Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/3937522.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Glee
  Relationship:
      Blaine_Anderson/Kurt_Hummel, Kurt_Hummel/The_Warblers
  Character:
      Kurt_Hummel, Blaine_Anderson, Wes_(Glee), David_(Warbler), Thad_(Glee),
      Sebastian_Smythe, The_Warblers, Trent_(Glee)
  Additional Tags:
      Captivity, Animal_Transformation, Bird/Human_Hybrids, Transformation,
      Cages, Non-Consensual_Body_Modification, Body_Horror, Sexual_Slavery,
      Bondage, Voyeurism, Boypussy, Gangbang, Mpreg, Drugged_Sex, Egg_Laying,
      Feminization
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-05-14 Updated: 2015-09-08 Chapters: 5/? Words: 20878
****** Singing in the Dead of Night ******
by onlyapapermoon
Summary
     It turns out that Pavarotti isn't the only canary the Warblers keep.
     (Please keep the warnings in mind!)
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
***** Chapter 1 *****
Whatever Kurt was lying on, it prickled. He made a muffled noise of protest and
began to roll onto his side, but as he shifted, the sense of something being
wrong began to emerge from the fog of unconsciousness. For some reason, the
discomfort from the cold floor was equally sharp on every inch of his skin –
even where clothing should have dulled it. Kurt’s eyes snapped open.

The situation was not improved by the understanding of it. He really was naked,
and the uncomfortable surface he was laying on was the grating on the floor of
a giant cage. Kurt sat bolt upright and looked around in a panic. The cage
itself was tall and domed, the size of a large room, and it was sitting inside
of an even larger room. There were a few large mirrors on the sides of the cage
and more standing inside of it. Each one taunted him with his own bare,
terrified reflection. There was also something that looked like a ballet barre
bolted to the floor of the cage and a shallow sunken tub in one corner, but
Kurt didn’t bother to examine them in his search for means of escape. Equally
useless were a few unidentifiable machines attached to the cage’s decoratively
wrought bars and a pair of what looked like nicer versions of gym mats on the
floor.

Beyond the bars, a large glass dome directly above the cage gave the expansive
room the look of an open courtyard, though there were no other windows and the
doors leading out of the room were forbiddingly closed. Kurt couldn’t recall
ever being in this room before, but he knew instinctively that he was still
somewhere inside Dalton – honestly, nowhere else in Ohio would incorporate as
much brickwork and wrought iron into its décor.

It took a frenzied minute’s search to even spot the door leading out of the
cage, a minute that had Kurt nearly hyperventilating as he tried to work out
how he’d been brought in and, most importantly, how he could get out. He didn’t
need to search his memory to remember who was responsible, though. Part of him
was still rebelling against that knowledge and he wished he could make-believe
it wasn’t true somehow – this couldn’t have been done by the boys who’d made a
place for him in their prized choir, who’d given him a place to feel safe when
safety was beginning to feel like a foreign concept.

But he remembered all too clearly the odd conversation he’d had with Blaine
about how Kurt still didn’t feel like he fit in with the Warblers, as much as
he liked them all, how Kurt missed getting a chance to stand out individually
or to show off the differences that made him special. Blaine had listened
sympathetically, and waved it off when Kurt realized he’d been rambling and
started blushing and trying to change the subject. At the time, Kurt had been
confused by Blaine’s strange, pointed questions afterwards, about Kurt’s
feelings and what he thought of the Warblers, but he’d been stopped from
interrogating Blaine by the bell for class. It hadn’t been until rehearsal the
next day that Kurt found out what he’d unknowingly given the go-ahead for.
The rehearsal had seemed normal at first. Wes made a few announcements, Thad
read the minutes from the last rehearsal, and Kurt tried to look like he wasn’t
contemplating pulling out his phone if the preliminaries went on much longer.
But instead of the group getting up as usual and pushing the sofas against the
walls at Wes’ signal to begin practice, everyone stayed seated except for
David.

David rose from his chair, prompting a low murmur of excitement from most of
the group, and beamed at the assembled boys. “We have a special announcement to
make today,” he had begun. “Some of you may have already heard this news,
because certain members of the Warblers” here, about half the room and David
sent pointed, laughing looks at Jeff “have issues with the point of a
confidentiality agreement, but we ask that everyone pay attention anyway, even
if they have been spoiled for the outcome.” There was a scattering of good-
natured chuckles and light ribbing directed at Jeff.

Kurt had blankly looked around the room in confusion, then turned to Blaine for
a possible explanation. Blaine had just smiled warmly at him, though, before
giving Kurt’s shoulder a quick squeeze. It seemed more demonstrative than the
moment called for, but Kurt, though blushing like an idiot, wasn’t complaining.

“For the first time in sixty seven years,” David was continuing, “the Warbler
Council has requested permission from the Dalton board for a new Canary – and
the request was granted!” An uncharacteristically enthusiastic cheer rose up,
those who had apparently not been up on the latest gossip taking a second
longer to respond before they joined in raucously. Kurt clapped along for the
sake of politeness despite his confusion, but found himself worrying about
Pavarotti and whether it would mean a change in status for the bird. A faint
buzzing sound came from Kurt’s bag, and he had to tune David out for a quick
moment while he checked the text, only for it to be a warning of having used
half his minutes for the month. Kurt rolled his eyes and vowed to talk to his
dad again about getting a better plan. He tuned back in just in time to hear
“…at the soonest opportunity. Requests will be accepted starting next week,
though those with special clearance will, of course, have full access before
then.”

Completely and utterly lost now, Kurt had started to elbow Blaine impatiently
in the hopes of a recap, but Blaine was just grinning at him. For some reason,
Blaine looked both proud and fond, as if Kurt had just achieved something
wonderful. Kurt glanced around and saw, with growing confusion, that most of
the room was giving him a similar look. He pasted on an awkward smile in
response, but hissed out the side of his mouth, “Blaine! What’s going on, and
why is everyone looking at me?”

Kurt felt Blaine’s hand return to his shoulder. Oddly, Blaine was smiling at
him even more warmly than before, to the point of nearly tearing up. Blaine
squeezed his shoulder again, but only said, “Congratulations, Kurt. It might be
an adjustment at first, but this is a true honor as a Warbler. You’re going to
be so much happier.”

Between the closeness to Blaine and the cryptic words, Kurt was more lost than
ever, but before he could question Blaine or say anything else, there was a
hand on his wrist. Kurt twisted around in surprise. David was there with two
other Warblers; one was responsible for grabbing his arm, while the other was
rolling up Kurt’s blazer and shirt sleeves and David was holding something he
couldn’t quite make out. Kurt’s disbelief and confusion held him in place a
second too long, and that second gave David long enough to hurry forward and
plunge the object – a syringe – into his arm.

Kurt shouted out, but he only had time to yank his arm away and clap a hand
over the injection site before a tingling began to spread from his arm to the
rest of his body. Within seconds, his head was feeling fuzzy and the world
became blurred at the edges and began to tilt. Kurt felt himself going limp and
slumping down against the couch. His last sight was of the Warblers all
standing and cheering like the prep school boys they were, and then his vision
faded to black.
Kurt wished yet again that he’d paid more attention to whatever announcement
had started this whole thing off. Now he was trapped in a human-sized cage at
his own school, and a group of boys he’d considered friends had stripped him
naked before leaving him alone in there.

Absently, Kurt rubbed at the still-sore patch on his arm where the needle had
been jammed in. Now that he was upright, individual aches were becoming more
obvious, and more worrying. A glance downward showed him that he hadn’t
imagined it – the sore spot on his lower abdomen really was home to what looked
like another tiny puncture mark. Almost numb from the bombardment of new
terrors, Kurt glanced at the nearest mirror and twisted around to confirm that,
yes, the similar aches on his lower back, each shoulder, and the nape of his
neck were from yet more injections made while he was unconscious, and so were
the areas of irritation on each ankle.
Kurt clenched his jaw and made himself walk to the cage door. He’d feel
terrible about everything that had happened later, after he’d escaped and
gotten to a doctor to deal with whatever they’d done to him.

Before he’d made it five feet, though, a sharp pain in his ankles dropped Kurt
to his knees. A sound of pain escaped him, and he collapsed into a sitting
position so he could lift a foot and see what was going on.

Nothing seemed wrong, at first. The injection site was redder than before and
more irritated, but there was no sign of a new injury.
Then another round of pain shot through Kurt’s feet and ankles, and this time,
it didn’t stop there. As Kurt watched, his uplifted foot began to twitch and
twist in the air without his consent. To his horror, it began to deform before
his eyes. The skin and muscles where his toes met the rest of the foot began to
recede, making his toes lengthen grotesquely. Something was also going wrong
with his toenails; he could see – and feel - them moving and reshaping until
they were at the tips of his toes and shaped like claws.

Kurt knew that his mouth was hanging open, but he couldn’t let himself shout in
pain or panic for fear of throwing up.

The changes to his feet weren’t stopping. He hadn’t noticed at first, but while
his other toes were lengthening, the smallest one had receded until it was
completely gone, and his heel had also shrunk a tiny bit. Kurt was almost
hoping it was done, but his heel had only stopped changing size to change its
angle with a sickening grind of bone and tendon that made Kurt finally yell
out. When it was done, both his feet were held at an angle that would have
allowed him to walk comfortably on his horrifying new toes, though they still
obeyed his commands and Kurt could still at least move his feet around from
their new angle.

Kurt found himself whimpering and closing his eyes tightly for a second,
wrapping his arms around himself as if it would shield him from the
inexplicable mutations his body was going through. A sudden itch spreading
outward from the tips of his toes made Kurt open his eyes again, though – he
didn’t know what was happening or how to stop it, but he’d at least face it
like a man.

The itching, it turned out, was the result of scales growing to replace the
skin from his new claws inward. Kurt’s breathing turned quick and faint, but he
made himself watch the change progress. His remaining four toes were now nearly
uniform in shape and size, although his big toe was somewhat shorter and, when
the scales had reached up to the new junction of his toes and foot, his big toe
gave another sickening grinding sound as it rotated inward. The change happened
simultaneously to both feet no matter how Kurt tried to flex his toes to go
back to how they were, and by the time it was done, he had three yellow-scaled
toes facing forward, and one backward.

When the scales reached the rest of his foot, they didn’t seem to progress at
first – but only because Kurt’s feet themselves were beginning to lengthen, as
well. The distance between his ankle and toes increased steadily, until it was
nearly the length of his calf, thin and bony and entirely covered in the dull
yellow scales – just like a bird’s foot, Kurt realized with a chill.
The realization sent something cold through Kurt’s entire body. He looked
around frantically, again, and knew with horrible certainty that it was true.
The cage he was in – shaped just like a birdcage. The structure he’d mistaken
for a ballet barre – a perch. The bathtub – a birdbath.

Kurt couldn’t stand up on his new feet, but after a few stumbles, he managed to
get on his hands and knees and crawl to the cage door.

“Help!” he screamed, no longer caring if he drew negative attention instead of
a savior. “Someone, let me out! Help!”

No one came.

There was a prickling along his calves, and Kurt looked down with an
involuntary whimper to see translucent protrusions, things that had to be
feather sheaths, sprouting from his skin along what used to be his ankle, where
scales and human skin met. He had to shout in pain as the sheaths fully
emerged, pushing through his skin. It was over quickly, at least, and the
sheaths were shed within seconds of their appearance. They revealed feathers
that unfurled, scattering the skin of his lower calves with yellow and brown
plumage.

Kurt reached down to touch one of his feathers with morbid curiosity, but
yanked his hand back at the silky feel, confirming the truth of his situation.
His breathing was coming harder now, and sobs threatened. God, he was –
deformed, now, and locked up, and…

His hands tingled, and Kurt knew it still wasn’t over.

He let out another cry and helplessly screamed for someone, anyone to come as
the tingling intensified, and by the time his index and middle fingers began to
lengthen, he was sobbing incoherently.

Kurt tried to hold his hands together in hopes of stopping the change, but all
that achieved was a crunching pain when he tried to squeeze his lengthening
fingers, and he let go, flinging his hands apart with a sobbed shout when his
index and middle fingers snapped together and each pair began to fuse into a
single long finger.

Kurt had to close his eyes now; the sight of his ring and pinky fingers
shrinking into nothing was too much. Still, he could feel the changes
progressing as he held his hands out and away from himself in disgust. His now-
fused fingers had stopped growing and his thumbs had only shrunk slightly, but
he could feel an odd release of pressure where his nail beds were – or, he saw
as he opened his eyes to peek helplessly, where his nails used to be. An odd
tight feeling took over his entire arms, and they began to thin, deforming and
flattening. Kurt closed his eyes again with a whimper.

He knew what was coming next, and it was almost a relief when the pain of
feathers sprouting started; at least he wouldn’t have to look at his alien,
bare arms and hands.

Still, he had to grit his teeth unsuccessfully against a stuttering howl of
pain at the sheaths poking through his skin again. The awful sensation covered
a much larger area than before and it felt as if the sheaths just kept growing
and growing to ridiculous lengths, forcing the process to last far longer than
it had on his legs. When it finally finished, Kurt barely had time to breathe
out before a series of painful snaps jerked his arms into a new position,
realigning his joints. He could actually hear a rustle over his own cry as the
sharp movement freed most of the new feathers at once.
There was a second’s stillness. Kurt, breathing hard, risked opening his eyes
to see what had been done to him.

Sure enough, where his arms had been were a pair of wings, extended as if about
to take flight. He felt faint. When Kurt went to move what had been his right
hand, the end of a wing twitched. He was nearly hyperventilating now as he
stared at the expanse of yellow feathers, broken by a scattering of duller
brown plumes.

Kurt tried to put his hands – wings – on the floor so he could at least try
crawling again before the changes went any further, but his new wings didn’t
bend that way, and it took a second of experimentation to even fold them down
against his sides and out of the way.

A crazy thought whispered to him, and Kurt laboriously extended his new wings
again, and flapped them. Nothing happened. He tried again, harder, but only
generated a strong breeze that whipped his hair around and almost blinded him
with the last bits of dust from the disintegrated feather sheaths.

He coughed and dropped his head. Of course, he thought with another near-
hysterical sob. Why would this change have given him a possible means of
escape?

A tingle at the base of his spine made Kurt moan in pain and disbelief. Wasn’t
what had already happened enough?

This time, the sting of feathers pushing their way out was more concentrated
and went on for even longer, but when it ended, no further changes to the area
were coming. Kurt let out a shaky exhale of relief. It was insane that growing
a tail felt like a reprieve, but it managed to be the least horrifying of his
mutations so far, and Kurt found himself almost glad of it.

Nothing more happened for the moment, and Kurt gathered himself together long
enough to yell, “Help!” again. There was still no response, but he kept trying,
eventually even knee-walking his way over to the bars clumsily and trying to
bang on them with his wings. The movement took an unexpected amount of
experimentation to manage, since his limbs no longer responded the way he
expected, and he found himself sore and exhausted within minutes. A few
feathers lay around him, broken off by the impacts, and he slumped back, only
to jerk up when his bottom came in contact with his sharp-tipped new feet. Kurt
groaned and leaned forward instead to rest his forehead against the bars,
feeling tears of fear and frustration gather in his eyes.

God, what had happened to him?

A familiar tingle started at the nape of his neck.

Kurt jerked upright and stared unseeingly out through the bars. What else was
going to happen to him?

As the tingle intensified, Kurt broke out of his frozen stupor and beat his
wings against the bars again, screaming wildly for help, for escape, anything.
“Please!” he yelled, “Someone, anyone, let me out! Please, oh my god, help me!
Help!” In the middle of a ‘help,’ he felt his voice catch in his throat. He
kept trying, but only a few more words escaped before they started to pitch
higher and shriller. It felt like Kurt’s tongue wasn’t obeying his orders, and
syllables became harder and harder to form.
Kurt couldn’t stop screaming, although the noise no longer sounded human –
something like a bird shrieking was coming from his throat, no matter how he
tried to form words or lower his pitch. The realization that he sounded exactly
like Pavarotti did when spooked sent Kurt into even deeper hysterics, and
feathers swirled around him as he frantically battered himself against the cage
bars.

An accidental turn of his head showed Kurt his reflection in one of the many
mirrors. He screamed again, the sound shrill and panicked, when he realized
that he no longer even looked human – his reflection had always been a familiar
constant from trying on clothes and outfits, critically examining himself from
all angles, but this new appearance was alien. He had the wings, tail, and feet
of a bird – a canary, his mind somewhat hysterically supplied – and now the
voice of one. He broke down into sobs. It sounded more like grieving chirps
now, and hearing himself only made it worse.

There was a feeling of tingling again, this time from just above his pelvis,
and Kurt found himself staring downward in resigned horror, tears splashing
against his belly.

God, he didn’t even know what birds had down there, Kurt realized numbly. The
tingling felt as if it was dropping lower, finally settling in his balls, and
Kurt accidentally made a sound like a bird’s shriek when he saw them starting
to shrink and retract upwards into his body. The skin around them pulled tight,
aiding their disappearance, and it was less than a second before the skin
behind his cock was smooth and pink, with no sign his scrotum had ever existed.
A sharp cramping inside made Kurt curl into himself, but he forced himself to
keep staring blankly down at himself, terrified and somehow too proud to miss
whatever was happening.

While his insides continued to feel like they were churning and pinching, his
soft dick began to ache strangely. It started with another tightening of the
skin where the base met his body, but then Kurt had to watch as his dick began
to shrink, droplets hitting it and rolling off as tears dripped from his
unblinking eyes. Soon, it was nearly flat against his skin – but then things
became even stranger, because the area around his cock was altering, too,
lifting into soft mounds on either side, filling the small space between his
legs. Kurt could feel the process continuing farther back and out of his sight,
and when he shifted his knees apart a little, he could see that the pair of
mounds extended back towards his butt, and seemed pinker on the insides. His
cock had almost entirely disappeared now, except for some odd protuberance
where it had shrunk into, and there was a sharp pinch from near there for a
second… And Kurt drew in a sharp whistling breath through his teeth as he
caught glimpse of something like a very small recess into his body, and
realized what the change had been. He’d never seen in person, and had looked
away when the other boys tried to share around their pictures, but – oh god
that made no sense… A bird’s shriek rebounded off the walls again.
***** Chapter 2 *****
Kurt was still staring at the changed anatomy between his legs when the sound
of a door opening shattered the silent isolation of the room. His head shot up
to see who the intruders were as he automatically went to cover himself – his
clumsiness with his new wings, though, meant that he could only extend them
forward and down to hide his nakedness from whoever it was, still leaving him
mostly exposed.

It was a surprise, although Kurt knew it shouldn’t be, when David walked in,
then Wes and Thad. Even though he knew he should have expected it, it was still
even more crushing when, a long second later, Blaine followed them in.

Kurt caught himself giving an alarmed chirp at the first arrivals, but was able
to bite back any of the other birdlike sounds that wanted to escape his throat
– just seeing his (former) friends in his current, degraded state was a
humiliation like Kurt could never have imagined. He wished he could stand up
and meet them with as much dignity as possible, but his new feet and unhelpful
wings wouldn’t let him, and he wasn’t willing to let them see his stumbling
attempts. He settled for at least lifting his head as proudly as he could,
sniffing away the tears a little.

The Council and Blaine were all smiles as they approached, though, looking at
him with genial approval, even though Kurt was sending them as fierce and
haughty a look as he could muster. When Wes produced a key from his blazer
pocket and proceeded to open the cage door, it became obvious that they weren’t
just there to gawk, and Kurt decided that he couldn’t meet them sitting down.

Kurt did his best to struggle to his feet after all, still trying to shield
himself with his wings. It was ungainly at best– his balance was thrown all off
and his feet seemed to have a mind of their own, wanting to grip onto the bars
below him every time his ankle bent in certain ways. Still, Kurt felt better
for trying, especially now that he could face the approaching Warblers eye to
eye, even if trying to stand was leaving him swaying a little.

Kurt automatically opened his mouth to demand an explanation for what had
happened, momentarily forgetting the extent of the changes, and a series of
angry cheeps left his throat instead. The other boys stopped walking a few feet
from him and looked pleased at this. Blaine even nodded his approval and
finally spoke up, saying to the others, “Didn’t I say his voice would be
fantastic? He sounds beautiful.”

There was a stab of hurt at that and Kurt snapped his mouth shut in
mortification. For the first time, he felt deep shame for his own voice, and he
wished it was possible to curl up and hide.

Wes nodded in solemn approval. “You were right, of course.” He ran his gaze
over all of Kurt, not sparing between his legs, although Kurt fluttered his
wings in front of himself and pressed his thighs together in burning
humiliation, as if it would help. Wes finally looked over to Thad and noted,
“The entire change went even better than we expected. We’ll need to send a
report to the headmaster soon, he’ll be glad to hear it.”

“Are you ready?” David’s question to Wes cut off Kurt’s new source of alarm –
how deep did this conspiracy he was caught in really go? – and gave him
something entirely new to worry about as Wes replied, “Of course,” and Thad
pulled something metallic out of the messenger bag slung over his shoulder.

Kurt tried to back away, but only got two steps before he stumbled. He expected
to hit the floor hard and his wings flew out automatically as if to catch him,
but someone caught him instead.
He was too stunned to twist away for a second, unprepared for the sudden impact
of warm cloth against his bare skin. In that fraction of a second, though, his
‘rescuer’ was able to fold his wings back down towards his sides again, and a
second person arrived in almost the same moment to hold Kurt’s wings pressed
tight to his body. That was all the time Kurt needed to regain his faculties,
and he began to thrash in the person’s – David’s – hold.

Before he could get away, the second arrival – Wes – was moving too fast to
escape from, and Wes was slipping a leather belt of some kind around his wings
and chest. Kurt tried to slip out of the loop’s encirclement, but was
restrained by David’s arms tightening around him. Then the leather belt was
tightening, too, as Wes pulled it snug around Kurt’s wings, the leather
pinching and disordering feathers as it constricted over them. Just when Kurt
was beginning to fear for his breathing in addition to his freedom, Wes
fastened off the belt. It was an ordinary buckle, but Kurt glared at it,
feeling a pulse of mixed frustration and despair as he realized he could have
easily undone it an hour ago, but that he no longer had the hands to manage a
simple fastening.

David held him tightly in place even as Wes backed off, but the best Kurt could
do was squirm around, the band around his wings and middle holding his mutated
limbs secure and useless. David didn’t seem to be tiring, but at least didn’t
seem to care that he had Kurt’s bare ass pressed against his uniform slacks,
either, and Kurt took it as a tiny mercy that at least none of the boys had
looked at his now-exposed genitals with any real interest since they’d first
seen his changed form.

Kurt was jerked from his thoughts a few moments later, when Wes came forward
again with Thad. Running out of options and energy, Kurt kicked out at them as
best he could, hoping to at least tear at their uniforms with his new talons or
scare them back. He didn’t want to know what new humiliation they had planned.
Thad did jump back a little, but Wes ducked out of the way and grabbed his
ankle in a move that would have jerked Kurt off his feet if he hadn’t been held
forcibly upright by David.

Kurt found himself breaking the self-assurances he’d made and tweeting shrilly
in protest, but his bird sounds were ignored. Thad reached into his messenger
bag and produced the same metallic object as before. It appeared to be a three-
inch-long pipe of some thick metal, cut in half lengthwise. The diameter was
very small, too narrow to even fit a slim person’s wrist, and for the moment,
Kurt had no clue what they planned on doing with it, although it could be
nothing good. A second later, though, the small diameter made perfect sense,
Kurt realized through his growing panic, because Thad was carefully holding it
up against Kurt’s ankle and the new lower part of his leg was definitely thin
enough to fit neatly inside. Kurt tried to kick his foot away, or slip out of
David’s grasp, but Wes just grunted with effort as he tightened his two-handed
grip on his leg. David also tightened his arms to keep him in place, making
soothing noises all the while as if dealing with a frightened animal.

Thad reached one-handed into his bag again and produced a second metal piece
like the first – the second half of what had to be a cuff for his ankle, Kurt
realized. This one had a half-circular loop attached to the outside, and Kurt
had no interest in learning why that was. After quickly scanning the object,
Thad nodded in satisfaction, then lined it up with the first half and pressed,
closing the circle securely around Kurt’s ankle. Kurt was vaguely aware that he
was full-on shrieking now, but there was no reaction other than from Blaine
joining in David’s shushing, which still wasn’t enough to drown out the click
as the two metal pieces joined together. There was another metallic click as
Thad did something with the cuff that made a vibration run through it, giving
an awful sort of finality to the sound.
Thad tugged at the cuff a few times, then pulled experimentally at the welded-
on loop, but it seemed secure. Kurt had a terrible feeling, between the
clicking and Thad’s reaction, that the band was meant to be a permanent
addition, and he was still caught up in looking vainly for a means of removing
it when Thad finally let go of the cuff. Wes followed up by letting go of
Kurt’s leg, as well, and the surprise was such that Kurt just let it fall,
unprepared for the new weight of metal above his foot.

When he saw Wes crouching to reach for his other foot, though, Kurt was more
prepared and drew it back, doing his best to jerk it back and around, out of
Wes’s reach. David was ready, too, though, and constantly maneuvered his legs
behind Kurt so that he couldn’t pull his foot far enough out of range, and Wes
was finally successful in capturing Kurt’s other foot after a minute’s
struggle. At least the fight had leave Wes with a few scratches on his hands
and arms, and Kurt, while normally not inclined to violence, was able to feel
some faint pride.

This time, Kurt couldn’t make himself watch, so he turned his head away and
closed his eyes, wishing he could also block out his hearing and sense of
touch. As it was, he was still forced to endure the feeling of cold metal
resting against, and then totally surrounding, the scales of his new lower
legs. The sound of the two awful clicks again made the cold feeling in the pit
of his stomach sink even lower, and the cold weight around his ankle signaled
the second band was also fastened in place for good.

“All done!” Thad said, with far too much enthusiasm. Kurt cracked his eyes open
and lowered his foot back to the ground, unsure of what was coming next. Wes
stood up and brushed himself off primly.
Kurt felt himself sagging down in David’s hold – he’d nearly exhausted himself
struggling.

“Hey,” someone said near him, and Kurt turned his head wearily to see Blaine
looking at him with a wry smile. “I’m sorry about the change to your – you
know.” Blaine gestured downward vaguely, and Kurt found that he could still
blush fiercely, despite the situation. “You should know that we took a vote
while you were out. I promise I convinced a majority to let you keep your
manhood at first. If Thad hadn’t split the vote by adding ‘cloaca’ to the
ballot…” Blaine sent a pointed look over his shoulder at the Warbler in
question.

Thad stopped looking pleased and crossed his arms with a dramatic huff. “It
wasn’t my fault that not enough of the Warblers would commit to the stated
avian theme of a ‘Warbler transformation.’ If we could have agreed to uphold
the authenticity of the tradition, instead of-”

He was cut off by David shaking his head from behind Kurt and firmly stating,
“Thad, no one was comfortable with the idea of a cloaca except you. Absolutely
no one.”

“Will you all stop saying that word?” Wes interjected.

“What, ‘cloaca’?” David said, grinning.

Thad had stepped closer to apologize to Blaine for the result being
unsatisfactory and insisted he had only wanted to find a pleasing compromise
that would both make Blaine comfortable and uphold the will of the group vote,
but Kurt put his head down dully and tried to ignore David’s hold, as
unbreakable around him as another cage. He tuned out both Thad and the friendly
ribbing that had broken out between Wes and David, the former already
threatening to send copies of the latter’s childhood pictures to his
girlfriend. It had been so familiar for a second that Kurt nearly wanted to
turn and share an amused look with Blaine, before he remembered that he wasn’t
sharing a loveseat with his friend and waiting for rehearsal to start.

A hand brushed through his hair and Kurt startled, too surprised to jerk away.
Blaine was still nodding along in a familiar dealing-with-Thad way, but he’d
turned away long enough to start petting Kurt’s hair.

Blaine frowned when Kurt finally did flinch away, but just reached a bit
further to soothingly stroke Kurt’s bangs back into their usual swoop.

Kurt thought about trying to escape again, but he was still too exhausted to
move, so he had to just let Blaine give him a final pat on the cheek before he
turned back to talk to Thad.
The constant chatter faded into meaningless background noise as Kurt stared
into nothingness. David’s body behind him and arms around him had Kurt feeling
uncomfortably heated, but he was already forgetting to notice the sensation of
cloth and his own feathers against his bare skin. He wondered if this was
permanent – the way the others were treating him didn’t imply a temporary
status as some kind of pet, but he had to hope…

“Anyway!” Wes’s sharp voice cut through Kurt’s thoughts and the ongoing
conversations. “Voting results aside, we have a job to do. David?”

“Spoilsport,” David mock-grumbled, but nodded to Wes and abruptly began to haul
Kurt in the direction of the large perch.

Kurt was too startled to move at first, but soon tried to halt their progress
by digging his feet in and clinging to the bars on the floor. He didn’t know
what they had planned, but he was certain it wouldn’t be pleasant. David
grunted with effort and tried to lift Kurt up and out of contact with the bars,
but Kurt hung on gamely with his mutated feet. It took the assistance of Wes
and Blaine to lift one of his feet each, and he was carried kicking and
squalling for the last ten feet.

Kurt was determined to keep up the fight, so when his feet were lowered to the
floor again, he tried to curl his toes inward to prevent them from gripping the
bars, straining against Wes and Blaine’s holds all the while.

He wasn’t prepared for Thad coming up to his side and kneeling beside Wes – at
first, he thought that Thad was just going to help Wes hold him for whatever
they had planned, but when Thad reached into his bag again, Kurt remembered his
ankle bands. In a quick movement, Thad had clipped one end of a short chain to
the ring of the ankle band, and was attaching the other end to the nearest
intersection of floor bars.

Kurt shrieked at the additional restraint, and was ignored. Thad and Wes both
stood, watching with obvious satisfaction as Kurt tried to kick out, but found
his foot immobilized. He tried frantically to pull his other foot away from
Blaine’s hold before they could repeat the process, but Thad was already
crossing over behind him and kneeling down with a second chain in his hand.
Meanwhile, David was trying to shush him again and Wes was standing back and
watching as Thad clipped the second chain to Kurt’s other ankle band, then the
floor, holding him firmly in place with his legs splayed far beyond shoulder-
width apart.

If he still had his human voice, Kurt would be demanding that they stop, that
they tell him what the hell they were doing. As it was, the only things
escaping his mouth were inhuman chirps and screeches.

For whatever reason, the council and Blaine had arranged Kurt facing the large
perch, which came up to just below his midriff. A small, hysterical part of
Kurt’s mind wondered how he was supposed to get up on the thing without a
stepladder. He also wondered why they thought he’d ever be resigned enough to
take advantage of it like a real bird would.
From behind him, David loosened his grip. Kurt tried to twist free completely,
but soon realized that, with his ankles restrained, he had nowhere to go.
Seeming to sense Kurt’s hesitation, David’s hands were suddenly on his back,
pushing him gently but firmly forward. Kurt tried to resist, to no avail, and
he found himself being bent over the perch – although, through a sudden new
wave of panic, Kurt suspected it might not be meant as a perch after all.

Kurt tried to squirm away again, but it was still no use. Wes had come in front
of him at some point, and was aiding David by tugging his torso farther down
and forward by the band constricting his wings. Once Kurt’s body was bent over
the bar at more than a ninety-degree angle, tail in the air and blood rushing
to his head, Thad was there with another chain, this one longer than the first
pair, and clipped it from the leather band to the floor.

When all the Warblers stepped away, there was nothing Kurt could do, no way to
move out of the position he was forced into. A light movement of air between
his legs made Kurt newly, intensely aware of his nudity. He was bent over the
bar in such a way that his ass and altered genitals were completely exposed by
his spread legs, and the shame of it made Kurt nearly dizzy.

“Blaine, would you like to start?” someone said behind him, out of Kurt’s
vision, and the position and vulnerability had Kurt afraid in a way he hadn’t
been since he found himself naked in the first place.

“Are you sure?” Blaine was saying, taken aback. “I thought it was tradition
that only the Council could be first to perform the honors.”

There was a second’s pause before Wes, Thad, and David were all objecting,
variations on, “Well, yes, but this isn’t technically a ‘first’ according to
the guidelines,” and “True, but you’ve been such a help,” and “This is
technically a continuation of the preparations, not a ‘first,’ as such.”

Through the terror, Kurt managed to almost roll his eyes. Some things, it
seemed, never changed.
“Alright,” Blaine finally said, his voice humbly pleased. “Thad, could I have
the…”

There was a moment of quiet shuffling, and Kurt found himself straining his
neck to try and see what was happening behind him. His own body blocked his
view, though, and all he could make out beyond the yellow feathers was a blur
of Dalton uniforms.

There was a snick, a pause, and then something firm and cold was touching his
ass. Kurt jolted, but the sensation just stayed there and a warm hand was laid
on his lower back to the side of his tail, just resting there in what was
probably meant to be a soothing gesture.

Kurt made a noise that was meant as a whine of terror and discomfort, but came
out as a quiet chirp.

Blaine shushed him gently, and the finger at his ass – at least Kurt guessed
that’s what it was – was moving, rubbing wetness around his asshole. Kurt tried
to squirm away, but bound as he was, the most he could do was wiggle his tail
in the air. Blaine just pushed down gently on his lower back, making movement
more difficult, and persisted in making hushing noises as his finger drew
firmer and firmer circles.

Kurt could feel his face burning. His… hole was beginning to relax slightly
under the ministrations. It was a foreign feeling – he’d never felt really
comfortable touching himself there, though he was vaguely aware it was a thing
some men did, and he’d assumed none of it would matter until college, anyway.
He pushed the thought of college away determinedly and promised himself,
through new levels of humiliation, that he’d get through this.

He chirped again in shocked alarm when Blaine’s finger slipped to the center of
the ring of muscles and dipped in, and he tightened around it involuntarily.

“Hey, just relax,” Blaine soothed him. “You can do this. Just calm down and
don’t tense up, and it’ll be done before you know it.”
Kurt made a face at that, despite everything. There was no way he was making
this easier.

The finger withdrew, only to be replaced by something cold, smoother, and
larger pushing in, and Kurt changed his mind about making it easier. The object
was pushing in with implacable steady pressure, and tensing just made it hurt.

Kurt clenched his jaw and battled the embarrassment and shame to relax his
muscles, allowing the object to slip inside. It wasn’t much wider than Blaine’s
finger had been, thankfully, and it narrowed after a second, forcing his ass to
clench down securely around it as a much wider, flat base settled in place
against his skin on the outside.
Kurt was vaguely aware of Blaine stepping away, leaving the plug stuck inside
him.

The sensation of being stretched was impossible to ignore, but its importance
faded a little into the background when someone stepped around in front of him.
Kurt craned his neck up awkwardly to see who it was. He immediately turned his
face away to the side and snapped his eyes shut, though, when he was met with
the sight of David undoing his fly. Kurt wasn’t even allowed the comforting
thought of this can’t be happening, because something terrible was already
happening to him, and there was no indication the council had any intention of
stopping.

There was a warm hand gripping his chin, and Kurt tried to resist its pull.
“Come on,” David was saying in a gentle, would-be calming voice. “Come on, you
can do it.”

Someone behind him flicked at the base of the plug without warning, and the
jolt in his ass startled Kurt enough that David was able to overcome Kurt’s
resistance. He easily maneuvered Kurt so that his face was inches from David’s
crotch, his shallow panicky breaths landing on David’s half-hard cock where it
was hanging out of the undone uniform trousers.

“See, you can be good, can’t you?” David hummed. He made no move to bring his
dick any closer, though Kurt kept his eyes and mouth closed tight just in case.
“Just open your mouth, alright? That’s all, open up and be nice, no biting.”
David’s thumbs were stroking Kurt’s cheeks as he held his head in place. Kurt
was, in fact, thinking very fondly of biting.

One of the boys behind Kurt started scratching lightly at the base of his tail,
and Kurt startled a little, but refused to open his mouth. “Come on,” Blaine
coaxed from somewhere to the side, “you’ll like it if you try it.” The hand
moved on to stroking Kurt’s tail feathers from their root toward the tips, then
returned to petting where feathers met skin. It felt almost pleasant, but Kurt
bit his lips from the inside and tried to focus on the sharp pinch instead.

“Didn’t we turn down the option of a beak so he could do that?” Thad
complained. “I still think it would have been more appropriate if he’d been
given one.”

“Alright, then.” Wes sighed, then seemed to lean closer, his brisk, but not
unkind voice coming from nearer to Kurt’s ear. “Thad is right. There is a
suggestion in the Warblers’ charter that the new Canary be given a beak, but
the headmaster confirmed that we could use our discretion. A lack of
cooperation now will be taken as confirmation that you would have liked the
change to go farther, and we will let you have a beak after we’re done today. “

“I hope he decides quickly,” David said softly to the others – although Kurt
could still hear him quite easily, he was still there, thank you. “I’m, ah,
getting a little cold here.” There were some suppressed chuckles all around.

Kurt bit his lips harder for a second. He didn’t have to – he could get out of
doing that, at least, if he just refused now. He’d never have to do it in the
future. But the price… Kurt shuddered.

He wasn’t sure if it was pride, vanity, or desperation to keep every bit of
humanity he had left, but Kurt slowly opened his mouth.

Thad gave a celebratory whoop, Blaine patted him on the lower back, and Wes
hummed approvingly. David said, through what was clearly a warm smile, “Oh, you
are being good, aren’t you?”
A second passed, then there was a brush of warm skin against Kurt’s lips. He
startled, forgetting to keep his eyes closed for a second. What he saw was
David’s crotch, crowded into his field of vision, and a nest of dark hair
around the base of another boy’s penis – the first he’d seen. He couldn’t see
much of it, and shut his eyes again too quickly to get a good look, but that
didn’t matter because it was already pushing its way between his lips. It was
strange – the closest comparison he had was a dentist’s fingers invading his
mouth, but this was softer-textured, hotter, and not at all covered in latex.

David was humming something encouraging at him. Whoever was petting his tail
was back at it, too.

The dick in his mouth wasn’t fully hard yet, and though Kurt tried to keep his
mouth open wide enough that it touched him as little as possible, David was
moving it around, rubbing it against the insides of his cheeks and his tongue,
filling his mouth hot and earthy and salty. Soon enough, it was thickening and
hardening, taking up more of his mouth until Kurt’s jaw ached from trying to
keep it open enough.

“Okay, here we go,” David said softly. He let go of his dick with the one hand
and went back to a two-handed grip on Kurt’s head, palms hot against Kurt’s
cheeks and thumbs brushing gently along his cheekbones. He used his grip to
press lightly against Kurt’s jaws, forcing him to close his mouth a little.
Kurt jumped when his lips came in sudden contact with skin sliding over hard
flesh, but remembered to not bite down, no matter how much his mind screamed at
him to do so.

After a second of just holding the contact, David pulled his hips back,
dragging his cock out through the press of Kurt’s lips, then pushed back in,
rubbing against his tongue all the way. David groaned deep in his chest. “Oh
God, yes, you’re so good.” He shuddered a little and repeated the motion. “So,
so good,” he murmured.

Kurt tried to will himself away, pretend he was elsewhere. The smell of musk
and sweat and soap followed him, though, kept him grounded as surely as his
bindings and useless wings, and he had nothing to concentrate on but the drag
and grind of the cock between his lips. He was humiliatingly aware of the boys
behind him and how they could see every bit of his privates and, if they cared
to lean forward, the spit beginning to gather at the corners of his mouth and
drip down his chin as David thrust in and out of his mouth.
It went on and on and on for an eternity, and Kurt’s world slowly narrowed down
to nothing but the hard flesh invading his mouth and the scent of boy invading
his nose. The taste of skin and cock overpowered his senses as Kurt found
himself almost drifting in the overwhelming sensation of the rhythmic thrusts.
There were sounds, too, the rustle of cloth and occasional groans from above
and idle words from behind, but they mattered less than even the hands
clutching at his face, let alone the endless drag of wet skin against his lips
and tongue.

There was a sharp grunt from above Kurt’s head, and he was jerked to full
awareness by the tightening grip around his face and a stutter of David’s hips.
A series of quick, “uh, uh, ah” accompanied the sudden faster movements, and
one particular thrust went too deep, making Kurt’s throat spasm and gag, but
then David’s cock was pulling back and jerking shallowly into his mouth,
quicker than Kurt would have thought possible.

The tight grasp of David’s hands made it impossible to pull back or turn away,
and Kurt had no choice but to stay still and take it as a sudden salty flood
filled his mouth, spattering over his tongue and into his throat.

He wanted to pull away and cough, but David was still groaning and jerking his
hips weakly. Then Kurt’s face was being tugged closer, his mouth stretched wide
around almost the base of David’s dick, just short of Kurt’s gag reflex.
David’s cock twitched a few more times and there was more wetness filling
Kurt’s mouth, and then David sighed and all the tension seemed to leave his
body.

Kurt stayed frozen where he was, eyes still clenched shut. He could feel
David’s hot come filling his mouth and making him want to spit, but he was
unsure if he would be punished for it. A trickle was already escaping from the
corner of his spit-soaked mouth.

“God, that was amazing,” David sighed, blissed-out and possibly unaware that he
was talking.

Then one of David’s slackened hands left Kurt’s cheek and dipped down to brush
lightly over his throat. Kurt startled, but was held in place by David’s other
hand and hips. “Come on,” David murmured. “You can do it, you’ve been so good…”

Kurt squeezed his eyes shut even harder, holding back the sudden urge to cry.
David’s hand stroked his neck a few more times, off rhythm with the hand still
stroking gently at his lower back. Kurt swallowed.

When David finally pulled back and let go of Kurt’s head, Kurt took a gasping
breath and tried not to retch at the overwhelming taste of semen still filling
his mouth. He hung his head down and pressed his lips together again. When his
eyes cracked open, he could see the drips of clear and translucent liquid dewed
on the bars below, and felt his stomach churn a little. He could hear and feel
the vibrations of David doing up his fly and walking around to join the others,
but Kurt couldn’t bring himself to do more than hang limply in his bonds and
try not to spit until his mouth felt clean again.
“Second one?” he heard someone say, and a jolt of nervousness went through him.
He didn’t like the way that sounded.

Sure enough, the hand that had been petting him left off and there was a
shuffle of feet behind him. Then the plug in his ass was being gripped at the
base and tugged. Kurt let out a squawk of surprise and his head shot up in
alarm, but the plug was already being dragged out, stretching him wider and
wider around its middle and then diminishing in width until he could feel his
hole clenching embarrassingly around nothing at all. The sudden empty feeling
was unnerving, but not nearly so much as the feeling of something new brushing
at him there a second later. It was hard and slick and unliving like the first
plug, but, from the first push in, he could tell it was wider.

Kurt fought with his instinct to clench down and keep it out. It seemed like
the Warblers didn’t want to damage him, but that only meant they’d go slow if
he resisted, and probably subject him to some new humiliation in order to coax
this larger plug in.

Cheeks burning, Kurt gritted his teeth and relaxed as much as his churning
emotions would allow. He stayed still as the plug grew thicker and thicker in
width, stretching his muscles more than they’d ever gone before, then abruptly
narrowing. Kurt felt the cool, smooth base of the plug coming to rest snugly
against his skin and knew it was finally done, although even the narrowest
point of the base was stretching his ass as much as the widest part of the
first plug.

Kurt had to take a few deep breaths to keep from instinctively clenching down
hard and hurting himself. It just felt so big - he was fairly sure he knew what
they were getting that part of him adjusted for, but there was a faint,
hysterical part of him that worried they were going to force him to lay eggs or
something worse, and was almost relieved to think of the more likely option.

“Wes?” someone said behind him, and he could hear the Warblers shuffling
around.

Blaine walked into his peripheral vision and crouched down at his side,
carefully avoiding the bits of spit and come on the floor bars. “Hey there,” he
said, smiling.

Kurt tried not to look at him, even when Blaine’s smile grew a bit rueful and
he began stroking Kurt’s back gently. “I know it’s a lot of new things all at
once, but you’ll get used to it soon, I know you will.”

There was the sound of a zipper and a rustle of cloth, and Kurt tensed. Blaine
kept petting him, but Kurt couldn’t focus on that at all because there was a
sudden unnerving sensation between his legs – something big and blunt and wet
was nudging at his new opening, pushing between the folds of skin and rubbing
there.

Kurt froze, then instinctively tried to jerk his legs together. The bonds on
his ankles dug into his scales and kept his legs spread wide apart. Blaine
shook his head fondly and kindly advised him, “Relax again, it’ll be fine.”

As far as Kurt was concerned, though, nothing was fine, because the thing
between his legs – Wes’ cock, his brain supplied, but the rest of him rebelled
at the obvious – was rubbing harder now, and Wes was making a quiet sound that
was either a hum or a moan.

A hand on his tail was tugging gently at the feathers and making him angle his
ass even higher into the air, and then there was a blunt pressure between his
legs that increased steadily until, accompanied by a sharp pain, Kurt could
feel it pushing inside him.
Kurt chirped frantically, unable to process the alien sensation – this wasn’t
something he had any comparison for, and he could feel his mind trying to
reject the knowledge that something was stretching him from the inside, making
its way into his body and filling him so much that he was vaguely afraid it
would tear him open. But the pain receded a little as Wes pulled out for a
moment, and Kurt started to breathe again until he pushed back in. This time
hurt, too, but it was more of a sting of the skin around his… opening, and less
of a fear of being rent in half.

Each thrust went a little deeper than the last, and soon enough Kurt could feel
the skin of Wes’ hips brushing against his on some thrusts in. Wes’ cock was
farther inside than Kurt would have thought possible, pushing its way in deep
in a steady rhythm.

Kurt was hanging in his bonds with his mouth half-open, unaware that huffs of
air and cut-off tweets were escaping him with each thrust. Blaine kept petting
his back, occasionally reaching over to stroke a wing feather back down when
the band’s jolting knocked it out of place. Somewhere behind them, Thad and
David were having a quiet conversation about an English assignment.

A thrust stuttered unexpectedly, and Wes grunted, then sped up.

Kurt jerked against his bonds at the sudden change in rhythm – instead of deep
and slow, Wes’ thrusts were speeding up and shallowing, until Wes was
jackrabbiting his cock into Kurt’s body. He’d moved his hands so that his grip
on Kurt was now a hand on each hip, fingers digging in and keeping Kurt firmly
in place.

Even with Wes’ secure grip, Kurt still found himself being knocked forward with
each thrust before being jerked back onto Wes’ cock, in such rapid succession
he almost felt like he was vibrating. The friction and drag on his new entrance
and on the flesh surrounding Wes’ cock inside was enough to overwhelm nearly
anything else. Kurt wasn’t aware of the low trills that were beginning to issue
from his throat with the rapid fucking, but Blaine heard them and smiled
fondly, signaling to David and Thad until they stopped to listen. Thad made a
victorious fist-pumping gesture.

The fast thrusting went on and on and Kurt found himself unconsciously backing
up into the thrusts, chasing a sensation he wasn’t even positive that he liked,
though he did know that he wanted it for some reason – he needed it to keep
building and growing, winding something up tight inside him.

Rational thought slipped completely away when one of Wes’ hands left Kurt’s hip
and reached between Kurt’s legs to rub just in front of where his cock was
splitting Kurt open.

If the band around his wings hadn’t been chained to the floor, Kurt might have
arched completely upright. Unfamiliar pleasure surged through his whole body,
and all three sets of chains rattled as Kurt writhed against Wes’ hand,
unknowingly letting out quavering trills and warbles.
The pace of Wes’ rubbing and thrusts increased until Kurt felt like he was
going to vibrate out of his own skin. Though he tried to grasp at passing
thoughts, he couldn’t concentrate on anything beyond the sensation of pleasure
running liquid through his veins, something hot winding and building at his
core. Finally, something in Kurt snapped and he distantly heard himself let out
a melodic cry as his entire body spasmed.

He was still jerking and shivering when Wes’ thrusts stuttered, and didn’t have
the balance to resist the few hard thrusts that pushed him up painfully against
the bar, Wes grinding in deep on the last one with a loud exhale.

Kurt’s mind was still whirling in a haze of confusion and the aftershocks of
pleasure, but he slowly came back to himself enough to notice when Wes finally
pulled out. The cold air chilled him where Wes had been standing a second ago,
the chill making him suddenly, uncomfortably aware of some kind of wetness
smeared around his new opening and down his thighs.

It was hard to tell with the blood running to his head anyway, but Kurt thought
he flushed in further humiliation.

Blaine was still petting him despite it all, murmuring warm approval to him.

The murmurs stopped for a second, though the gentle strokes didn’t, when Blaine
shifted in his crouch and turned over his shoulder to ask, “It’s Thad’s turn,
right?”

Feet shuffled on the floor bars behind Kurt, sending mild vibrations through
the entire cage, and Thad, closer now than he’d been with David earlier,
responded enthusiastically, “Of course. I took the precaution of bringing the
exact amount of lubricant specified in the charter, so -”

Thad was cut off by David’s incredulous, “The exact amount? Did you dole it out
with a measuring cup?”

Blaine blinked. “Thad, didn’t we agree that amount seemed excessive?”

“I’m just following the regulations,” Thad said, sounding defensive. “Certainly
you wouldn’t want to take any risks, either?”

“Will you just get on with it?” Wes’ voice was still a little husky, but he
sounded far more coherent already than Kurt felt.

There were scattered, somewhat sheepish murmurs of “Right, right,” all around,
and the floor creaked behind Kurt.
A brush of air was all the warning Kurt had before there were fingers gripping
at the base of the plug in his ass and tugging. He gritted his teeth and tried
to relax against it, the base widening and flaring his ass open. It wasn’t
quite as painful as it had been going in, and Kurt tried to take that as a
small blessing as it reached its widest point, then narrowed and receded,
before the whole thing was pulled out with a humiliating sound.

There was some more shuffling as the plug was presumably handed off or set
down, then there was the sound of a container opening and some slick sounds.
The slippery squishing noises continued for a good few moments. Farther away,
David sighed in what sounded like resignation.

Finally, Kurt felt a hand, still a little wet, land on the tensed skin over his
hip.

“Shh, relax,” Blaine soothed, rubbing briskly over his shoulder blades.

Kurt felt like he had run out of energy to panic, so there was only a brief
burst of fear when the head of Thad’s cock nudged at his asshole.

It was bigger and blunter than the plugs had been, so there was still a sting
when it pressed and pressed and finally pushed inside – after a few false
starts when it slipped down or aside, instead. The copious lube did make the
slide easier once it was in, though, awkward squishing sounds aside. Thad
groaned and jerkily pulled back a little after the first few inches, the head
of it pulling Kurt a little more open again before the whole thing was plunged
back in.

Kurt hung limply and let himself be rocked by the thrusts, a rhythm having been
established very quickly. There was a faint, confusing pleasure in being so
full, but Kurt tried to ignore it. He’d expected it to hurt far more, but the
stretching had prepared him enough that all he could really notice was the
foreign ache of fullness and the slippery barely-there friction of Thad’s cock
pumping in and out. It was harder to ignore the occasional tingles that ran
through his entire body every so often when Thad plunged in at just the right
angle, and he found himself letting out soft chirrups at those moments.

Thankfully, though, Thad seemed more interested in completing his task as a
Council member and less interested in Kurt’s reactions, so Kurt was able to
mostly let his mind drift away, his eyes staring unfocused at the walls beyond
bars, only jerked back to reality by the occasional pulses of pleasure.

Wes and David were having their own conversation, Blaine chipping in a thought
every so often as he idly petted Kurt’s swaying body.

Kurt almost missed it when Thad finished, so he startled a little when Thad
stopped moving, then withdrew from him without warning. He squawked a little in
surprise, but no one acknowledged him, seemingly caught up in teasing Thad
about how abruptly he’d finished and Thad blustering in his own defense.
“Would you undo those clips, Blaine?” David asked after a minute of the
friendly ribbing, still chuckling, as he knelt down just behind Kurt and
unclipped one of the chains connecting Kurt’s ankle bands to the floor. Blaine
nodded and got to work undoing the chain that kept Kurt bent forward. When all
the chains had been unclipped from the cage bars and from his bonds, Kurt
stayed where he was for a moment, shocked and sore and unsure if he was even
allowed to move.

Blaine chuckled fondly, though, and stood, handing off the length of chain to
Thad before reaching down and wrapping his arms around Kurt’s chest to heft him
up into a standing position. “See, that wasn’t so bad,” he said, wiping the
remaining tear tracks and spit from Kurt’s face with his thumbs. “And now
you’re done for the day. We’re going to show you where all your things are, and
then let you get some sleep, I know it’s been a long day.”

Kurt stared at him blankly, but Blaine was already walking around behind him to
join the other three and didn’t seem to notice.

In the end, they undid the band around his wings and let Kurt stand shivering
where he was as they walked around the cage and indicated what things were –
the bar was for supporting him when someone wanted to use him, and the mats
were for when someone wanted him lying down. His new feet would make it easy
for him to sleep standing up, so what he’d taken for a fuzzy mat leaning
against a wall was actually a mattress for him to lean up against. There were
food and water dispensers for him, a sort of toilet behind a small privacy
screen – although the other side of that area was still made up of open cage
bars – and the sunken tub was essentially a birdbath where he could clean
himself. The mirrors, they explained, were for his entertainment, and they
would bring him more toys later, when he wasn’t feeling so over-stimulated.
In all, it felt unnervingly similar to his first official tour of Dalton.

They each petted Kurt on the head, back, or wings before they filed out, and
Kurt was left shaking at the same spot beside the bar as if he was still
chained there.

It felt like hours until he could move again, and then Kurt finally was able to
stagger around the cage on his new feet, frantically searching for a way out he
might have missed before. The cage walls were entirely sturdy, though, and the
door was one he couldn’t open without hands, even when he desperately attempted
to manipulate it with his mouth.

Eventually, Kurt slumped beside the door out of exhaustion. Staring down, he
thought he noticed etching on the ankle bands that he’d been too distracted to
see before. When he looked closer, he found that he was right – on one, the
Dalton logo proudly adorned the front. The other had an incomprehensible jumble
of letters and numbers, and he took to trying to decipher them in an attempt to
distract himself from crying.

He was no closer to figuring out what they meant by the time night fell,
though, the light from the window above turning orange and then dimming away
entirely, and Kurt finally resigned himself to using the… bathtub, needing to
feel at least a little clean again. The relief of not feeling the boys’ bodily
fluids all over him was momentary, though, because as soon as Kurt was done
awkwardly bathing and then shaking the excess water off, his first wish was for
a towel – and then, thinking about his towel led to thinking about everything
else he was now locked away from, and that led to thinking about his family,
and…

Kurt cried himself to sleep that night, still crouched on the floor beside the
birdbath.
***** Chapter 3 *****
The year went on, despite what had happened.

Kurt spent that first week mostly alone in his cage, except for daily visits by
the Warblers’ Council, sometimes with Blaine, sometimes not. During those
visits, the three Council members would use him, one in each orifice. In the
beginning, it stung each time, but by the end of the week, the constant aches
were more prominent than the sting that came with penetration. When Kurt barely
reacted to David’s cock entering his ass on Friday, Blaine, who had come by
halfway through, praised him excitedly.

It was clear what Kurt was being prepared for at the end of the week. The door
opened and Kurt stood up straight from where he had been leaning against his
“bed,” steeling himself for the impending violation. However, it wasn’t just
Wes, Thad, and David that entered. The Council did come in first, followed by
Blaine, but trailing after them were all the Warblers.

Kurt found himself going pale, then flushing in humiliation. His attempts at
covering himself did no more good than they had the first time, and within a
few minutes, he was bent over the bar again, tied down like he hadn’t needed to
be for the last two days. Although the boys who had once been his friends
started out by just admiring Kurt’s new features and feathers, it didn’t stay
that way for long. They followed Wes’ admonition to only use him one at a time
for now, but by the end of the next few hours, Kurt was sore and actually
dripping with – he didn’t want to acknowledge it.

After that day, it was a little easier, as Blaine kindly informed him the next
day that it would be – he’d only need to handle so many of the Warblers at once
like that during parties and maybe exam weeks.

Some of the Warblers largely ignored him when they weren’t screwing him, but a
good half seemed to dote on him. They brought him toys – jingly things to throw
around and the occasional magazine he had to try hard not to accidentally shred
with his new claws – and delighted in playing music for him on the room’s
speakers, encouraging him to chirp along.

Kurt was still treated to the school’s latest gossip, sometimes accidentally,
when two or more Warblers would come in at once and chat together while they
waited their turn, but sometimes on purpose – Blaine especially, but also Trent
and a few of the others, would occasionally come in just to talk to him through
the bars, without taking anything more. He found himself actually coming closer
to his visitor at those times, desperate for something that felt like a human
connection. The effect was somewhat ruined by the way the visiting boy would
also reach in to stroke his back or his hair or his wing feathers, but it was
the closest thing to conversation he could hope for anymore. He knew that they
only talked to him in the way he had once talked to Pavarotti, half for their
own sake and without expecting a response, but he could at least chirp or
interject a trill every so often to contribute.
The stress of winter midterms did come as a shock a couple months in; while
snow fell on the glass dome above and gave a muted look to the light filtering
in, boy after boy came into the cage and left Kurt a constant mess of sweat and
spit and other bodily fluids. By the third day of tests, it even fell to the
council members to keep Kurt clean and fed, as he could barely manage to drag
himself to his food and water dishes, let alone summon the energy to chew food
once he was there. Wes seemed harried and annoyed to be pulled from his own
studies because the Warblers as a group couldn’t contain themselves, but Thad
argued back passionately on behalf of the stressed-out Warblers’ needs and
David seemed more amused by their excesses than anything.

Winter break was a welcome respite at first, and Kurt spent almost the entire
first half sleeping and recovering from the end-of-semester party the Warblers
had thrown immediately after midterms were done. The second half, though, was a
misery. Kurt had mostly managed to avoid thinking of his family lately, and of
the fact that they would be celebrating Christmas without him this year, but
the days of silence, broken only by the taciturn freshman Warbler tasked with
feeding him every morning, let the thoughts come, and once that dam burst, Kurt
couldn’t stop the flow of memories and fears. On a day he was fairly certain
was Christmas Day, he was perched in a corner of his cage, sobbing weakly for
what felt like the hundredth time that week, when the sound of a creaking door
startled him into silence.

“Hey there.” It was Blaine.

Kurt wasn’t sure how to respond, so he remained where he was, turning his tear-
streaked face to where Blaine was approaching, hands behind his back, while
Kurt just stared at him dumbly.

“So,” Blaine said, smile softening when he seemed to notice Kurt’s tears, “I
realized that with everyone gone for Christmas, you were pretty much here
alone, so I brought you something.” He brought his hands around from behind his
back, revealing a bottle of glue in one hand, and a packet of rhinestones in
the other. “I had to get permission from the Council, but I remembered how much
you like some sparkle. I brought some along so you can have a real gift this
year.” Blaine shifted the gifts so both were in one hand, freeing up the other
to reach in and cup Kurt’s face, wiping the tears off his cheek.

Before Kurt could do more than blink and take a shaky breath in, Blaine was
making his way into the cage, conscientiously shutting the door behind him.
Kurt had stood up by the time Blaine made his way over, but Blaine stopped
short of him and didn’t try to lead him over to the bar or anywhere else.
Instead, Blaine was laying his coat out on the floor of the cage and gesturing
to it.

“I need you to lay on your back for this,” Blaine explained. Seeing Kurt still
hesitating, puzzled and wary, Blaine laughed and shook his head fondly. “It’s
alright,” he said. “I’m just going to add some dazzle to your ankle bands.” He
did some quick jazz hands in the air, as if to illustrate, and the move was so
perfectly dorky, yet charming, that Kurt almost smiled.

Maybe that, more than anything, made Kurt cautiously acquiesce. He treaded over
to where the coat lay and lowered himself down onto it, although the motion was
nearly impossible on his own and he felt a second’s fear on realizing he really
did need Blaine’s help for it. Once Kurt was down, though, Blaine didn’t even
bother looking between his legs and just crouched down and lifted Kurt’s ankle
up across his knees so the first metal band was in easy reach.
Blaine chatted with him casually as he began gluing rhinestones onto the band,
first in double rows along the edges, then in patterns in between the engraved
lettering. When the rhinestones had finally run out on the second band, Kurt
found himself almost enjoying their glittering new look, or at least the fact
that they looked less terrifying and industrial this way. Blaine held his
ankles across his thighs for a few minutes more to let the glue cure, and Kurt
let himself almost drift in the sound of the familiar voice, once a source of
such comfort and acceptance.

Kurt had barely registered the shift in Blaine’s tone to something a lot like a
goodbye before he felt his legs being gently lowered to the ground again and
Blaine reaching over to help him up. Involuntarily, Kurt let out a musical
sound of distress, and he felt himself spreading his legs in an unthinking
attempt to keep Blaine there a little longer. Heat spread across his cheeks
when Blaine just looked at him in shock, and Kurt could feel the beginnings of
shame and a curl of self-hate creep in, realizing what he’d just done, what
he’d offered willingly.

He didn’t know if it was better or worse that Blaine eventually did give him
that sappy smile that would have utterly melted him months ago, then unbuckled
his belt. It was the first time Blaine ever used his cunt.


The rest of the year was almost easier, at least compared to the weeks leading
up to break and the break itself. Some of the boys rolled their eyes at the
bedazzled bands when Blaine wasn’t looking, but most cooed over them, thinking
it was sweet, and yet more proof of Blaine’s responsibility and leadership.

This semester, Kurt kept better track of the date, despite the eventual boredom
that set in with the awful daily routine. He knew when finals was coming up
this time, and braced himself for another hard few weeks as the sky above the
dome grew brighter and bluer, and the clouds pelted down spring rains instead
of snow.

As expected, finals week and the period before was exhausting, and the end-of-
the-year party was even worse, since a number of the Warblers were graduating
and gladly and enthusiastically took advantage of their last chance with Kurt.
Kurt didn’t receive any of the hugs or slaps on the back distributed among the
Warblers, but he swore he did see a tear in Wes’ eye as he pulled out of Kurt
for the last time.

Then the months of summer stretched ahead, terrifying and lonely. Kurt was
still sore and worn out from the end of the semester two days in, when Blaine
came in, practically bouncing. Kurt barely had the energy to wonder why Blaine
was around after school was out and what he was doing visiting Kurt before
Blaine supplied the answer in a somehow charming mixture of bashfulness and
pride. “The council offered me a position, Kurt!” he gushed, eyes bright. “A
new one, President of the Warblers! It’s new this year, what with Wes
graduating and David taking so many intensive classes. They didn’t want so many
responsibilities for the council on top of all that, so David and Thad are
going to keep their positions and act as final arbiters, but they want me to
take the lead overall!”

Blaine was looking at him with such breathless excitement that Kurt had to
offer him a congratulatory chirp. Blaine beamed. For a second, it was like they
were sitting across from each other at the coffee shop again, sharing good
news, and Kurt’s long-buried instincts rose long enough to make him absently
hope that maybe Blaine’s new position would result in more solos for other
people, namely, Kurt – but then Kurt’s remaining aches and the bars between him
and Blaine reminded him of the situation and his smile back at Blaine grew a
little shaky.

Kurt wasn’t entirely free of visitors for the summer; it turned out that many
of the Warblers spent time at Dalton over break as tour guides, or counselors
for the handful of summer camps held on its grounds. A few parties also
gathered the remaining Warblers together, and Kurt was faced with all of them
at once, though they would all loyally stop to watch and cheer when it was
Blaine’s turn.
The first time Kurt saw Sebastian was at the last of these parties of the
summer. A few autumn leaves had been carried over the glass dome by the wind,
and the long absences of clouds had Kurt remembering the smell of cut grass and
leaves just beginning to dry out, barbeques and back to school sales and the
shouting of teens in cars desperately cramming in the last of their summer
debauchery while they could. Sebastian seemed unphased when he was shown Kurt
in his cage, and Kurt had to assume that Sebastian had already been accepted to
the group and everything had been explained. He didn’t like the way Sebastian
eyed him up and down, though, or the widening smirk when Sebastian caught sight
of his bedazzled bands and the absence between his legs. Kurt suddenly felt
more conscious of what he’d lost than he had in many months.

Sebastian eventually made his way over to Blaine, and Kurt could see, if he
craned his neck to the side, pretending to put his mouth at a better angle for
the Warbler in front of him, that Sebastian was being extremely forward, almost
boxing Blaine in with his body. Blaine seemed amused but uncomfortable with the
attention, and Kurt saw Blaine’s eyes flick in his direction at least once.
Kurt also saw Sebastian notice, but he was distracted before he could observe
anything else when a Warbler came up behind him and hoisted his hips into the
air so he could shove in.

The fallout didn’t come until nearly a week later.

Kurt was awakened from a light doze by the familiar sound of the door swinging
open, and he blinked himself awake just in case. Neither of the new arrivals
were paying him much attention, though. Sebastian had an intense, creased look
on his face and Blaine was shaking his head. “No, Sebastian,” Blaine was
saying, “The decision by the Council was final, and ratified by a more than
three fourths vote of the Warblers membership. You’re welcome to petition for
consideration of a leadership position next year, but this year should be for
learning to fit in with the group and understanding how it works.” His
expression became more sympathetic. “Take some time to settle in. It’s going to
be very different from your school in France, and the first year after a
transfer can be a tough time, even without taking on extra responsibility.”

Sebastian was rolling his eyes as Blaine spoke, as if he’d heard it all before.
“So you’re not going to grant my request, even after I was so polite about it.”

An uncomfortable look creased Blaine’s face, but Sebastian cut off his,
“Sebastian…”

“Alright then.” Something about Sebastian’s eyes became hard and flinty, and
Kurt fluttered his wings in instinctive distress. “Since you just have to keep
blocking my way…”

Kurt found himself screaming and flapping hard against the bars of the cage as
Sebastian drew a syringe from his pocket and plunged it into Blaine’s neck.
Blaine dropped to the floor, and Sebastian raised an eyebrow. “Can it, Tweety,”
he yelled above Kurt’s panicked chirps, but ignored him otherwise and knelt
down on the floor next to Blaine’s unconscious form.
Kurt was forced to watch helplessly as Sebastian began removing syringes from
his bag and laid them out on the floor, then set about divesting Blaine of his
clothes. Realizing what was about to happen, Kurt began screeching frantically,
trying to draw the attention of someone, anyone.

No one came though, not when Sebastian’s eyes roved over Blaine’s naked form
for a few moments too long, and not when he carefully selected the first of the
syringes and injected it into both of Blaine’s shins. The other needles went
into Blaine’s lower back and each shoulder, and Kurt let out one last piteous
scream when the last needle was injected into Blaine’s throat.

It crossed Kurt’s mind briefly that Sebastian hadn’t injected anything into
Blaine’s groin, and there was a brief flare of irrational jealousy in response,
but Kurt ignored that for now in favor of vainly taking up his piercing
screeches again in the hopes that someone would at least catch Sebastian before
he left.

Sebastian just continued to ignore him, though, and dragged Blaine to the cage,
where he unlocked the door and thrust Blaine’s limp body in before Kurt could
rush over. With the door secured again, Sebastian neatly folded Blaine’s
clothes and stacked them beside the cage door, placing a note on top that he
pulled out of his bag. With a last glance around, Sebastian gingerly returned
the used syringes to his bag.

“Have fun, boys,” Sebastian almost purred as he left, one last lascivious
glance roaming over Blaine’s crumpled form.

And then Kurt was alone with Blaine.

Kurt gave up on his screaming, sure now that Sebastian had planned too well and
there was, in fact, no one around. He moved as quickly as he could to where
Blaine lay, and looked him over frantically. He wasn’t sure what he thought
he’d see, since there was no visible damage to him, except for some
inflammation around the tiny puncture wounds.

Kurt knelt down as best he could and flapped his wings over Blaine, hoping to
wake him up. It didn’t work. He tried nudging him, chirping at him and even, in
a fit of desperation and too many improbably lingering romantic notions,
kissing him on the cheek. None of it worked, though, and Kurt finally had to
settle for nudging Blaine with his wings until he was lying in a more
comfortable position.

And then Kurt waited, dreading the moment he knew was coming.

While he waited, Kurt masochistically stared at Blaine’s feet – he’d never seen
them bare before, and at his hands and strong arms. Part of him hoped that
Blaine would wake up before the transformation began, so Kurt could hear his
voice one last time, but the rest of him suspected it would be kinder for
Blaine to remain asleep until it was over.
Soon enough, it started. Kurt tried to remain detached as it happened and not
to be sick, watching as Blaine’s feet elongated and became bird’s feet, the
scales spreading over them to cover what was once skin, tan-lines from flip
flops disappearing under yellow scales.

Kurt winced at the sounds of bones stretching and shrinking and bending in new
ways as Blaine’s limp arms began to reshape themselves, and he winced again in
remembered pain as feather sheaths poked through the skin, opening up to let
new feathers unfurl. Unlike Kurt’s wings, speckled here and there with brown,
Blaine’s feathers were all a pure yellow. The last visible change was the tail,
emerging from under Blaine’s lower back.

When it was over, Kurt found himself sitting back and looking over Blaine’s new
body. If he looked just at Blaine’s face, it was like he was seeing his old
friend napping in study hall again, but when he pulled back, his stomach
twisted.

Kurt couldn’t stand it any longer, so he stood and moved to the other side of
the cage, distracting himself by taking a bath, shaking water over his feathers
and pretending it was just like the long showers he used to take when he was
stressed from school.

The first sign of Blaine waking up was a groggy-sounding cheep. Kurt tried not
to look, but he had to, and he hated watching Blaine’s expression of sleepy
confusion turn to shock and then panic. Blaine shot to his feet, or tried to,
and wound up in a heap on the cage floor again. Kurt couldn’t help getting up
and going over to him, offering as soothing a trill as he could, but it did no
good, and Blaine’s expression quickly turned to rage as he screeched shrilly
and beat his wings and body against the locked door.

Kurt fluttered his wings in distress and chirped at him, but feathers continued
to break and fly through the air as Blaine vented his anger and fear on the
cage bars.

It took a long time, but eventually Blaine collapsed again and stared out at
his clothes, so close by but impossible to reach, then finally looked back at
Kurt. The expression on his face, fear and anger and betrayal and absolute
loss, made something in Kurt melt, and Kurt sighed and let go of the lingering
resentment that had whispered smugly to him when he first realized what was
going to happen to Blaine. Chirping once, Kurt went over and awkwardly put his
wings around Blaine as best he could, enveloping him in silky soft feathers.
Blaine’s hair was starting to spring free of its gel, but Kurt did his best to
nudge it back in place with the tip of his nose.

From the way Blaine sniffled and shook, Kurt knew he was crying, but Kurt just
held him through it and tried to figure out if there was a way to communicate
to the Warbler who fed him that Sebastian was the reason they’d lost their new
President.
***** Chapter 4 *****
The commotion when the Warblers were informed of what had happened was exactly
as chaotic as Kurt had expected, but he hadn’t expected them to fall so easily
for Sebastian’s lies – according to him, and to the note “Blaine” had left,
Blaine was so madly in love with Kurt that he’d chosen to join him as a Canary
over Sebastian’s own objections. Somehow, not one of the Warblers picked up on
the gaping holes in Sebastian’s story or on the fact that Blaine was constantly
trying to communicate to them that it was blatantly untrue. It was made all the
worse when Sebastian ‘bravely’ volunteered to take Blaine’s vacant position,
and what was left of the Council accepted.

When the conversations of visiting Warblers made it clear that he wasn’t going
to be freed, Blaine sank into a depression. Kurt’s new cage-mate spent most of
the time sulking in the corner until a Warbler would arrive, upon which he
would occasionally still try to mouth words to them or make signs with his
wings. Kurt wished he could do more to help, but the school year was starting
and soon there was a steady stream of Warblers visiting to use him, especially
the ones who hadn’t been around over the summer, so Kurt was kept unhappily
occupied much of the time.

Over that first month, though, Blaine seemed to acclimate to his new status,
and he eventually began to join in when Kurt whistled tunes to amuse himself in
his downtime. The constant company was odd for Kurt, at first; he’d always been
used to a certain amount of privacy, but he slowly grew used to having another
being constantly around, and it helped greatly that he and Blaine gradually
worked out ways to communicate.

It started with Kurt chirping out the tunes of songs of comfort when Blaine
looked particularly lost, to which Blaine one day responded with the tune of
Christina Aguilera’s “Thank You.” From there, they expanded their musical
vocabulary, commenting on events with songs that were appropriate or ironic, or
just using music to express what was on their minds. It wasn’t a complete
replacement for the long in-depth conversations they’d once had, but the
sentiment was there.
The next change came after one particularly rough day in October. Blaine had
been more withdrawn than he’d been for a while, and there had been a Warbler
meeting, so a good handful of Warblers came in, using Kurt two at a time until
he was sore and dripping. It wouldn’t have been so bad if Sebastian hadn’t been
there, alternating between watching Kurt and Blaine with a smug expression. As
the last Warbler pulled out of Kurt’s ass and offered a go to Sebastian,
Sebastian just sneered and said, “No, I prefer men.”

It was nothing Kurt hadn’t heard before, but the utter disdain in Sebastian’s
voice was hard to take when he was already feeling stretched thin by everything
else, and he had to turn away quickly before anyone saw his blank expression
crack.

Apparently he hadn’t been fully successful, though, because when all the
Warblers had left – Sebastian leering at Blaine one last time on his way out –
Blaine cautiously hopped over and brought up his wing to rest on Kurt’s
shoulder.

Kurt shook his head and warbled the tune to Amanda Marshall’s “I’ll Be Okay.”

Blaine frowned and started to sing a tune that sounded suspiciously like it
came from Mulan, then stopped, apparently thinking better of it. Instead, he
just shook his head hard. He chirped a few bars of “Under the Sea,” their code
for “Sebastian,” then made a face of disgust.

Kurt rolled his eyes and nodded, but it brought a tiny smile to his quivering
lips.

Blaine sighed and they were both silent for a moment.

Then Blaine stepped forward so he was face to face with Kurt and looked him in
the eye seriously. Slowly, leaving time for Kurt to move out of the way, he
leaned in.

Kurt let him.

The kiss was nothing like Kurt expected, though he’d once upon a time imagined
it quite frequently. It was, in fact, slow and soft, but it was also clumsy and
there was an immense struggle to figure out whose nose went where.

When they drew back, Kurt found his eyes were fluttering and he looked at
Blaine, stunned. Blaine looked equally floored for a moment, but then his lips
curved up in a smile and he blushed, huffing what would have been a bashful
laugh if he’d had human speech. Kurt was frozen for a second longer, then his
lips twitched upward as well and he leaned in for a second kiss.
The change in Kurt and Blaine’s relationship was noticed by the Warblers quite
quickly, as Thad once walked in on them kissing again and whooped in some kind
of victory. It became clear after a lengthy visit from Trent, who liked to talk
to them, that the Warblers had been rooting for the two of them to ‘get
together,’ although apparently Sebastian had just made an odd strained face
when Thad shared the news.

The year went on much like the last, though with some pros and cons added on –
on the bright side, there were even more gifts from the Warblers now that
Blaine was in the cage as well, and Kurt and Blaine were kept well-entertained
during their downtime. The loneliness was less crushing for Kurt, too, now that
Blaine was around to “converse” with. They also discovered that, if Blaine
didn’t make the attempt too often, he could occasionally step in possessively
and make the Warblers, with good-natured reluctance, stop using Kurt for a day.
Some things had to be worse, though, of course, and those things were all named
“Sebastian.”

Sebastian would drop by occasionally when no other Warblers were present and
gloat to Blaine, bragging about all the solos he was getting, and how he was a
more effective leader than Blaine would have been, and if Blaine had just given
into his advances, none of this would have happened. He also tended to mock
Kurt when his mood took him that way, focusing on Kurt’s perceived lack of
masculinity and especially on what he was now lacking between his legs. Both
Kurt and Blaine learned that the best way to deal with the painfully on-point
mockery was to ignore it, which especially rankled Kurt, since he’d learned
long ago to defend himself with words which were now denied to him. The one way
to actively piss Sebastian off, though, was to begin ostentatiously making out,
reminding him what he was missing out on and who had gotten it. As a result,
Kurt and Blaine, in their opinions, were soon kissing experts.

The year dragged on, but overall, it wasn’t as miserable for Kurt as the first
one had been, and he suspected that Blaine was adjusting better than he had
since the Warblers refrained from using him. They each reminded the Warblers
when it was the other’s birthday, resulting in little birthday celebrations for
each of them, complete with party hats and cake, and this year the Warblers
made sure to leave them extra gifts over Christmas. Slowly, Kurt began to hope
his new existence would become more tolerable as time went on.
***** Chapter 5 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
The end of the school year saw the farewells of more Warblers, and Kurt tried
hard not to think about the fact that he should have been graduating with them.
Blaine picked up on his mood, though, and did his best to keep Kurt’s spirits
up, which earned him a watery smile or two, then actual laughter as the
uneventful summer went on.

Kurt and Blaine spent their days singing to each other and paging through the
magazines and occasional book they’d been left, Kurt occasionally humoring
Blaine and playing a version of soccer with him using a ball Jeff had given
them. Warblers dropped in every few days to use Kurt, but it was a slower pace
than usual, and it was pleasant.

The unpleasant changes began once school started again in the fall.

The first sign of change was the arrival of a coldly handsome boy about halfway
through August, as best they could tell. He came into the room like he owned
it, and surveyed the place critically before his gaze landed on Kurt and
Blaine. Kurt shuddered involuntarily. The boy came towards the cage but made no
move to open the door. They waited for him to speak, but the boy said nothing,
and just looked at them for a long moment before nodding curtly to himself and
turning on his heel with military precision, then he left the room without a
word.

Kurt and Blaine exchanged confused glances, but it didn’t make sense until
school began and it turned out that the boy was called Hunter, and he was the
new leader of the Warblers. Kurt and Blaine’s delight at Sebastian being
demoted was short-lived, though, since it became obvious that under Hunter, the
Warblers were beginning to change. Where they had once been an organized, posh
choir, they began to pick up the air of a military organization. Visits to the
Canaries became strictly scheduled, and more than once a Warbler used Kurt with
far too much force in an attempt to finish before their allotted time was up.
The Warblers still brought gifts, but less often than before, and there was
something less playful about them when they did. Blaine and Kurt were both
troubled by the changes, Blaine for what it meant for the Warblers, and Kurt
for what it meant for them. Then one day, Trent came to the cage looking more
furtive than they’d ever seen the cheerful boy.

“I really shouldn’t be here,” he said in a rush as he approached the cage,
looking around the room as if expecting someone to jump out from behind
something. “I’ve quit the Warblers.”

Blaine actually gasped, and Kurt stood looking at Trent with confusion and
concern – Trent was probably the kindest to them of all the Warblers, so this
couldn’t be anything good.

“I just can’t stay with them anymore,” Trent continued, “They’re not the
Warblers I joined. I’m sure you’ve noticed.” Blaine and Kurt looked at each
other and nodded. Trent swallowed hard. “I hate to leave you two like this, but
the Warblers – they’ve changed. Hunter,” the name was said with surprising
anger, “has started something new, he said we needed more of an edge now that
we don’t have Blaine, and he’s giving everyone,” Trent hesitated, “steroids.”

Kurt and Blaine both gawked at that.

“He’s taking things way too far,” Trent said sadly. “I just can’t stay anymore.
I’m sorry.” He pushed the magazines he’d brought between the cage bars and
sighed. “I’ll miss you both.” He wiped away a tear, and then he left.

The very next day, Hunter and four other Warblers marched into the room and
locked the door behind them.

Still on edge from Trent’s news, Kurt was both perplexed and terrified when he
saw that one of the Warblers accompanying Hunter had a small stack of syringes
in his hands, carried gingerly. He chirped to get Blaine to look up from the
new magazine he was idly looking through, and when Blaine did, his eyes widened
and they both retreated to the far corner of the cage, even though there was
really nowhere to hide.

Without bothering to communicate with either of them, Hunter flung the cage
door open dramatically and waved three of the Warblers inside. They converged
on Kurt at a leisurely pace, but became more purposeful when they realized that
Kurt was not going to come quietly – he kicked out with his talons and flapped
his wings in their faces, and Blaine joined in after a moment, obviously
remembering that syringes never led to anything good.

Still, though, the Warblers had the advantages of hands and numbers on their
side, and they soon had a leather belt wrapped around his chest and wings,
pinioning them by his sides. They lifted Kurt bodily and carried him to the
front of the cage, where Hunter and the remaining boy were waiting. Blaine
followed after them, chirping angrily, but they paid him no mind except to push
him away every now and then.

“Good,” Hunter said as the Warblers deposited Kurt back on his feet in front of
him. “Now restrain Blaine, I don’t want him interfering.”

Blaine’s squawking grew louder and more panicked as two of the Warblers went to
him and gave him the same treatment, then secured the confining belt to the
cage bars far away from Kurt and Hunter.

Kurt was trying to get away from the remaining Warbler, but his grip was strong
and unrelenting, and he managed to hold Kurt still as Hunter approached with a
syringe in his hands. “Hold him still,” Hunter said unnecessarily, and uncapped
the needle, then pressed it into Kurt’s lower abdomen.
Kurt screamed the sound of a bird in pain, and all the Warblers winced at the
noise, even Hunter, who didn’t pause in his movements, but traded the used
syringe for a new one from the boy holding them. Hunter glanced at the syringe,
nodded, and forcefully plunged it deep into Kurt’s hip – deeper than the
others, so deep that Kurt felt it scrape, then actually pierce the bone. His
shrieks were even louder this time, and he didn’t bother to restrain himself
for the Warblers’ comfort. After a long moment, Hunter took the needle out and
traded it for yet another fresh syringe. This one was injected into Kurt’s
lower abdomen again, though Kurt almost – almost – managed to twist free before
it went in.

That seemed to be the end of it, though, and Hunter left without another word,
leaving the other Warblers to release Kurt and Blaine from their bonds. Blaine
managed to clip a few of them over the head with his wings this time, but the
boys all escaped and closed the door behind them before he could do any real
damage. Once the Warblers were all gone, Blaine turned to Kurt with a look of
concern.

Kurt was still cataloguing how he felt – pain in his hip, still, but he could
barely feel anything at the other injection sites, except for a slight burn. He
was scared, but about to look up and let Blaine know that he was alright, when
a burning pain started in his lower abdomen, cramping up and making him double
over with a startled squawk. It went on for a few more long seconds before
fading away, but Kurt stayed bent over for a few moments more.

Blaine was chirping anxiously when Kurt straightened up again, and Kurt had no
comfort to offer him – neither of them knew what the shots had been for, and it
couldn’t have been for anything good.

No more Warblers visited them that day, though, or the next, so they took it as
a small blessing and enjoyed the days as much as they could, splashing in the
birdbath and playing with the Warblers’ gifts together.

Life went back to normal after that, though, with the Warblers beginning to
come and use Kurt again on the third day. An odd pattern was developing,
though. At first, Kurt thought nothing of it, but soon he realized – with an
assist from Blaine singing the tune of a Sir Mix-a-Lot song – that the Warblers
were only using his ass and his mouth, and left his pussy alone.

Also, Kurt’s pelvis ached. He was afraid to find out why, but as the days wore
on, he couldn’t notice anything different – until the day he spent longer than
usual staring into the mirror, and realized that his hips had widened. He
chirped in alarm, which brought Blaine running over, and as Blaine stared at
him in concern, Kurt repeated the tune to the song Blaine had sung earlier.
Blaine furrowed his brow in confusion for a second, and Kurt, exasperated,
resorted to shaking his tail to draw attention to his larger-than-before hips.
Blaine’s eyes widened and he bit his lip, then nodded, letting Kurt know that
he wasn’t imagining things.

Kurt tried not to cry, but it was hard. Did Hunter really need to make him look
even more feminine? Coach Sylvester’s comment about “pear hips” circled in
Kurt’s thoughts, and it took Blaine a good hour and four songs to assure Kurt
that he still even thought he was attractive.
The other effect of the shots was hard to notice until a weekend day that Kurt
and Blaine blessedly had to themselves.

They were playfully splashing each other in the birdbath when Blaine made the
sound that now sufficed for laughter and tossed his wet, curly hair, and – Kurt
noticed him. Kurt blinked, frozen for a moment. He’d always found Blaine
attractive, ever since they’d met and even since they’d both been changed, but
this felt different. Rather than respectfully looking at Blaine’s handsome face
and sparkling eyes, Kurt found his vision trailing over Blaine’s broad chest
and his abs and lower…

Kurt blushed and made himself look up, only to lock gazes with Blaine, who
looked perplexed. Kurt chirped in involuntary embarrassment and looked away.
Blaine stepped closer, concerned, and Kurt waved a wing as if he could wave
away Blaine’s concern as easily.

When Blaine continued to look worried, Kurt hastily warbled the tune to
“Everything’s Alright” from Jesus Christ Superstar, and Blaine seemed to accept
it, backing off. They went back to splashing each other and Kurt did his best
to ignore the way the water trickled down over Blaine’s abs.

After that, though, Kurt found himself growing distracted by Blaine more and
more often, and not in the charmed romantic way he’d become used to. He also
found himself beginning to respond more to the Warbler’s ministrations, and
most of them enthusiastically took advantage of that to bring him off at least
twice per session. When he first noticed the pattern, Kurt was afraid of what
it meant, but when he realized that he wasn’t losing his faculties, he calmed
down a little, though it still continued to embarrass him. Still, none of the
Warblers were so much as touching his cunt, and he found that a humiliating
part of him missed that – he could feel himself getting wet and clenching
around nothing at all when he was used in all the other ways.
The day it all came to a head was the day Blaine finally agreed with Kurt that
their water tasted a little different than usual – there was a lot of
creativity in the chirped songs needed to get that across.

For once, Kurt noticed that he wasn’t the only one who seemed distracted.
Blaine would seem to lose track of whatever Kurt had sung to him, and when Kurt
made a questioning noise, Blaine would blush and look sheepish, his gaze
snapping up to Kurt’s face. By afternoon, they were both on edge, and only two
Warblers had come by all day to break the tension. It wasn’t an unpleasant
tension, though, and Kurt was strongly reminded of how he’d felt when he and
Blaine used to get coffee together and someone’s hand would slide too close to
the other’s.

Finally, though, they were crouching side-by-side to page through Vogue, wings
pressed together between them and feathers mingling. It felt as though even
their breathing had synced up. Kurt went to turn a page with his foot and lost
his balance a little, distracted by the warmth and scent of Blaine’s body
beside him. Blaine moved to steady him and the crisis was averted, but rather
than looking back to the magazine, both continued looking at each other,
nervous laughter dying in their throats.

Kurt leaned forward and pressed a kiss against Blaine’s lips, meaning it to be
a short thank-you, but he quickly forgot that and was lost in the soft familiar
feeling of Blaine’s lips on his, and soon the magazine lay forgotten as they
shifted to face each other, lost in the kiss. One or both of them gave a
contented trill. The kiss went on longer than usual, even longer than the make-
out sessions they held for Sebastian’s benefit, and soon both their lips were
hot and reddened. Blaine ventured away from Kurt’s mouth and trailed more
kisses down to his neck, sucking soft and wet on sensitive skin and making Kurt
trill again.

Kurt could feel himself getting wet between his legs, and a quick involuntary
look down showed that Blaine was feeling the same as he was, his bare cock
suffusing with blood and beginning to fill out. Kurt made a wanton bird noise
at that without meaning to, and Blaine sucked harder. When Blaine raised his
head, his eyes were dark and intense, and Kurt shuddered with pleasure. It felt
like they were the only two people on Earth in that moment.

Kurt took a deep breath and, without letting himself think too hard and talk
himself out of it, tremulously sang a bar of music to Blaine.
Blaine’s eyes went wider as he recognized the lyrics that went with the tune –
“Let’s go all the way tonight.”

Blaine looked for a moment like he was going to have second thoughts, but then
a tiny smile twitched nervously at his lips and he leaned forward and pecked
Kurt on the mouth. Mouth still pressed to Kurt’s, he sang the response, and
Kurt almost felt tears prick at his eyes as his mind supplied the words, “No
regrets, just love.”
They rose up to stand as if they’d arranged it before, and Blaine looked lost
for a moment, glancing around the cage, before Kurt began backing toward a mat
that had been left on the cage floor. Blaine followed and soon they were
lowering themselves carefully to lay side-by-side on the mat.

Kurt made a sound that would have been a nervous giggle in his old voice, and
Blaine smiled softly at him, then leaned in to kiss him again before the sound
even died. They were pressed close together, bodies meeting in a way that was
new for them, and they were content to make out and rub their bodies together
for many moments, exploring the new sensations they could give each other.

Blaine’s body was hot and firm against Kurt’s and their skin, growing damp with
sweat, almost stuck together as they rubbed together. On a particular rub, Kurt
felt something damp and even hotter than the rest of Blaine’s skin fall between
his legs and he let out an involuntary noise. Blaine chirped a little in
response, looking unsure for a second until Kurt leaned impossibly closer and
kissed him harder. Then Blaine’s hips stuttered forward, and Kurt’s belly felt
like it was twisting up even tighter, the place between his legs letting out a
little gush of hot fluid.

Soon they were grinding together like that, Blaine throwing one leg over both
of Kurt’s and pushing his cock between Kurt’s wet thighs, which Kurt clamped
together around it, partly for Blaine’s pleasure and partly for his own as the
hot flesh rubbed against him and sparked nerves that had been neglected for
what felt like ages. On one particular slide, the head of Blaine’s cock rubbed
and almost caught on the entrance to Kurt’s cunt, and Kurt trilled a high note.
Blaine, breathing heavily, repeated the angle again and again until Kurt was
thrusting his hips as best he could and nearly unseating Blaine from between
his thighs in the process.

Unable to think coherently enough to find a song that requested what he wanted,
Kurt let out a soft cry and pulled back from their messy kissing to look Blaine
in the eye pleadingly, wiggling his hips as close to Blaine as he could.
Thankfully, Blaine seemed to understand, and he pulled back a little only to
thrust forward. His cock brushed past Kurt’s cunt and slid forward over his
asshole instead, and Kurt chirped in arousal and disappointment. Blaine’s
eyebrows were furrowed and he was looking down between their bodies. Another
try, and Blaine missed again. Kurt was about to roll them both over so that he
could try from on top of Blaine, but on the third thrust, Blaine managed to
lodge the head of his cock in the opening to Kurt’s cunt, and with careful
little jolts of his hips, he was able to seat himself fully in Kurt’s body.
Kurt’s back arched and he felt like he could come just from the feeling of
finally being full again and from the look of pleasure and awe on Blaine’s
face. Kurt kissed Blaine, both of them breathing heavily into the kiss. Blaine
slowly jerked his hips back, then forward again, moving in tiny increments as
if afraid of slipping out, but the movements still sent electricity through
Kurt’s spine as the pressure and friction increased. Kurt let out a cheep that
he hoped would be interpreted as ‘more,’ and Blaine apparently got the message,
because he curved his top leg tighter around Kurt’s legs and began circling his
hips jerkily. The movements were small and uneven, but Kurt still panted and
did his best to push forward into Blaine’s thrusts.

Blaine paused after a moment and made a little chirp of frustration, then
leaned in to kiss Kurt, pressing forward with his whole body until Kurt had
been urged over onto his back. Blaine followed and laid on top of him, but his
cock slipped out with the movement, making Kurt cry out in dismay. Blaine
kissed him again, though, and wriggled his hips until his cock was back in
place and he slid into Kurt’s cunt, the move easier than it had been at first.

Blaine was a hot and heavy and sweat-sticky weight on top of Kurt. The feeling
was more comforting than confining, though, so Kurt let himself spread his
thighs wide so Blaine could lie between them easily. It took a minute for
Blaine to figure out how to get any leverage without arms, but soon Blaine was
grinding his cock into Kurt at a quick pace, his buttocks clenching with the
thrusts. Kurt gasped and chirped and wrapped his legs around Blaine’s hips,
trying to draw him even closer and deeper. The sound of skin slapping on skin
echoed in the empty room, but Kurt couldn’t bring himself to care or be
embarrassed, not when Blaine felt so sweet and good over him and inside him.
Kurt’s bird feet clenched into little fists on either side of Blaine’s lower
back, jerking in the air with Blaine’s thrusts.

Blaine’s pubic bone kept bumping up against Kurt above where he was split on
Blaine’s cock, and it was a final rub there, as well as the constant friction
and fullness below, that finally pushed Kurt over the edge. His vision went
white and he was dimly aware of a long cry escaping his lips as Blaine kept
pushing into him through it. Not a second later, Blaine’s thrusts grew even
jerkier and he was seating himself more deeply than ever and holding himself
there, his whole body spasming above Kurt’s.

They lay together, recovering, until Blaine’s cock had shrunk down inside the
warmth of Kurt’s cunt and they both grew too sensitive. Then Blaine rolled off
Kurt so that they were laying side-by-side, and whistled into the air,
seemingly in awe. They turned their heads to look at each other, exhausted
little smiles creasing their lips. Kurt and Blaine kissed again, not needing
words to convey what they meant.
Visits from the Warblers continued to be sparse after that, and Kurt would
worry more about it if he weren’t so occupied by filling his days with Blaine
and their new way of making each other feel good. Many mornings began with
Blaine sleepily pushing inside Kurt as they spooned, and they took to kissing
and exploring each others’ bodies every night once the last sunbeams had
retreated up the wall and the room had gone dark. Kurt wondered sometimes if he
should not enjoy sex, not after the way he was continually used by the
Warblers, but something about the way Blaine looked at him and kissed him made
it feel like a completely different act, and Kurt found himself actually
wanting to feel Blaine inside most hours of the day.

When the Warblers did come to him, their visits were still shorter than they
had been before Hunter’s arrival, and felt almost perfunctory. Kurt was sure
that their dicks even felt smaller inside him. Through song and some gesturing,
Blaine and Kurt decided that it had to be the effect of the steroids. Hunter
himself still came every now and then, waving any waiting Warblers aside to
take his turn with Kurt’s ass, but each time he did, he ran his hands under
Kurt’s abdomen and seemed to be feeling it up.

As a result, Kurt was aware of the first minute changes. His belly was
beginning to swell, making it look at first as if he’d eaten a large meal, but
soon it was unmistakable. Somehow, he was pregnant. Blaine knew almost as soon
as Kurt did, and only a few pregnancy-related songs had to be chirped back and
forth before they realized why none of the Warblers had been using Kurt’s cunt
lately, and how the odd taste in the water probably contributed to things.

Kurt refused to ‘talk’ to Blaine for a day once he was forced to realize what
was going on, staying in a corner and brushing off Blaine’s warbled attempts at
communication. He knew, logically, that it wasn’t Blaine’s fault, and to be
honest, Kurt mostly blamed himself for not connecting the dots sooner. He hated
what had been done to his body, and was terrified to think of what would happen
in the future – he was sure that his belly was expanding much faster than it
should during a normal pregnancy, and he wasn’t sure what that meant.

Soon, though, Kurt was ‘speaking’ with Blaine again, even apologizing to him in
song. Blaine seemed to understand, though, and Kurt saw his own fear mirrored
in Blaine’s eyes when he looked at Kurt’s swollen abdomen.

Kurt had no hands to feel his own stomach, but he could sense it when the
feeling inside him changed. It had been hard, but still had some give to it,
but one day it became even harder, and there was an insistent pressure between
his legs, as if he needed to pee but not quite. Then a contraction ran through
Kurt’s body and he squawked.
The door opened and a Warbler entered, but Kurt and Blaine paid him no mind.
Blaine was at Kurt’s side as soon as the pain started, and he urged Kurt to lie
down on one of the mats as the Warbler at the door paused, stared, then turned
and ran out of the room, the door slamming unheeded behind him. Kurt’s body
shook at the feeling of something pressing hard at his cunt, but from the
inside.

A panicked glance between them, and Kurt and Blaine realized that Kurt must be
about to give birth. Blaine took exaggerated deep breaths, urging Kurt to
imitate him, and Kurt did his best to copy him. Kurt frantically tried to
remember everything he’d heard from movies and female friends about childbirth,
but he came up empty, except for the fact that he needed to keep breathing, so
he did.

The door slammed against the wall, startling Blaine and Kurt into looking up
for a second, and it admitted what looked like all of the Warblers. Kurt
chirped in anxiety and Blaine glared at them and moved to shield Kurt’s body as
best he could. The Warblers just crowded around the cage from all directions,
though, making it impossible to screen Kurt from all of them. There was
something of the Warblers’ old enthusiasm in their jostling and whispers, but
Kurt and Blaine couldn’t pay them any more attention, Blaine because Kurt had
just turned pale and was shaking again, Kurt because there was another strong
cramp rippling through his belly and he could feel himself beginning to
stretch.

Blaine resumed his deep breathing and Kurt tried to follow suit, although there
was something hard and warm and huge pushing its way out of him. It pressed
hard against his insides, stretching him wide and wider, and Kurt let out a
pitiful bird’s cry, despite his attempts to keep breathing and keep his calm in
front of the Warblers. Soon Kurt felt like he was being ripped apart from the
inside, and he could feel something slick and unyielding sliding past his
resistance and out of his body.

Blaine’s eyes, seemingly involuntarily, flicked downwards for a second, away
from Kurt’s face, and they went wide. Kurt’s breathing hitched, in worry as
much as in pain, and Blaine slowly looked back to his face, still looking
shocked. Kurt shrilled in panic, and Blaine shook himself and began taking deep
breaths again, looking at Kurt intently, but with an edge of fear. Kurt tried
his best to breathe deeply, as well, but it did little to distract him from the
extreme stretch of his cunt around something that certainly didn’t feel like a
baby. It got wider and wider, making Kurt shriek as it got to its largest
diameter, but blessedly seemed to taper after that, letting his abused cunt
relax and contract again as the thing inside finally slipped all the way out.
There was a small thump as the thing hit the mat, and the Warblers all cheered.
Blaine stared at it, but Kurt couldn’t bring himself to do more than slump
weakly against the mat, breathing hard and making a sound that would have been
a whimper if he’d been able.

The door to the cage opened and Blaine whirled around to face Hunter and two
Warblers. They marched across the cage’s floor towards Kurt and Blaine, and one
of the Warblers shoved Blaine roughly to the side as Hunter bent down between
Kurt’s legs. Kurt shrieked and tried to sit up despite himself, but Hunter was
too fast, and quickly scooped up the object that had left Kurt – an egg,
slightly larger than a newborn baby. Kurt was torn between staring and trying
to get the egg back, some instinct telling him he needed to keep it near him
and out of Hunter’s arms, but the second Warbler was holding his limp body down
as Hunter stood up and exited the cage with the egg. Without knowing why, Kurt
let out a loud cry of loss, and Blaine did the same.

The two Warblers let them go, the one holding Blaine shoving him back slightly,
and they left the cage, shutting the door securely behind them. Kurt sobbed.
Blaine turned to him with tears in his eyes and, ignoring the Warblers now
clustering around the egg as Hunter left the room with it, and he knelt down
beside Kurt again, kissing him fiercely. They cried together all afternoon for
reasons they couldn’t quite understand.

Kurt had thought it was over after that day, and that his body would slowly
return to normal, but the feeling of pressure from the inside started again the
next day, and the days after that. In all, Kurt laid five eggs, each more
wearying than the last, and all of them were taken away by Hunter.
Chapter End Notes
     Sorry guys, it got weirder.
End Notes
     Someday I'll write more consensual stuff, I swear.
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