haze of pheromones. Just us. Just the slide of Cade’s cock massaging his prostate, sparks blooming slow. Cade pulled him up into his lap so they could see each other, Jacob’s legs splayed wide. Jacob sank deeper, riding languidly, his hips circling, grinding Cade’s cock against that spot. Cade's hand wrapped Jacob's eight-inch length, jerking matched to the roll, thumb swiping the slit.
They moved as one, mouths fused in endless kisses, soft now, tongues lazy, their energy almost spent. Cade's free hand cupped Jacob's ass, spreading cheeks for deeper access, the slap of skin muted, intimate. Pressure coiled unhurried, orgasms cresting like a wave.
Jacob came first, spilling over Cade's fist in thick pulses, pulsing as his ass milked Cade’s buried cock. Cade followed, groaning low, flooding hot white ropes painting Jacob’s insides, the warmth seeping without the usual frenzy. They shuddered together.
Jacob rolled off, but Cade stayed lodged, softening slowly inside. Jacob curled back, ass snug to Cade's groin, exhaustion pulling him under. No pheromones escaped; his control held. Jacob turned one last time to kiss Cade, his exhaustion pulling his eyelids shut but wanting to taste him one last time before his body gave out and he could stay awake no more.
Cade wrapped a muscled arm around Jacob, his massive bicep cradling his head like a pillow. He pulled a blanket across them both as their sweat-kissed bodies slowly cooled. It meant everything to him that Jacob had chosen this freely, that they both knew for sure now that it wasn’t lust borne of a science experiment, but something genuine and real. They would wake curled in each other’s arms and take the next day as it came.
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