Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/5455640.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Peter_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski
  Character:
      Peter_Hale, Stiles_Stilinski, Alan_Deaton
  Additional Tags:
      Underage_Sex, Dubious_Consent, Non-Consensual_Body_Modification,
      Coercion, Manipulation, Other_Additional_Tags_to_Be_Added
  Series:
      Part 25 of Tumblr_prompts
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-12-18 Completed: 2016-01-17 Chapters: 3/3 Words: 4206
****** The Bride ******
by Udunie
Summary
     Peter had been planning it for a while now. It wasn’t exactly rare
     for wealthy men to ‘buy’ their spouses from orphanages - after all,
     there was no better way to get a pious, virgin bride than directly
     from the bosom of the church - even though some frowned upon it.
     But Peter was already a widow and Malia was away for years to come in
     boarding school, so he had no reason not to, really. He didn’t even
     have to worry about an heir.
     He had been attending church on every Sunday like clockwork, making
     the clergy very happy with his generous donations. They didn’t have
     to know that the Lord was the last thing on his mind as he listened
     to the choir boys singing the hymns.
Notes
     Anonymous said: Since it seems you've opened requests again... I have
     a two-fold one for Stiles/Peter. The first part is subtle mindbreak -
     Peter systematically grooming and conditioning Stiles into his loyal,
     adoring little fuckpet. (1)
     The second part is my guilty love for boy tits. But rather than
     actual breasts, I’d love to see large and engorged nipples on a
     basically flat chest; extra bonus points if the areola is like a
     puffy mound and the actual nipples are elongated. (2)
     And naturally sensitive as fuck so Stiles can come from being
     “milked” and just wearing a shirt gives him a hard-on. Additional
     kinks I love and might provide inspiration is degrading dirty talk
     where the “victim” enthusiasticly agrees, (3)
     soft cock kink, total sexual objectification, cock worship, ahegao
     and the desperate cockslut always needing to have his cunt filled. My
     only turn-offs are scat and guro. You’ve managed to make me
     ambivalent on watersports :P (4/end)
     +
     Prompt: Peter/Stiles, marriage/concubine/mating all okay, young bride
     Stiles doesn’t know sex exists, cue Peter molding him to his liking;
     bonus points for cockwarming, plugs, enemas, even more bonus points
     for euphemisms (in Memoirs of a Geisha, a eel in search of a hole)
     and Stiles having a hard time adjusting but forcing himself to anyway
     +
     Pairing: Peter/Stiles; Prompts: brainwashing/grooming, boywife,
     coercion, manipulation e.g. Stiles’ bottom hurts and when Peter wants
     another round, Stiles forces himself to be good anyway and takes it
See the end of the work for more notes
***** Chapter 1 *****
Peter had been planning it for a while now. It wasn’t exactly rare for wealthy
men to ‘buy’ their spouses from orphanages - after all, there was no better way
to get a pious, virgin bride than directly from the bosom of the church - even
though some frowned upon it.
But Peter was already a widow and Malia was away for years to come in boarding
school, so he had no reason not to, really. He didn’t even have to worry about
an heir.
He had been attending church on every Sunday like clockwork, making the clergy
very happy with his generous donations. They didn’t have to know that the Lord
was the last thing on his mind as he listened to the choir boys singing the
hymns.
The boy - the one he would have, whatever it would take - was a lovely little
thing. He was gangly and pale, with a cute, upturned nose and millions of moles
dotting his skin.
Peter had been charmed from the start.
He wasn’t unfamiliar with patience though, so he waited and waited and waited
until the boy finally turned fourteen, an appropriate age to marry.
Father Adrian was overjoyed to hear his request. Peter had the impression that
the man was happy to part with the boy, but that was all well, only making
things easier.
 
***
 
Peter married Stiles on a cold, April day. There were not many people in
attendance, thankfully no one expected him to make a second marriage a social
event.
And he wanted Stiles’ attention focused on solely on himself anyway.
The boy was absolutely stunning, shy and blushing as he spoke his vow at the
altar. Peter knew that he didn’t really have a say in the matter, but it seemed
the boy was more amazed by the match than scared.
Very well.
 
***
 
Stiles had been orphaned at a young age, barely remembering his parents. That
was the best Peter could hope for.
When the ceremony was over and they returned to Hale Manor he could see the
boy’s nerves getting the best of him, making him twitchy and anxious, probably
scared of their first night to come.
But he wasn’t such an animal. Not at all. Well, not quite.
He told his butler to make a bath and they had a modest, but delicious dinner.
Stiles barely said a word.
“The bath is ready, my lord,” Alan said as he motioned for their plates to be
taken away. He couldn’t wait.
“Come, my dear,” he said, holding his hand out for the boy, who took it after a
second of hesitation, biting his lips adorably.
The bathroom was big - probably larger than the room the boy shared with five
other children - and luxuriously furnished with the huge, claw-footed tub in
the middle, filled with steaming water.
“Oh,” Stiles said.
“Hm? What did you expect, my dear?” Not like he didn’t know the answer.
Stiles’ ears turned red as he blushed.
“The b-bedroom,” he admitted.
“Ah, was that why you were so nervous? There’s nothing to fear, I assure you,”
he said, stepping behind the boy and putting his hands on his skinny shoulders.
“B-but… Father Adrian said…”
Now, that got Peter curious.
“What did the father say?”
Stiles shrugged, then stiffened, knowing that wasn’t a proper gesture. Not in a
proper household.
“Um, he… he said that you would ‘take’ me, and that it would hurt but I would
have to bear it,” he whispered.
Oh, sweet, sweet little thing.
Peter squeezed his shoulders, rubbing them comfortingly. He loved how the boy
just melted under his touch.
“Well, the father was right that you will have to bear with it, even if it’s
uncomfortable, but I will do my best not to hurt you. And, I don’t want to
consummate our marriage just yet, so there’s really no reason for you to
worry.”
Stiles turned around, looking at Peter like he was the best thing to ever
happen to him.
“Really?”
Peter lifted an eyebrow.
“It’s impolite to second-guess your husband. What I say is law in this house.”
Stiles nodded, quick and jerky, though still obviously thrilled.
“What we are going to do is take a bath,” he said, lifting the boy’s shirt,
undressing him quickly, but without urgency. Stiles seemed baffled.
“You mean, together?”
Peter hid a smile.
“It is important that we get to know each-other. Married people share
everything, be it pleasant or rough.”
He got rid of his own clothes after Stiles was naked, and it didn’t skip his
attention how the boy looked at his body - especially his cock. It was no
wonder, the boy was still underdeveloped, hairless and small. And if Peter had
a say in it, he would stay exactly like that.
“Staring, is also impolite,” he reminded, just to see that blush return.
“S-sorry.”
“What got you so amazed?”
Stiles didn’t reply, shifting from one feet to the other. He was obviously
unused to nudity, something Peter would have to correct.
“Stiles, I asked a question.”
“T-the… I mean… your thing,” he blurted out, eyes anywhere but on him.
At least Peter didn’t have to hide his grin.
“Come, get in the water and I will tell you about it.”
Stiles swallowed nervously, but got in obediently, scooting forward so Peter
could sit behind him. It was all too easy to run soapy hands over the boy’s
skin, the gentles touches making him relax.
“My ‘thing’ is bigger than yours because I’m a man, and you are just a boy. It
is entirely possible, that yours won’t grow anymore since you are my wife now,
and it would be unseemly for you to develop a manhood.”
He could feel the boy stiffen, but that hardly mattered. He would make sure
that his words came true. He knew very well that the education the church
provided avoided anything that had to do with sexuality, so it wasn’t like
Stiles was going him to catch him on a lie.
“Do you know how a marriage is consummated, my love?”
Stiles shook his head, the back of his neck was red with embarrassment.
Peter pulled him back, so he was lying on his chest. He put his arms around the
boy and slowly pushed one of his hands between his legs, nudging behind his
balls, and father.
His finger glazed the boy’s tiny, tight hole. He didn’t push in, just enjoyed
the shocked little gasp.
“Well, do you at least know what this is?”
Stiles panted for a few seconds.
“M-my bottom,” he said, though he sounded almost unsure. Good.
“Well, yes. Boy’s have bottoms, but you are my wife, remember. And that little
hole is your pussy. A little cavern made solely for the purpose to accept my
manhood.”
Stiles was shaking. Maybe it had to do something with Peter still playing with
him down there. Probably.
“When we consummate our union, my cock will grow large and stiff, and your
pussy will open right up to accept it, as it should.”
He doubted that Stiles heard him, too caught up in the sensation of being
touched in such an inappropriate place, so he decided to take mercy on the boy.
He pulled his hand back and continued washing his wife, like everything was
completely normal.
After they were finished, he dried the boy and showed him the nightgown he was
going to wear. It was pretty little thing; white, sheer and trimmed with
delicate lace, just reaching under the boy’s ass.
Stiles was embarrassed but didn’t object as Peter helped it on him, though he
seemed disturbed by not having any other undergarment. Peter acted like he
didn’t notice, getting into his own - much more covering - pajamas.
He led them down the hall to the master bedroom.
The fire was lit, the air warm and sweet, the huge bed calling for them. Stiles
stuttered to a stop just inside the door.
“I told you not to worry, didn’t I? Don’t be disobedient, dear,” Peter said
with a touch of sternness. “Come here.”
The boy did, looking at the tray on the small table under the window with
interest. There was a drink for Peter and a hot drink for Stiles.
“Drink up,” he ordered, watching as the boy took a sip, making a face at the
strange taste.
“What is this?” 
Peter looked at him over the rim of his scotch.
“It’s medicine. You are not a masturbator, are you, my love?”
The boy looked at him with wide eyes, like a startled bunny. Sweet. Peter knew
that he wouldn’t admit to touching himself, it was a sin that the church didn’t
take lightly.
“No, n-no I’m not,” he said after a second.
Peter smiled.
“Then you should have no trouble drinking it. I have a reputation to uphold, it
would be a great shame to my name if my wife was caught doing something so
shameless to himself, so I asked Alan to make something that would prevent such
tasteless things from happening.”
Stiles looked at the cup like it held poison, but now he couldn’t get out from
drinking it. It wasn’t anything dangerous, just something to make him unable to
get hard. He could still come if pleasured through… other methods, but the boy
didn’t have to know that.
Ah, what a lovely new tradition.
He made Stiles sit on the edge of the bed and took out the little vial from his
night side table. It was a special oil, also made by his butler. The man was a
treasure.
“Just one more thing,” he told Stiles as he unbuttoned his nightgown to reveal
his cute, blat chest. Peter wanted to fondle him, but it wasn’t time yet.
The vial’s stopper had a small brush attached to it, and he used it to smear
the oil over the boy’s pink, lovely nipples.
Stiles didn’t ask what it was, but Peter told him anyway.
“Now that you’re my wife, your body will change to fit into it’s new role. That
change might be unpleasant, but this should help you along,” he explained,
sounding confident, even though it was a lie. Well, Stiles’ body was going to
change - nipples growing fat and erect, ready to be played with, but the
tincture would be the cause of it.
“All set,” Peter smiled when he was finished, turning off the lights and
getting into bed. He pulled Stiles close, plastering their bodies together. He
wouldn’t fuck the boy just yet, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy his
presence.
“Good night, love,” he said into the soft neck in front of him.
“Good night,” Stiles replied timidly. Peter squeezed him middle.
“Good night…?”
“Good night, dear,” the boy corrected, and Peter could feel his skin heating
with his blush.
He was right. Remarrying was the best idea he ever had. 
***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter Notes
     Here comes the second part! :D
Peter didn’t think it was possible to enjoy himself this much before even
fucking the boy, but alas.
It was simply a pleasure to see him change, molded into the role Peter set for
him.
The medicine suppressing his libido worked wonderfully. Not only did the boy
forego morning erections, his demeanor also became sweeter and more agreeable,
hanging on Peter’s every word like it was the holy scripture.
His body changed too. His cock stayed sweet and small, as it was supposed to
be, but his chest… Peter couldn’t get enough of it. He was still flat, no
breasts to speak off, but his nipples were turning out absolutely lovely. The
little buds grew and stiffened, the areolas fattening up, two soft mounds
standing out from the pale skin around them.
He could see that it effected Stiles too. The boy could barely bite back his
moans when he was getting dressed in the morning, just the touch of his shirt
enough to send pleasure down his spine. Of course, with him unable to get hard,
he didn’t know how to let go of all that frustration, and his suffering was a
sweet, smoky aftertaste in the back of Peter’s throat.
Stiles mostly spent his days learning the ways of a wife. Jennifer, the
housekeeper was kind enough to carve out a few hours every day to teach him how
to sew and do embroidery.
He was progressing slowly, but the - honestly, quite unpleasant - company of
the woman just made him sweeter and more eager to spend time with Peter.
He waited two whole weeks before teaching him how to kiss. He started easily
enough, just a peck on the lips, nothing serious. He could still see that it
was giving the boy ideas, so that night, when they were alone, he taught him
how to do it properly. Stiles had been sitting in his lap, instinct making him
grind his groin against Peter’s belly, even though he couldn’t get erect.
Sweet little thing. 
Peter told him that they could do it whenever Stiles wanted it, but he had to
ask for it, since Peter wasn’t a mindreader. Not like he wouldn’t have been
happy to kiss the boy day-and-night, but his wife had to learn to beg sooner or
later.
And this was good practice.
 
***
 
They went to church every Sunday, sitting in the front with the others of
wealth and status. Thankfully, nobody expect Stiles to take part in
intellectual conversation, but Peter loved how obviously uncomfortable he was.
When Stiles asked in the coach on the way home if he could have a grown-up
kiss, Peter knew it was time to step up his game.
 
***
 
That night, Peter got his little toy-box out of the closet. It wasn’t much, he
was a simple man with simple needs, but Stiles’ eyes were still huge as he
looked at the strange instruments.
“Darling. We have been married for almost a month now, I think it is time that
you started preparing to performing your duties as my wife,” he said, stroking
the boy’s back slowly.
“You are still young, and your pussy might not be as accommodating as a more
mature woman’s, so I would like you to practice,” he explained, pulling out a
medium sized plug. He knew that he should have started with a smaller one, but
he was only human.
Stiles swallowed, face red.
“Get on your hands and knees.”
The boy obeyed without hesitation - it was a pleasure to see.
“Very good, my love,” he cooed, pouring oil on his fingers as he pushed the
night-gown out of the way. It was laced with a low-grade aphrodisiac, just to
ensure that the boy would learn to crave any attention paid to his hole.
Stiles jumped a bit at the first touch, but stilled when Peter tutted at him.
“Now, my dear. Soon, your pussy will grow hungry and unsatisfyable. It will be
very demanding of me to keep it sated, so I expect you to be grateful for
everything I give you,” he said as he worked in a finger. Stiles was
deliciously tight, squirming at the intrusion, but obviously not in pain.
“I think that it’s only fair that you should ask nicely for my help and thank
me properly afterwards, hm?”
Stiles whined in reply. That just wouldn’t do. Peter twisted his finger and
added another one.
“Of course, I know that you miss the vocabulary, so I will teach you.”
He waited a bit before he started pumping his fingers slowly. Stiles was
already panting.
“Every night, before going to bed, you will ask me to finger you and plug you
up. Come on, let me hear it.”
It took a moment for the boy to find his voice.
“Ah… my dear, please… uh… please finger me…?”
Peter hummed and quickened his movements.
“Almost, but not quite. You have to say: Please finger my needy pussy and plug
it up nice and tight.”
Stiles moaned, long and loud. Thankfully nobody in the staff would think
anything of it.
“Uh, I… Please. Please f-finger me. And… and plug up my needy pussy, dear.”
Good enough.
“Yes, just like that. I want you to ask me every night. Otherwise I might
forget. I have more important things than your lewd hole.”
Stiles buried his face in the pillow, cock still soft, but dripping precome.
Peter was sure it was time to sweeten the deal.
“Let me show you how a woman reaches pleasure,” he said. It was a tight fit,
but he pressed in a third finger and started teasing the boy’s prostate, making
his back arch deliciously.
It only took a few moments for him to come, flaccid cock twitching and drooling
onto the sheets.
Stiles was a pile of mush afterwards, and it was all too easy for Peter to push
the plug into him, tapping the base a few times just see the aftershocks
zapping through the boy’s body again and again.
He turned off the lights and got to bed, pulling Stiles’ prone form close.
The boy was almost asleep.
“Didn’t you forget something, my dear? What did I just tell you?”
Stiles sniffed, snuggling closer.
“T-thank you for…” the way he searched for words was adorable.
“For stuffing your pussy? For loving on your naughty-spot?” Peter asked,
actually interested in what he would go with.
“Thank you for filling up my needy pussy, my love,” Stiles murmured.
“You are very welcome,” Peter said with a smile.
Oh, what good times were waiting…
***** Chapter 3 *****
It took only half a year for Peter to finish bending Stiles to his will - and
with that, to become the happiest man in the world. It was Sunday morning, and
he was just about to finish reading his morning newspaper in the breakfast
corner when it hit him just how lucky he was. 
***
He let Stiles sleep in, considering how well he fucked the boy last night.
Alan was just pouring him his second cup of tea when the boy appeared in the
door, dressed in Peter’s favorite, powder pink suit. Back in the beginning,
Stiles had trouble adjusting to the more and more flamboyant clothes Peter
bought him, too used to the grey, rough monstrosities he wore in the orphanage.
 But by now, he was all too happy with the bright colors and all the lace and
embroidery. Really, except for wearing trousers instead of skirts, he was
dressed very much like the lovely, lewd lady that he was.
“Good morning, my love,” he said, walking up to Peter and pressing a small kiss
to his cheek. He’d been taught that it was inappropriate to kiss him on the
mouth in front of an audience. Not like Alan would have minded, but still.
Appearances had to be upheld.
“Good morning, darling, have you slept well?”
Stiles smiled at Alan as he accepted his own cup of tea, breaking down the
corner of a croissant and daintily munching on it.
“Yes, thank you.”
Peter hummed, glancing at Alan.
“I shall return with some snacks before church,” the butler said, perfectly
understanding when he wasn’t needed anymore. Peter thanked god every day for
finding such an amazing employee.
As soon as the door was closed, Peter leaned back in his chair, turning the
page of his paper. He wasn’t reading anymore, but Stiles haven’t worked for his
attention yet.
“Darling, can I have a kiss?” the boy asked timidly, putting his cup down.
Peter looked at him over the paper, eyebrows raised.
“Didn’t you just get one?”
Stiles blushed. That lovely little thing never really went away, and Peter
loved it whenever it appeared.
“Yes, but… Can I have one where you push your tongue into my mouth?”
Now that was much, much better. 
“Of course you can, love. Come here and get it,” he told the boy, and a second
later he had a lap-full of his pretty little wife. The newspaper was cast aside
quickly as Stiles leaned in, parting his lips even before their mouths
connected. Such a wanton thing.
They kissed for a long moment, until the boy started shifting, rubbing down
against him. Peter wasn’t lazing around either, running his hand over every
inch of that lithe body he could reach. When his hands cupped the boy’s ass,
Stiles keened.
Oh?
He squeezed down again, fingers searching, and just like he hoped, he could
feel the flat base of their largest plug wedged between those firm, bubbly
cheeks.
“What do we have here?” he asked, it wasn’t exactly a reprimand, but Stiles
never wore a plug before without prompting.
“I… I just. It felt so bad when I woke up and my pussy was all empty… You were
right, I’m craving to be stuffed down there,” the boy whispered in tears.
Peter was almost lightheaded by how perfect Stiles was.
He pulled his wife to his chest, rubbing his back soothingly.
“Oh, darling, of course I’ve been right. What do I always tell you?”
“That I’m nothing more than a needy, hungry cunt on two legs,” Stiles replied
easily. The fact that he barely understood the filth that was coming out of his
mouth just made the words even sweeter.
“That you are, love, that you are. It’s only natural that your pussy gets
lonely, but you can’t just go around stuffing it without my permission. That’s
bad manners. You’re my wife, aren’t you?”
“Yes, yes I am, Peter,” Stiles said, obviously sorry for the wrongs he did.
Just as well.
Peter reached down to tap at the plug, no doubt sending sparks of pleasure up
and down the boy’s spine, if the quiet moaning was any indication.
“So, what will you do the next time your pussy grows needy?”
Stiles whined before replying, rubbing himself against his husband. He wasn’t
even concentrating on his groin - that was useless by now anyway - but on his
chest. Peter knew that those lovely, engorged nipples had to be hard and
sensitive by now.
“I will ask,” the boy said between panting.
Peter slapped his ass hard.
“Howwill you ask?”
Stiles had became quite good at knowing how to use his words and he wasn’t
disappointed now either.
“Ah! Ah… P-please, my love… let me feed my nasty pussy with something nice and
big…”
Peter hummed.
“Passable, but the damage is already done, isn’t it? Are you not happy with the
way I treat you, darling?”
Stiles pushed off his chest, looking at him with wide, teary eyes.
“Of-of course I am! You are so good to me, my love, you…”
He didn’t seem to be able to find the words, but Peter appreciated the
sentiment all the same.
“Well, in that case, I think you should try making it up to me, hm?”
Stiles didn’t need to be told twice, and slid to the floor, opening Peter’s
trousers and pulling his hard, aching cock out. He didn’t try sucking right
away, he had been told that that wasn’t the way wives of his standing were
supposed to act.
Peter fisted his hand in the boy’s curls.
“Yes, darling, just like that, show how much you treasure my manhood,” he
grunted. Stiles did. He dropped kisses up and down the length, fitted his mouth
over just the head and lavished it with his tongue. Such a lewd, lewd creature.
“What do you think of my member, my love?” Peter prompted, Stiles liked sucking
cock, to the point that he sometimes forgot his manners.
“It’s beautiful. You have a beautiful manhood, darling, it’s big and hard and I
am grateful that you let me have it. I love it so much, I can’t wait to make
you feel good…”
Peter nodded, even thought the boy couldn’t see it.
“You’re an enthusiastic little slut, aren’t you?” Not like he was complaining.
“Yes, yes I am, my love, I’m a nasty slut… I couldn’t wait for your magnificent
cock to fill me, so I did it all myself. I’m a… I’m a whore, my love. My cunt
is always hungry and open and waiting for you,” Stiles told him breathlessly
between pressing increasingly sloppy kisses all over his dick.
Peter smiled, but he had quite enough of foreplay. He grabbed the boy’s head by
the ears and pulled him all the way down onto his cock, until the tip breached
his wife’s throat. Stiles gagged, eyes overflowing with tears almost instantly.
He rutted into that wet heat for a few long seconds, only letting Stiles up
when his eyes lost focus from the lack of air.
He was well trained enough not to let Peter’s cock slip out of his mouth, and
just sputtered for a few seconds with the head still between his lips.
“Now, should you preform well enough, I will pull on your naughty titties until
you are screaming with it,” Peter promised. He did believe in positive
reinforcement.
Stiles’ eyes lit up with need and he started bobbing his head right away,
saliva dripping down his chin.
Peter leaned back and closed his eyes, ready to enjoy being serviced, before
something occurred to him.
“And don’t swallow, my love, I want you to sit through church with your mouth
filled with my seed.”
Stiles whined and got t work, like the obedient, perfect little wife he was.
End Notes
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