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Spilled Milk

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“I can’t believe this…” Stiles moaned, as Scott helped him up to the examination table at Deaton’s.

Lydia huffed out an annoyed breath, skimming though a large tome in the corner - already searching for a solution for their newest crisis.

“I get laid once, and it has to be an incubus.”

Scott patted his back. The others were still chasing the creature all over Beacon Hills.

“At least he liked you?” Scott said tentatively, making Stiles roll his eyes.

“Well, it’s true,” Deaton put in from where he was reading a leather bound journal. “If he didn’t, he would have killed you during intercourse, instead of trying to turn you.”

Right, because apparently incubi turned people by having sex with them, and then letting their come slowly turn said humans from the inside out.

“You should have used protection,” Lydia said from the corner. Of course, she was right. Except apparently she had no idea how persuasive an incubus could be. The worst part was that Stiles barely even remembered himself.

“Yeah well, no sense crying over spilled… whatever.”

They sat there for a few moments in silence. Stiles was feeling a bit dizzy and kind of feverish - just enough that he knew he would be useless with a book. So, there was nothing to do left, other than sitting there, and hoping that they would find an antidote before he started fucking people to death.

Naturally, it was Lydia who managed to do it.

“Aha!” she said, running her eyes over the page in front of her, then shorty after “Ugh…”

Well, that didn’t sound promising.

Deaton walked up to her, reading over the girl’s shoulder, with his eyebrow slowly climbing up his forehead.

“Hm, that could work,” he said.

“What? What could? What was that disgusted noise?” Stiles asked, antsy to be finally out of the shadow of turning into a lust demon.

Lydia primly handed the tome over to Deaton, who immediately started to gather ingredients, and putter around on his desk.

“Scott,” Lydia said, taking the werewolf’s elbow. “I think we should leave, Stiles will be okay on his own.”

Not suspicious. At all.

“Lyds, what was in that book?” Stiles asked carefully. Okay, he didn’t want to turn into an incubus, but… well. He saw enough by now to know that there were worse things out there.

Scott, meanwhile was looking at what the vet was doing with round eyes.

“Wow. He has to drink all that? Isn’t it a bit much?” he asked, getting Stiles’ attention.

Deaton had a see-though plastic bucket on his desk - it had measurements on the side - and was stirring the greenish liquid in it.

“He won’t be drinking it, Scott,” the man replied without looking up. He added some fine, white powder to the concoction. Right as they watched, the whole thing turn to neon purple and start to fucking glow. Actually, there were even small dots of bright lights swimming in it.

“Well. I think that’s about ready,” Deaton said. He turned to the cabinet in the corner, and started to pull out tubes and… Oh.

“Ugh, you know what, doc? Incubi aren’t that bad, actually, don’t you think?” Stiles asked with a shaky voice, realizing what was going to happen.

That had the vet turning back towards them.

“Mm-hm… Stiles, did you know that you won’t really turn into an incubus? Nine days from now, the new incubus - that is already growing inside you - will simply materialize. It will take control of your body and literally peal what’s left of you off itself,” Deaton explained with a blank face.

Scott made a gagging sound, and Stiles felt his face grow pale. Okay. Yeah, no plan B then.

“Scott. We are going,” Lydia said firmly. The werewolf took a second to squeeze his friend’s shoulder, but then followed obediently.

“Wonderful. Stiles, undress and get on your back, please.”

“Are you absolutely sure…”

“On your back,” the man said.

Stiles swallowed past the lump in his throat, and reluctantly did as he was told. The metal table was hard and cold against his skin. He covered his crotch with his palms, to keep at least have a semblance of decency.

Deaton appeared beside him a moment later. The bucket - shit, it was fucking half-full, - was placed on a metal cart that he parked by the table, near Stiles’ hips.

He pulled on a pair of latex gloves and lifted the rubber tubing, examining it for a second. There was a bulb - no, pump - in the middle of it, and it ended in a thick nozzle.

“I could use an enema bag,” he explained casually, “but I prefer to have a more accurate control.”

Stiles shuddered, his fingers twitching where they rested over his cock.

“Pull up your knees,” he dictated. Stiles watched in something between horror and fascination as the man dipped two fingers into the purple liquid - it looked thick, almost oily - before he started to massage Stiles’ hole.

He couldn’t help moaning at the sensation. He had no idea what was in the bucket, but it felt incredibly strange - he knew that it had to be around room temperature, but it caused a slight, but undeniable burning sensation on his skin, and the more Deaton rubbed it in, the hotter it felt.

Suddenly, the door opened and Peter strode in, like he owned the place.

Stiles squeaked, and closed his legs.

“What the hell are you doing here?!” he asked, not even caring that his voice grew high with panic.

Peter gave him a grin before nodding to Deaton.

“I’ve got your text. What do you need me to do?”

The vet returned the gesture as he dipped the nozzle in the glowing substance.

“This might get a little… intense. I would’t want Stiles to hurt himself,” he explained.

“No, no, no. I won’t, I promise…” he stuttered out, but Peter was already standing behind his head, grabbing his shoulders and holding him down.

“Part your knees,” Deaton told him. He swallowed, but decided that it wasn’t worth arguing over. For some reason the thought of one of his actual friends seeing him like this was worse than the undead creeper.

He opened his legs, biting down on his lips as he felt Deaton enter a slick finger into him, then quickly adding a second.

“You’re still pretty open from the incubus… How long ago did the intercourse happen?”

“Ugh, about… ah. Three hours? I guess.”

“And you’re still lose? I bet you play a lot with your hole,” Peter said from above him, making his face grow hot.

Before he could find a retort, the vet was withdrawing his fingers and pushing the nozzle in, a bit too quick. The stretch, paired with the burning from the liquid made his eyes water. He tightened his fingers covering his cock, hoping that no one noticed it starting to fill.

“How often do you engage in anal play?” Deaton asked.

“Wh… What kind of question is that?” Stiles asked incredulously. It was none of their fucking business.

“Oh, just some medical curiosity,” the man replied. Peter snorted, but Stiles didn’t have time to call out the blatant lie, because Deaton was squeezing down on the pump, and he could feel the first spurt of liquid entering him. His body instinctively seized up, and the answering burn was so strong that he couldn’t stop moaning.

“It would be better if you could relax,” the vet said, pumping another load into him. “The receipt had quite a bit of ginger in it.”

Stiles panted through his open mouth. He let his eyes fall closed as he tried to analyze the incredible sensation of his insides being filled with liquid. Peter hummed under his breath whenever his body would jerk from the growing tightness in his stomach.

“You’re doing very good, Stiles,” Deaton said. 

With struggle, he managed to open his eyes, hoping that they were nearly finished, but to his horror, there was still about half of the concoction left. He stifled a moan, back almost arching off the table, but Peter was holding him tight.

“Ah-ah-ah. You’re not going anywhere,” the werewolf told him, squeezing down on his shoulders. Stiles could feel a slight prickle against his skin, telling him that there were claws involved.

A few more pumps later, he was sure he was about to burst. The almost pleasant warmth was changing, growing hot as he couldn’t help his stomach from clenching as his discomfort grew.

“Ah, stop, please…” he wasn’t even aware that he let go of his dick and his hands were reaching for the nozzle until Peter was grabbing his wrists, and pulling them up, pinning them beside his head.

It was hard to breath, he felt like he had a fever and the room seemed to be spinning around his head.

His cock was full and aching, leaking onto the tight skin of his stomach.

“Well, that’s an unexpected reaction,” Deaton said from between his legs. “I wonder if it’s the effect of the incubus, or you just simply have a slutty body…”

“Wh…?” His head was foggy, he couldn’t have heard that right, right? His cock twitched.

“I think it’s the latter,” Peter commented casually, rubbing his crotch against the top of Stiles head that jutted out over the end of the table. “You know our Stiles, he always stinks of either frustration, or his own jizz.”

Deaton pumped two more times, and through his heavy lidded eyes he could now see a definite bulge on his belly. Stiles whined, mouth going dry from the sight.

“I wouldn’t know that,” the vet replied after some consideration, like he wasn’t even there, right between them. “Though, I’m not surprised. It’s rare to see someone so desperately in need of a hard fuck. I mean, have you seen the things he does with his mouth?”

There was another pump, making his eyes roll back to his head. He was sure he will die if they don’t stop. Or come. Or both.

Peter chuckled.

“Absolutely, he acts like a naughty little bitch, half the time. Just look at him, throwing his legs apart like a whore”

Stiles shook his head, unable to speak, but he glanced down - to his bewilderment - his knees were as open as they could go, like a silent invitation.

“And… that was the last of it,” Deaton said, ignoring the sob of relief from Stiles. He picked up a large but plug from the cart - bigger than the nozzle, probably bigger than the largest thing he ever had in his ass. 

“Now all we need is to make sure you don’t leak while we wait.”

Stiles wanted to protest, but all the strength left his body. Deaton didn’t waste time, he pulled the nozzle out with quick fingers, and then the plug was pushing into him, hard and relentless. When they got to the widest part of it - about as thick as Stiles’ wrist, it wouldn’t go any farther.

“Ah… no, it’s too…” 

He couldn’t finish the sentence, Deaton just put the heel of his palm over the base and pushed. Stiles couldn’t stop a scream tearing out of him when his hole finally gave in, letting the plug slide into place.

Afterwards, he just lay there, panting. Peter let go of his hands, and brushed the sweaty hair from the boy’s forehead.

“Aw, was that too big for you? Well, Alan had to make sure everything would stay inside - and with your ass being as well used as it is, better safe than sorry.”

Stiles closed his eyes and just breathed for a moment, trying to get his thoughts in order. He didn’t dare look down on his stomach, he could feel that it was huge.

“Wh… ah… what are we w-waiting for?” he managed finally. He hoped that this would be it, that he could go to the bathroom, and forgot that this ever happened.

Deaton patted his thigh before taking his gloves off.

“Do you remember the lights in the liquid?”


“Well, they are hard at work now, collecting the magic of the incubus before it could take hold. It will probably take a few hours.”

Stiles moaned, not even able to imagine staying like this for so long.

“Actually,” the vet continued, “It’s similar to how pearls are made; the spark attracts the incubus’ power, then coats it in the liquid that was most of your enema. Then it attracts some more, and coats it again, and again and again. If you’re lucky, and the incubus wasn’t too powerful, you will only have to push out a few, grape sized pearls at the end. But…” 

Stiles felt himself start to shake, skin feeling too tight and shivery.

“Considering your propensity with magic, they will probably grow much larger.”

He was taking quick, thready breaths, trying to wrap his head around all the information, but before he could succeed, Deaton was holding a little vial in front of his face.

“There’s no reason why you can’t sleep through the development phase, and at least Peter and I can grab something to eat while you’re out,” he said, popping of the cap. Stiles could smell something bitter and faintly floral, and then he was out like a light.

When he woke up, he was still on the examination table, except he was half-sitting, with Peter behind him, caging his arms in.

It took a few moments for his head to clear, but when he looked down his body, he immediately felt his heart rate pick up.

He looked like he was pregnant. His stomach was huge and bulging.

“Rise and shine,” Peter said behind him, and he could hear the grin in his voice. “Time for the best part.”

Deaton stepped between his legs, gloves on his hands again, and prodded his hole. Stiles realized that the plug was gone, and his ass felt… tingly and kind of loose.

“I took the liberty to prep you a bit. It was easier than I though, to be honest, your hole was practically hungry for my fingers. If you slept for a bit longer, I think I could have managed to get my whole hand in there,” he said casually.

Stiles moaned, his cock either got hard during the ‘prepping’ or it never got soft, but now it was twitching with enthusiasm.

“Hm. It looked unbelievable, I always knew you would be lewd, but even I didn’t imagine that you don’t even have to be conscious to be a slutty size-queen,” Peter added.

“Alright. Let’s see what we have here,” Deaton said, reaching down and hooking his thumbs into Stiles hole. His breath hitched, cock jerking from the sensation. The vet didn’t seem to notice, just started pulling, spreading his ass apart until he was moaning without control.

“I can see the first one, push,” the man ordered. Stiles tried, and could feel something shift inside him. He couldn’t help sobbing as it slid lower, forcing his asshole to open impossibly wide.

“Almost out, try again.”

He did, feeling sweat break out over his body. The pearl had to be huge, even though he couldn’t see it yet. His head fell back to Peter’s shoulder as he pushed, an when it finally worked free his vision blacked out for a second. Deaton picked up the pearl to show him. It was around the size of a man’s fist.

“Now, this is nice. These things are actually pretty valuable - it’s not everyday you can entrap incubus magic - if you will be good, we might buy you a few toys after we sold them.”

Peter laughed, his chest shaking.

“God knows, it will be hard to satisfy the little bitch after this. Your hole will be too loose for normal fucking.”

Stiles cried quietly, not understanding why his cock felt like he was about come.

“Agreed. But there’s more where this came from, so let’s get to work,” Deaton said.

The rest of the pearls were farther up in his body, and he had to struggle to push them down to his hole. Every time one of them slid past his prostate, there was electric pleasure singing though his veins. 

It was maddening. He didn’t even know what was happening with his body anymore, or why the two men were making him do this. He just wanted… He wasn’t sure what he wanted.

Stiles almost came when the fifth pearl brushed against that spot that lit up his whole body, but Deaton took hold of his cock, and squeezed the base tight.

He shouted, struggling in Peter’s hold. He was feeling dizzy from the need to come, from the pain-pleasure of pushing the pearls out and from simply being completely overwhelmed.

“No, no. No coming yet,” Peter said, after the urge passed and the vet let go of him. “After we’re finished, I will fuck that saggy hole of yours, and fill you up with my come. Then, you will be allowed to come. Understood?”

Stiles turned his head from side to side, out of his mind with sensation.

“Y-yeah. T… Thank you,” he whispered. 

Peter was kind, Peter said, he could come.

“Good boy,” the werewolf said with a chuckle.

Stiles smiled.