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“Jesus, it’s freezing out here,” Tim muttered as he stood shivering in the brightly lit manor steps. It was an hour after sunset, and besides this week’s bondage of a bolero straight jackets keeping their arms wrapped around their chests, none of the players were allowed to wear clothes. “The test hasn’t started yet. Why are they keeping us in suspense like this?”
“Hey, maybe something malfunctioned and we’ll get a break this week,” Steph said cheerfully, tossing her long blonde braid over one shoulder and giving him a wink.
In the six weeks since they’d been here, Steph had become something of a confidant. Funny and clever, she was friendly with more people in the house than most, and her beta energy helped keep the house less rowdy and more congenial. She’d become someone Tim could talk to, joke around with, and trust with his true feelings.
Well, kind of trust. There was no true trust, not at Wayne Manor.
Behind them came a scoff.
“You really think the producers would let something like that happen, Brown?” Damian snapped. “They are obviously hoping to weed out the weak quickly this time around. The only way to keep high ratings is to make sure only the most powerful continue in the competition.”
Tim would never admit it, but until this season, he would have agreed with Damian, bratty upstart of an alpha that he was. Tension was the key to high ratings, and locking a huge group of unmated alphas into a house, cut off from the rest of the world, with a few omegas thrown in the mix was the perfect recipe for conflict.
But then again, after last year’s competition had gone so badly, perhaps they’d realized how even the ratings bump wasn’t worth repeating the lawsuits from the contestants who’d received injuries. The rumor was that the guy who went crazy and started beating people with a crowbar was still locked in an insane asylum.
Steph seemed to be thinking similar thoughts. “I know you’re used to watching this show for the bloodbath,” she said, giving Damian’s shoulder a bump, “but having a couple of betas like me around for stability is not a bad thing.”
Damian grumbled, rolling his eyes, but he didn’t roughly shoulder her away, or, for those he truly hated, lunge straight for the jugular. Believe it or not, but Steph was actually one of the little devil’s favorite people.
Though not his absolute favorite. Tim craned his neck, looking through the crowd.
“Where’s Dick gone?”
Steph frowned. “He’s WoH again. Maybe he took the day off to give the rest of us a shot.”
“Unlikely—”
But Damian's comment was cut off as the lights went out and the clipped, British voice of the Wayne Manor host boomed through the speakers.
“Good evening, contestants,” Alfred said, his tone flat as ever. “This evening’s WoH competition will test your physical endurance against your housemates. As always, good things come to those who wait.”
Tim cursed in his head. He hated orgasm control challenges. He’d much prefer racing to bring someone else to orgasm first, or even straight physical domination challenges.
But he couldn’t afford to phone it in tonight. Winning the weekly Whore of House competition meant being exempt from the next week's elimination. And getting to nominate someone to be voted out of the house. After all, it was how Dick Grayson was still here, despite being such an obvious target. He’d won WoH the first five weeks straight of the competition.
Tim ran through the rest of his housemates in his head. Jason Todd, the stereotypical brick shithouse alpha, actually had relatively low endurance, coming in like an inferno and burning out just as quick. He’d drop early. Steph, bless her, tried her best, but her beta nature just didn’t allow for the ferocity needed to win competitions. Luckily, her easy going nature kept her in the game, but she wasn’t a serious contender.
Damian would be a challenge as always, stubborn asshole that he was, but he also sometimes let his pride trip him up. A couple of annoying comments and he might lose his cool. Helena, too, had a short fuse and a low tolerance for foolishness that worked against her, despite her omega nature.
That left Cass and Duke. Astoundingly, for an omega, Cass was almost unbeatable when it came to pure strength. Tim had no idea what that woman was on but whatever it was, it worked way too well. She didn’t always understand the nuances of conversations, but that wasn’t going to be a hindrance here. And Duke…he was a bit of a wildcard. A young, affable alpha, he seemed the most relaxed about the competition, joking that he was mostly here to make friends. Only, he was still here after six rounds of eliminations, which meant that he had something up his sleeve.
Alfred’s voice sputtered to life again. “Contestants, here is your challenge. Whoever can stay on the wall the longest, wins!”
As he spoke, the previously dark end of the courtyard lit up, revealing a huge wall, set on an elevated platform. A row of silver hooks were set in the wall, each ending with massive, gleaming latex balls the size of a lemon.
Just in case they weren’t clear on what the balls were for, the previously missing Dick Grayson was seated upon the farthest left one. He was wearing the same straight jacket everyone else was, his hands cradling the opposite elbow to neatly frame his pink nipples, but his legs had also been constrained, bent at the knee and ankles tied to his thighs.
All of his weight was clearly resting on the thing in his cunt, his only other stabilization the thick collar around his neck that had been chained to the wall as well, ensuring he wasn’t going to fall off.
“There has been a slight rules change,” Alfred’s voice continued. “Previous Whores of House will no longer be able to compete in the following week’s competition. They will still partake in the test, to give the audience at home a baseline of difficulty.”
He meant, to make it much harder in the rest of them, Tim realized sourly. Without the need to concentrate or regulate his own body, Dick was thrashing on his perch, his beautiful body gleaming in the lights. His scent was so fragrant, they could smell it from across the way. And someone had decided to lock a ring gag between his teeth, ensuring that every sweet moan escaped loud and clear.
Already, proximity to a slicking omega was going straight to Tim’s head. He focused all of his energy on the wall, where a huge countdown was projected.
3…2…1!
All of the contestants took off, racing to claim a hook for themselves. They all wanted to be as far away from Dick as possible, but running was hard barefoot and arm-tied, dicks and pussies exposed to that cold air.
Tim made it to the wall reasonably in the middle of the pack, claiming the hook fourth to the right. He saw immediately what the issue was going to be.
The wall was mounted in some kind of hydraulics. Undoubtedly, they were going to start tilting it forward at some point in the challenge. Without hands, the continents would have to use something else to keep their bodies upright.
Some, like Cass, took the challenge in stride, plopping herself on the knot with ease. Others were more hesitant, Helena and Steph each giving the hook a dubious glance. Duke knelt down and took the knot in his mouth, before he seemed to realize that was a bad idea and reluctantly tried to fit the ball up his ass.
Jason didn’t even try for penetration. He straddled the hook, pressing his thick thighs around the narrow neck behind the plastic knot, his muscles already tensed to hold on for dear life once the tilting began.
Tim took a deep breath, and began bearing down on the ball. It was show policy that everyone be lubed up at all times, but even so, it was slow going, forcing a knot of this size into a passage that wasn’t made for it. He felt a passing resentment for the omegas, who were already seated and looking quite leisurely as they watched everyone else struggle, but it was the nature of the game that certain people had advantages one week versus the next.
Over on the side, Dick let out a particularly loud cry. Tim paused, the knot finally passed the ring of muscles at the entrance to his ass. That sound meant nothing good.
“And your challenge begins…now.”
Alfred’s voice was accompanied by the mechanical whine of the hydraulics starting up. Desperately, Tim ground his hips down, trying to brace his feet as well as he could as the wall began tilting forward, farther and farther, until it felt like gravity was a physical weight on his shoulders, trying to force him to the ground.
Finally, with a final jerk, the mechanics stopped. Tim leaned back as much as he could, his ab muscles and his thighs and his ass working overtime to keep himself from sliding right off the knot.
He had only just caught his breath when Alfred’s voice sounded again.
“Contestants, it’s been 10 minutes—”
Tim’s body went cold with dread. Somehow knowing it had been that little time made everything worse.
“Now, a minute's respite.”
They all groaned again as the wall shifted back to vertical, though there was still enough of a slant to make falling off very possible.
But before Tim could do more than sigh in relief, the knot in his ass started growing. He let out a noiseless sob as it pressed against his insides, sending a fiery jolt through his body.
Around him, his fellow contestants were experiencing much of the same; some crackled with electricity, helplessly shuddered through vibrations, or jerked through a thorough pounding as the knot started pounding into them. Dick, bound without any kind of leverage at all, seemed to be shuddering through a knot that included all three. And between Jason’s legs, his knot was growing visibly smaller, deflating and leaving him nothing to hold on to.
“11 minutes have elapsed,” Alfred said, his voice as monotone as ever. “Remember, we will continue on until only one contestant remains.”
As Tim’s knot finally stopped vibrating just in time for the platform to begin pitching forward again, he prayed to god that it would happen fast.