A Day In The Life (Jared/Jensen, NC-17)
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Title: A Day in the Life
Rating: NC-17
Description: AU. In a world where omegas are just breeders and sex toys with no rights, this is a day in the life of Alpha!Jared's young omega, Jensen. Written for this prompt at spn_otpkink
Beta’d by the marvelous
sylsdarkplace Any mistakes remain my own.
Wordcount: ~4.4K
Warnings: a/b/o dynamics, collared, explicit sexual content, dub-con, watersports, cock warming, gun play, exhibitionism, spanking, bondage, tattooing, humiliation, age difference, bottom!Jensen
Disclaimer: This is fiction, pure fantasy folks. Nobody here belongs to me and they’re not likely to get in my van for candy any time soon.
A Day in the Life
Jensen is imprisoned by blankets and heat. His nose is deep in wiry, pungent hair and his mouth stretches around Jared’s morning wood with lips carefully wrapped over his teeth. The cock rests heavy and blood-hot on his tongue, and he can feel a steady pulse in the vein. Saliva pools and drools at the edge of his lips and he lets it drip uncomfortably down his chin rather than risk waking his alpha prematurely. It feels like it’s almost time for the day to begin, but he is blind to signs of morning light, uncomfortably crouched, under the covers, with his face buried in the skin and scent of Jared.
He tests muscles carefully, with an almost imperceptible clench of each finger, toe, foot, calf, and finally shoulders and neck, but his mouth remains still. It is a wet, soft receptacle to warm the cock of his alpha overnight, and if it cramps Jensen’s back, and sends shooting pains through his jaw and neck, it is not his business to complain. Jared will indicate when he can stop, and what comfort he will provide next.
Pearl Jam blasts through the quiet room, their regular morning alarm, and Jared stirs. Jensen moves with his alpha, scared to fail in his task.
“Mmm, baby,” Jared groans.
One of his alpha’s hands snakes under the covers to stroke through Jensen’s short, soft hair and he pushes up into it, like an eager kitten. Jared scritches his scalp lightly, just the way Jensen likes it, and Jensen sighs around Jared’s cock with a puff of warm air.
Jared taps his omega’s head twice, and Jensen moves his tongue, licks his lips and starts to suck. He hollows his cheeks, hums and engulfs Jared’s cock, swallows it down with little more than a token gag, and breathes with his nose. Jared moans and writhes beneath him, Jensen is grateful that he rarely thrusts hard in the morning, and there will be no knot to accommodate. He doesn’t think it is out of consideration for his omega that Jared restrains himself but a practicality. Jared likes to conserve his energy on working days. A successful business with cut-throat competition does not run itself, and an omega is a poor diversion.
Jensen feels Jared’s rhythm building. He caresses his fingers lightly over the inside of his alpha’s thighs and cups his balls. He licks, slurps and sucks, bobbing his head on Jared’s cock like a good little omega should.
It doesn’t take long. Jared fists both hands into Jensen’s hair and pulls his head down to impale deeper still, and then the alpha is groaning blissfully, and warm come spurts down Jensen’s throat, thankfully too deep to taste.
Jensen continues to breathe steadily through his nose, tries not to panic as he feels the single tap on his head and knows what it means. A tear rolls down his cheek. He thinks he’s adapted well in the weeks since being sold to Jared, but he wasn’t warned, even in the whispers of other omegas, about this particular humiliation, which Jared enjoys every morning, and sometimes Jensen doesn’t think he can bear.
He can’t hide his distress, he rarely can. Jared is somehow tuned to him and Jensen’s inability to do this eagerly, be the perfect omega, infuriates him.
Jared hauls Jensen from the warmth of the bed, by his collar and a handful of hair, to dump him by the side of the bed, before he sits up. “Knees! Now! God, I need to piss!”
Jensen wonders at his alpha’s strength. Jensen is a tall, well built omega for his eighteen years, but Jared is taller, broad, and built for domination. He’s an experienced alpha, and streaks of silver hair denote his age and status. Jared knows how to keep his young omega in its place, and is confident of Jensen’s need for it.
Jensen closes his eyes and opens his mouth once more. He engulfs Jared’s cock and hurries to get it throat deep before the first golden and bitter piss flows over the back of his tongue, and floods his senses and stomach. It smells strong and he gags. Jared thrusts in deeper. It eases the taste but limits his air, and he’s struggling, drowning in piss and come and humiliation. He keeps his head down and eyes closed.
Jared texts and mutters as he pisses, already immersed in his business, but Jensen should have known that he still watched his omega.
“Open your eyes. Look at me, Jensen.”
Jensen forces his eyes open in a single panicked moment. To keep them closed when servicing your alpha is a mark of disrespect, and punishment for disrespect is necessarily harsh. A disobedient omega is of no use to any alpha, and an omega is only ever a change of ownership away from a meat farm or snuff club.
“That’s better.” Jared gives a relieved sigh when the last drops are squeezed out, and Jensen isn’t sure if he means his emptied bladder or Jensen’s behavior. He doesn’t question it. He goes about the business of delicately kitten-licking Jared clean. His stomach rolls, but he’s schooled it to prevent the rebellion of vomiting. He forces a trained smile at Jared.
There’s another beep of the phone and Jared chuckles to himself as he taps a reply. He casually pushes Jensen off him, letting him unbalance and land heavily on his side.
“Get up. Make sure you shower and brush your teeth properly. Get breakfast. You’ll take six, and we’ll work on your service another day, Jensen.”
Jensen notes the use of his name, and it makes him happy. Others who schooled at the omega center with him talked of names being changed with ownership, replaced with the crude truth of what they are, Bitch, Fucktoy, and Holes. He’s grateful too for the explicit instruction to clean his teeth. He is allowed to wash away his morning chores with paste and brush and mouthwash. It always makes him feel better.
Under Jared’s watchful eye, Jensen pees on a stick and they both kick their heels and wait for the result. Blue; Jensen isn’t pregnant. Jared kisses the top of his head. “Never mind,” he says, and Jensen daren’t ask what Jared wants, or what it is he thinks Jensen wants. Omegas fuck and have babies. Who needs to discuss it?
Jensen has to concentrate on Jared, so he stays naked and wet after taking a fast shower. He has strong coffee bubbling within minutes, and Jared’s freshly laundered clothes are starched and neatly laid out from the night before. Jensen is proud of his attention to detail, and Jared seems to appreciate it.
“Hey! This purple tie goes well with this suit. How did you know?” Jared pokes his head briefly around the kitchen door, where Jensen is cooking pancakes, naked save for his collar.
Jensen looks up at his alpha. Silky hair falls softly over Jared’s collar, his broad shoulders accentuate a trim waist, and his hazel eyes seem alive with mirth.
Jensen smiles and this time it is full of affection. Jared is handsome, with a cheerful personality and wide smile. He knows he is lucky that this alpha chose him. Nature will bind Jensen to Jared as firmly as their first knot did, because, for all of an alpha’s strength and intelligence, he needs personal care and organization. Jensen likes to think that there’s more than that between them. He needs to.
He lays a plate of pancakes on the table, places syrup and bacon next to them and adjusts the vase of flowers he arranged yesterday, so they make the table look pretty, and then he pours another coffee for Jared.
“Jensen!” Jared comes through the door, somehow instinctively aware that his breakfast is ready, and points to the second chair around the table.
“Yes, Jared,” Jensen acknowledges him, with a nervous quirked lip.
He pours another coffee, fetches another plate, and pulls the second chair out. Jared likes Jensen to eat with him, and though it goes against convention, Jensen is secretly thrilled to obey him in this matter.
“I think we’ll get your six out of the way, first.” Jared looks around the kitchen, and fumbles at his belt.
Jensen has got used to Jared improvising, and wonders how he ever got to his age without his own permanent omega. He was given a vague background after his sale, so he could care properly for his alpha, and there was apparently an omega who died a long time ago, and a beta who had recently left, but the particulars weren’t made clear.
Jensen grabs the wooden spoon he used to mix the pancake batter and runs it under the tap. “Here, will this do?” he offers.
Jared stops fumbling at his belt and grabs the spoon. “Perfect,” he says. He sits upright on his kitchen chair and pats his lap. His face becomes suddenly stern and cold.
“Come here, Jensen.”
Jensen does. He bends over Jared’s lap, with his hands to the floor, careful not to lean his weight on his alpha, and presents his ass for punishment. It is a skill learned thoroughly at the Center between fourteen years old, when his parents were legally obliged to enrol him for omega training, and his eighteenth birthday when the Center presented him for public auction.
“Such a fuckable young ass,” admires Jared under his breath.
Jared’s punishment isn’t gentle; he doesn’t knead or prepare Jensen’s globes. His arms flex with muscle and the hard round of the wooden spoon crashes down to smack a deep red bruise into Jensen's flesh, beside the purple and yellow fading welts of earlier days. Jared repeats it six times, and Jensen chews his lip, bites back a shriek of pain and thanks him for each blow.
When his alpha is done, Jensen delicately removes himself from Jared’s lap and sinks to his knees in front of him, for forgiveness.
Jared shakes his head at him, “Jensen, you have to get it into your simple omega brain, that there is nothing disgusting or wrong about anything that comes from my body. You cook my food and make my drinks and you don’t add poison, do you?” he cajoles him light-heartedly.
“No! No, I don’t!” Jensen replies humbly, “Of course not, Jared.”
“Well everything that comes from me is sterile, and it is my gift to you. Do not reject it.”
Jared adopts a slight growl his next words, “You have been mine for almost three months, Jensen. Do you know what that means?”
Jensen’s heart sinks. A defective omega can be returned to the Center up to three moths after sale, and the alpha will have a full or partial refund. The alpha doesn't suffer any consequences, but once knotted, an omega cannot survive without its alpha. It pines, develops skin and lung disorders, and cannot properly digest food. It is a slow death sentence, and the Center recoups its investment by resale or prostitution of the omega until it dies of starvation, or at the hands of a sadist.
“My status is to be reviewed, Jared,” he answers meekly.
“Indeed. Your warranty expires.”
Jensen’s heart feels like it is hammering through his chest, he can’t help his terror. “Please. I’m trying. Please,” he begs. His long lashes flutter wet over his eyes.
Jared’s shoulders fall as he looks down at his omega, “I’m sorry, that was mean. I already filled in your review. I don’t want a refund. I think I made an excellent choice. You’ll get past this silly phase, won’t you? Now sit at the table and eat your breakfast.”
Jensen feels sick with relief, but he is going to eat his breakfast because that’s the order he’s been given.
***
Jensen clears the dishes, places Jared’s shined shoes on his feet, and fusses over his tie, fixing the poor job Jared had made of it. He helps Jared on with his jacket and puts his briefcase in his hand, before hailing his driver. He does it all naked, no time to see to himself, and anyway Jared told him once that he likes to see Jensen that way at home.
Jared engulfs him in strong arms and alpha scent before he leaves their house, and he kisses his cheek. “I don’t know how I ever managed without you,” he jokes. “Wear your tight black pants and mesh shirt today, and don’t forget to collect my dry cleaning when you go out for groceries. I approved your shopping list last night, so my driver will return for you.”
Jensen keeps their home immaculately tidy to the beat of music on the radio. Once the bed is freshened, the floors cleaned, and the laundry sorted, there is not much more to do inside the house. Jared has a gardener for the exterior and will not allow his mate to do any chores which involve heavy work or climbing ladders, because he says Jensen is an omega who is only designed to service his alpha and bear children. Jensen doesn’t think he’s any weaker than the average beta, and many omegas are auctioned to work in factories, but it is not his place to contradict his alpha.
With the house neat, he smooths the cushions on the couch, sits on it, and sips from a bottle of health drink that Jared has left for him. He nibbles on a salad sandwich, and practices some relaxation exercises that the Center taught him. He waits for Jared's driver to collect him, in the black SUV with the bullet proof windows and top-of-the-range trim.
Jensen doesn’t know precisely what Jared’s job involves, but other alphas call his alpha ‘Sir’, or ‘Mr. Padalecki’, and Stephen, his driver, carries a gun and wears sunglasses. The first time Jensen went grocery shopping he was aware of Stephen shadowing him, and it has been the same ever since. Sometimes, he thinks it would be more efficient if Stephen did the shopping for him, but it wouldn’t be proper.
In the beginning, the driver’s presence had felt like distrust and a threat, but then, after three weeks belonging to Jared, Jensen was approached by a group of four alphas who crowded him, pinned him to a wall, mocked his collar and tried to strip him. Jensen knows that such attacks are a fairly normal occurrence for an omega, mated or not. They will be raped, told to enjoy it, and when their alpha finds evidence of their omega's 'infidelity', the punishment is vicious, sometimes even rejection. Jensen had fought them bitterly. He'd punched, bitten and screamed, but he’d known what was inevitable.
Except it wasn’t.
Stephen had arrived, gun in hand, with cold, calculating eyes behind his shades, and suddenly there were four bodies on the floor, in a broad slick of blood, and he was helping Jensen away.
Jared came home from work early that day. He didn’t wait for Jensen’s greeting, or their daily small talk. He dragged his naked omega to the couch, threw him over the arm of it, and fucked him, then and there. He pounded his ass, with snarls and growls, and “motherfucking bastards,” “my omega,” “my perfect little ass,” between kisses, nips and gentle caresses, covering Jensen in his ownership.
Jared’s knot had caught and swelled inside him, and with only a light slick and no prep, it had felt impossibly full, too much, and yet too good to stop. He’d rocked into it savoring the pleasure of it against his prostate and yet crying out against the injustice and agony of the cock cage that prevented his own orgasm. Jared had knotted him for what seemed like an age, ordered take-out, put on a movie, and knotted him all over again.
The day after, Jared had tied Jensen to a chair, put a ball gag in his mouth and prepared a set of needles. He had massaged Jensen’s neck before he began to ink an intricate tattoo into his omega’s skin, biting his lip and working with bright, focused eyes and a steady hand. Jensen had squealed when the needles first pierced his flesh, bit into the ball until his teeth ached, but Jared had continued relentlessly, until there was a noticeable tattoo on his neck above his collar. It burned and itched and scabbed for a week and the collar had chafed it, causing constant irritation.
Jensen didn’t complain. He had seen similar tattoos. Both Stephen and Jared had them. Jared told him that it marked him clearly as not just any omega, but his omega, and anyone would think twice before touching Jared Padalecki's omega.
Now, Stephen comes for him, and Jensen picks up the charge card that Jared has given him and locks the house before heading out. Jensen collects Jared’s dress trousers from the dry cleaner. He notes the way they thank him for his business, but they don’t speak to the pregnant omega they serve after him. In the grocery store, the assistant smiles at him and is helpful, which is a far cry from the surly service he had before Jared gave him his tattoo. Jensen feels blessed.
The cell phone that Jared has given Jensen chirps on the way home, and Jensen notices Stephen turn the car around.
'Can you drop by my office?' Jared has texted, like Jensen has a choice. Still, he likes the pretence. He checks in his pocket for lube; it’s not the first time Jared has asked Jensen to drop by.
He walks through the warehouse, with its unmarked cartons and busy forklift trucks, until he reaches Jared’s door. He knocks, and Jared calls out for him to come in. Jensen swallows the breath-mint he’s been chewing and opens the door with a filthy swagger and roll of his hips.
Jared’s assistant is in his office, and they both look around at him. The assistant curls her lip; she’s a thin alpha with a cruel, pinched, face. “Your bitch is here to bend over,” she sneers, and leers at Jensen, undressing him with her eyes.
Jared turns back to her, and Jensen recognizes an ice-blue angry tint to his eyes. He wants to back away, wonders what he did wrong, but Jared is waving him in, while he speaks, “You know I really hate when I have to find a new assistant,” he says to her, and the woman looks confused.
“Yeah, but you don’t need one,” she says.
“I really do.”
The noise and recoil of Jared’s gun is astounding and blood splatters to the floor and over the walls as the thin alpha folds to the ground.
Jared tilts his head at the body, and back at Jensen. “I was going to be generous and fire her for leaking info to my competitors, but I think that was too kind.”
Jensen is pale with shock, but Jared is unruffled, “I found out about her this morning. I wondered if you’d do my filing and type a letter for me? I know you learned that sort of stuff at the Center; they like to pretend you will all lead respectable, helpful lives.” Jared can’t hide the sarcasm in his voice. “Anyway, I don’t suppose you fell for it, but you’re the sort of omega who listens and learns. And I can trust you, but if you don’t think…,”
Jensen stares at the dead body on the floor, “I er,”
“We’ll get it cleaned up first,” Jared offers, even as Stephen careers in with his gun cocked.
“Yeah, of course, I can, Jared,” Jensen agrees, still shocked.
Jared takes him tenderly by the arm, “You shouldn’t have had to see that. We’ll go somewhere, while it’s cleaned.”
Jared sounds stressed, and Jensen remembers his place, “I remembered to bring lube, or I could fetch coffee and donuts, if you want to take a break,” he offers.
Jared visibly brightens, “You’re amazing, that’s a brilliant idea,” he comments with a squeezing hug and a long, searching kiss that wearies Jensen’s tongue and lips. “I know just the place.”
Two workers scatter from the warehouse dispatch office, as Jared tears Jensen’s clothes off and drags him by his collar to a large wooden crate. Jared pulls Jensen, bare back to shirted chest, kicks his legs wide apart, bites and kisses at his shoulders and neck. He reaches cruel fingers around to pinch and pull at Jensen's pert nipples and paw at his tiny, caged omega cock. It’s cold and breezy, and there are clear glass panels that display the naked omega, spread and wanton with his fully suited alpha. Jensen can’t help his shiver and a self-conscious pink blush.
“Gonna fuck your hole hard, boy, show everyone that you’re mine, and they’re gonna know not to mess with you, because any omega who can take me, get fucked by me and survive; that’s one tough omega. Because they’ll know one day, you’ll be the daddy of my child. You’re gonna be big, and round and pregnant and we will both be bitchy and protective and dangerous.”
Cold metal touches the bare skin of Jensen's navel and circles it. He startles and looks down at the lethal barrel of the gun, that Jared has so recently discharged. Relaxation exercise, relaxation exercise he reminds himself as he inhales deliberately slow and deep, and he watches it slide over his flesh, threatening, icy, and thrilling in its caress.
“Good boy,” whispers Jared, in his ear, “They’re all watching, so give them a show. We’re gonna take it slow, let them all see you. Don’t flinch or show any fear.”
Jared’s hand reaches lower, and Jensen feels the chill of metal between his thighs, circling his balls. Goosebumps spread, and he trembles. Jared kisses his neck, and it only makes him tremble harder. He isn’t sure if it is arousal or fear, but his dick strains in his cage, and his balls ache.
When Jared bends him over the packing crate, it is rough and cold and smells of metal shavings. His alpha’s large hand pins him in place, and an oily rag hushes his mouth with a residue that tastes bitter on his tongue and has a smell which burns his nose. Jensen is grateful for the way it hides his face and muffles his yelp.
Lube dribbles on his furled hole, and a finger pushes in. He pushes back against it. Then, dangerous metal circles and pushes for access. Jensen freezes. His muscles contract in protest. Jared thrusts harder, smacks his ass, and hisses at him, “You do what I want you to do. Now fuck this thing, like it’s my cock, and do it like you enjoy it.”
Jared thrusts the gun through his furled muscles, brutally and deep, and Jensen bites on the rag to stop an anguished cry. Jared withdraws it and pushes in again, and Jensen humps back, through his pain, like the obedient fuck-toy he is.
“Again,” snarls Jared under his breath, “Keep going.”
It hurts, it’s cold and the wrong shape, and it scrapes over tender internal flesh. It's too much, continues too long, and Jared isn't stopping or slowing down. Jared repeats the action, again and again, slow strokes and fast jabs, shallow circling and full insertion. The gun pistons in, and Jensen is sure that Jared can’t ensure the safety is on when it gets that deep. And yet somehow there is an intense excitement that builds with the peril, and it hikes his arousal more intensely than he has ever known. There's a sensation like fireworks and bliss as the barrel continues to slide over the nub of his prostate, and the approval in Jared's coarse words is what he is hardwired to crave. This is what he is for. It is killing Jensen with need. His dick wants to be free and his balls are blue. He has to come, and he knows it isn’t allowed. It is never allowed, and he's trained better than that. He is sobbing in despair when finally Jared reaches around, and with one last, harsh thrust, unlocks his cock cage and tells him to come. The sensation is overwhelming, bright white explosive joy, and emotion. Jesus, so good, so good, so good. He collapses boneless on the crate, under Jared’s shadow. He doesn’t see Jared come on him, so much as hear him jacking off, and his blissful moan, “Fuck, fuck, Jensen, so pretty like this, oh-nghh, oooh,” before there's the splash on his shoulder and globs of it in his hair.
Jared wipes himself with tissues, and Jensen forces himself to calm down. He tucks his alpha's cock neatly back into his pants and zips them dutifully, before he is lifted to his feet, with shaking legs, like a newborn foal. He was allowed to orgasm, and it's nothing like he could have imagined, and his brain can't process the overload. He wants to short-circuit, click off, but it's not an option.
Jared grabs Jensen’s clothes and lets Jensen lean against him, naked and vulnerable, “Now we’re going to walk back to my office, where you will get dressed and help me with filing and letters for a few hours. Don’t cry, don’t collapse, and don’t question what happened, because you’re my omega. Understand?”
Jensen doesn’t understand. He is flying on an orgasm high, but he knows what is required. It is instilled in him. He walks with a limp and winces with each step. He smiles, and thanks Jared for being allowed to come. Secretly he wonders if Jared will fuck him like that again. The reward is worth the red-hot soreness and ache, but next time he'd prefer if they were alone.
Jared gives Jensen some painkillers and Jensen spends the early afternoon busy in clerical duties. He cannot bear to sit, and even types a letter standing up. Jared sends Jensen home with Stephen two hours before he leaves work himself.
There’s an awkward silence between Stephen and Jensen, until the driver breaks it with, “You did well back there. It’s what everyone needed to see; Mr. Padalecki in charge; his omega strong and a bit crazy. He lost another omega, a long time ago. His rivals thought he was weak. They killed the kid. Jared took ‘em all out, one by one, but it was too late for his omega. He wasn’t ever going to buy another omega, had no kids on the agenda. He thought he was happy, but he couldn’t choose a shirt or shine his shoes, and he fair near poisoned us with his cooking. Then he saw you, and it's no exaggeration to tell you that your auction was rigged. No other fucker could have hoped to win you. You are never going back to that Center, kid.”
Jensen doesn’t know what to say, he shifts uncomfortably on the seat, “It was ah, good,” drops from his lips, with a genuine grin.
Stephen laughs. “You really are crazy enough for the old crook.”
***
When Jared comes home, Jensen is naked, except for his collar, and he’s back in his routine. The groceries have been put away. Clean laundry is hanging in the closet. Fresh flowers are on the stand in the hall.
He takes his alpha’s briefcase, and helps him out of his jacket and shoes, before holding his hand and leading him to the warmed living room, where a glass of the best whiskey waits on ice, the paper is folded on the coffee table, and the television is set to the sports channel.
“I hope steak and new potatoes will be alright. Today was a little busy,” Jensen purrs.
Jared reaches out to grab Jensen, and pulls him onto his lap. He smothers his omega in kisses, tracing freckles around his neck and over his chest, tickling Jensen and making him giggle. Jensen hugs Jared, with his arms around his neck and buries his head against his chest. “How was your day?” he asks his alpha.
“Oh, work was a pain, trouble with the workers, but then I got a temp and he was a great typist and an even better fuck, so things are looking up. How was your day?”
“Oh, you know. The usual,” chuckles Jensen, “Sex, housework, great sex, cuddles,” then hopefully dinner, a bit more housework, and then to bed to warm a big fat cock.”
“To bed, on my big fat knot, first,” promises Jared, pinching Jensen’s ass till it hurts, “I want to see your belly bulging with my baby and your tits dripping with milk, one day soon, and I’m gonna fuck you like that every single day.”
Jensen kisses Jared, all wet lips, clashing teeth and wandering hands, before disentangling himself to ensure that dinner doesn’t burn.
He checks off his mental list before he encourages Jared to drag him into the bedroom for the night. The house is clean, Jared’s clothes are laundered and pressed for the morning, there is a jug of water and glass by the bed. The early morning alarm is set, there is lube under the pillow, chapstick on his lips, and a pregnancy test in the bathroom.
He relaxes on the bed, with his legs splayed wide, and ass worked open. He tips his neck in submission, with the metal of his collar reflecting candlelight.
He invites his alpha in.
~~~end~~~
Title: A Day in the Life
Rating: NC-17
Description: AU. In a world where omegas are just breeders and sex toys with no rights, this is a day in the life of Alpha!Jared's young omega, Jensen. Written for this prompt at spn_otpkink
Beta’d by the marvelous
sylsdarkplace Any mistakes remain my own.
Wordcount: ~4.4K
Warnings: a/b/o dynamics, collared, explicit sexual content, dub-con, watersports, cock warming, gun play, exhibitionism, spanking, bondage, tattooing, humiliation, age difference, bottom!Jensen
Disclaimer: This is fiction, pure fantasy folks. Nobody here belongs to me and they’re not likely to get in my van for candy any time soon.
A Day in the Life
Jensen is imprisoned by blankets and heat. His nose is deep in wiry, pungent hair and his mouth stretches around Jared’s morning wood with lips carefully wrapped over his teeth. The cock rests heavy and blood-hot on his tongue, and he can feel a steady pulse in the vein. Saliva pools and drools at the edge of his lips and he lets it drip uncomfortably down his chin rather than risk waking his alpha prematurely. It feels like it’s almost time for the day to begin, but he is blind to signs of morning light, uncomfortably crouched, under the covers, with his face buried in the skin and scent of Jared.
He tests muscles carefully, with an almost imperceptible clench of each finger, toe, foot, calf, and finally shoulders and neck, but his mouth remains still. It is a wet, soft receptacle to warm the cock of his alpha overnight, and if it cramps Jensen’s back, and sends shooting pains through his jaw and neck, it is not his business to complain. Jared will indicate when he can stop, and what comfort he will provide next.
Pearl Jam blasts through the quiet room, their regular morning alarm, and Jared stirs. Jensen moves with his alpha, scared to fail in his task.
“Mmm, baby,” Jared groans.
One of his alpha’s hands snakes under the covers to stroke through Jensen’s short, soft hair and he pushes up into it, like an eager kitten. Jared scritches his scalp lightly, just the way Jensen likes it, and Jensen sighs around Jared’s cock with a puff of warm air.
Jared taps his omega’s head twice, and Jensen moves his tongue, licks his lips and starts to suck. He hollows his cheeks, hums and engulfs Jared’s cock, swallows it down with little more than a token gag, and breathes with his nose. Jared moans and writhes beneath him, Jensen is grateful that he rarely thrusts hard in the morning, and there will be no knot to accommodate. He doesn’t think it is out of consideration for his omega that Jared restrains himself but a practicality. Jared likes to conserve his energy on working days. A successful business with cut-throat competition does not run itself, and an omega is a poor diversion.
Jensen feels Jared’s rhythm building. He caresses his fingers lightly over the inside of his alpha’s thighs and cups his balls. He licks, slurps and sucks, bobbing his head on Jared’s cock like a good little omega should.
It doesn’t take long. Jared fists both hands into Jensen’s hair and pulls his head down to impale deeper still, and then the alpha is groaning blissfully, and warm come spurts down Jensen’s throat, thankfully too deep to taste.
Jensen continues to breathe steadily through his nose, tries not to panic as he feels the single tap on his head and knows what it means. A tear rolls down his cheek. He thinks he’s adapted well in the weeks since being sold to Jared, but he wasn’t warned, even in the whispers of other omegas, about this particular humiliation, which Jared enjoys every morning, and sometimes Jensen doesn’t think he can bear.
He can’t hide his distress, he rarely can. Jared is somehow tuned to him and Jensen’s inability to do this eagerly, be the perfect omega, infuriates him.
Jared hauls Jensen from the warmth of the bed, by his collar and a handful of hair, to dump him by the side of the bed, before he sits up. “Knees! Now! God, I need to piss!”
Jensen wonders at his alpha’s strength. Jensen is a tall, well built omega for his eighteen years, but Jared is taller, broad, and built for domination. He’s an experienced alpha, and streaks of silver hair denote his age and status. Jared knows how to keep his young omega in its place, and is confident of Jensen’s need for it.
Jensen closes his eyes and opens his mouth once more. He engulfs Jared’s cock and hurries to get it throat deep before the first golden and bitter piss flows over the back of his tongue, and floods his senses and stomach. It smells strong and he gags. Jared thrusts in deeper. It eases the taste but limits his air, and he’s struggling, drowning in piss and come and humiliation. He keeps his head down and eyes closed.
Jared texts and mutters as he pisses, already immersed in his business, but Jensen should have known that he still watched his omega.
“Open your eyes. Look at me, Jensen.”
Jensen forces his eyes open in a single panicked moment. To keep them closed when servicing your alpha is a mark of disrespect, and punishment for disrespect is necessarily harsh. A disobedient omega is of no use to any alpha, and an omega is only ever a change of ownership away from a meat farm or snuff club.
“That’s better.” Jared gives a relieved sigh when the last drops are squeezed out, and Jensen isn’t sure if he means his emptied bladder or Jensen’s behavior. He doesn’t question it. He goes about the business of delicately kitten-licking Jared clean. His stomach rolls, but he’s schooled it to prevent the rebellion of vomiting. He forces a trained smile at Jared.
There’s another beep of the phone and Jared chuckles to himself as he taps a reply. He casually pushes Jensen off him, letting him unbalance and land heavily on his side.
“Get up. Make sure you shower and brush your teeth properly. Get breakfast. You’ll take six, and we’ll work on your service another day, Jensen.”
Jensen notes the use of his name, and it makes him happy. Others who schooled at the omega center with him talked of names being changed with ownership, replaced with the crude truth of what they are, Bitch, Fucktoy, and Holes. He’s grateful too for the explicit instruction to clean his teeth. He is allowed to wash away his morning chores with paste and brush and mouthwash. It always makes him feel better.
Under Jared’s watchful eye, Jensen pees on a stick and they both kick their heels and wait for the result. Blue; Jensen isn’t pregnant. Jared kisses the top of his head. “Never mind,” he says, and Jensen daren’t ask what Jared wants, or what it is he thinks Jensen wants. Omegas fuck and have babies. Who needs to discuss it?
Jensen has to concentrate on Jared, so he stays naked and wet after taking a fast shower. He has strong coffee bubbling within minutes, and Jared’s freshly laundered clothes are starched and neatly laid out from the night before. Jensen is proud of his attention to detail, and Jared seems to appreciate it.
“Hey! This purple tie goes well with this suit. How did you know?” Jared pokes his head briefly around the kitchen door, where Jensen is cooking pancakes, naked save for his collar.
Jensen looks up at his alpha. Silky hair falls softly over Jared’s collar, his broad shoulders accentuate a trim waist, and his hazel eyes seem alive with mirth.
Jensen smiles and this time it is full of affection. Jared is handsome, with a cheerful personality and wide smile. He knows he is lucky that this alpha chose him. Nature will bind Jensen to Jared as firmly as their first knot did, because, for all of an alpha’s strength and intelligence, he needs personal care and organization. Jensen likes to think that there’s more than that between them. He needs to.
He lays a plate of pancakes on the table, places syrup and bacon next to them and adjusts the vase of flowers he arranged yesterday, so they make the table look pretty, and then he pours another coffee for Jared.
“Jensen!” Jared comes through the door, somehow instinctively aware that his breakfast is ready, and points to the second chair around the table.
“Yes, Jared,” Jensen acknowledges him, with a nervous quirked lip.
He pours another coffee, fetches another plate, and pulls the second chair out. Jared likes Jensen to eat with him, and though it goes against convention, Jensen is secretly thrilled to obey him in this matter.
“I think we’ll get your six out of the way, first.” Jared looks around the kitchen, and fumbles at his belt.
Jensen has got used to Jared improvising, and wonders how he ever got to his age without his own permanent omega. He was given a vague background after his sale, so he could care properly for his alpha, and there was apparently an omega who died a long time ago, and a beta who had recently left, but the particulars weren’t made clear.
Jensen grabs the wooden spoon he used to mix the pancake batter and runs it under the tap. “Here, will this do?” he offers.
Jared stops fumbling at his belt and grabs the spoon. “Perfect,” he says. He sits upright on his kitchen chair and pats his lap. His face becomes suddenly stern and cold.
“Come here, Jensen.”
Jensen does. He bends over Jared’s lap, with his hands to the floor, careful not to lean his weight on his alpha, and presents his ass for punishment. It is a skill learned thoroughly at the Center between fourteen years old, when his parents were legally obliged to enrol him for omega training, and his eighteenth birthday when the Center presented him for public auction.
“Such a fuckable young ass,” admires Jared under his breath.
Jared’s punishment isn’t gentle; he doesn’t knead or prepare Jensen’s globes. His arms flex with muscle and the hard round of the wooden spoon crashes down to smack a deep red bruise into Jensen's flesh, beside the purple and yellow fading welts of earlier days. Jared repeats it six times, and Jensen chews his lip, bites back a shriek of pain and thanks him for each blow.
When his alpha is done, Jensen delicately removes himself from Jared’s lap and sinks to his knees in front of him, for forgiveness.
Jared shakes his head at him, “Jensen, you have to get it into your simple omega brain, that there is nothing disgusting or wrong about anything that comes from my body. You cook my food and make my drinks and you don’t add poison, do you?” he cajoles him light-heartedly.
“No! No, I don’t!” Jensen replies humbly, “Of course not, Jared.”
“Well everything that comes from me is sterile, and it is my gift to you. Do not reject it.”
Jared adopts a slight growl his next words, “You have been mine for almost three months, Jensen. Do you know what that means?”
Jensen’s heart sinks. A defective omega can be returned to the Center up to three moths after sale, and the alpha will have a full or partial refund. The alpha doesn't suffer any consequences, but once knotted, an omega cannot survive without its alpha. It pines, develops skin and lung disorders, and cannot properly digest food. It is a slow death sentence, and the Center recoups its investment by resale or prostitution of the omega until it dies of starvation, or at the hands of a sadist.
“My status is to be reviewed, Jared,” he answers meekly.
“Indeed. Your warranty expires.”
Jensen’s heart feels like it is hammering through his chest, he can’t help his terror. “Please. I’m trying. Please,” he begs. His long lashes flutter wet over his eyes.
Jared’s shoulders fall as he looks down at his omega, “I’m sorry, that was mean. I already filled in your review. I don’t want a refund. I think I made an excellent choice. You’ll get past this silly phase, won’t you? Now sit at the table and eat your breakfast.”
Jensen feels sick with relief, but he is going to eat his breakfast because that’s the order he’s been given.
***
Jensen clears the dishes, places Jared’s shined shoes on his feet, and fusses over his tie, fixing the poor job Jared had made of it. He helps Jared on with his jacket and puts his briefcase in his hand, before hailing his driver. He does it all naked, no time to see to himself, and anyway Jared told him once that he likes to see Jensen that way at home.
Jared engulfs him in strong arms and alpha scent before he leaves their house, and he kisses his cheek. “I don’t know how I ever managed without you,” he jokes. “Wear your tight black pants and mesh shirt today, and don’t forget to collect my dry cleaning when you go out for groceries. I approved your shopping list last night, so my driver will return for you.”
Jensen keeps their home immaculately tidy to the beat of music on the radio. Once the bed is freshened, the floors cleaned, and the laundry sorted, there is not much more to do inside the house. Jared has a gardener for the exterior and will not allow his mate to do any chores which involve heavy work or climbing ladders, because he says Jensen is an omega who is only designed to service his alpha and bear children. Jensen doesn’t think he’s any weaker than the average beta, and many omegas are auctioned to work in factories, but it is not his place to contradict his alpha.
With the house neat, he smooths the cushions on the couch, sits on it, and sips from a bottle of health drink that Jared has left for him. He nibbles on a salad sandwich, and practices some relaxation exercises that the Center taught him. He waits for Jared's driver to collect him, in the black SUV with the bullet proof windows and top-of-the-range trim.
Jensen doesn’t know precisely what Jared’s job involves, but other alphas call his alpha ‘Sir’, or ‘Mr. Padalecki’, and Stephen, his driver, carries a gun and wears sunglasses. The first time Jensen went grocery shopping he was aware of Stephen shadowing him, and it has been the same ever since. Sometimes, he thinks it would be more efficient if Stephen did the shopping for him, but it wouldn’t be proper.
In the beginning, the driver’s presence had felt like distrust and a threat, but then, after three weeks belonging to Jared, Jensen was approached by a group of four alphas who crowded him, pinned him to a wall, mocked his collar and tried to strip him. Jensen knows that such attacks are a fairly normal occurrence for an omega, mated or not. They will be raped, told to enjoy it, and when their alpha finds evidence of their omega's 'infidelity', the punishment is vicious, sometimes even rejection. Jensen had fought them bitterly. He'd punched, bitten and screamed, but he’d known what was inevitable.
Except it wasn’t.
Stephen had arrived, gun in hand, with cold, calculating eyes behind his shades, and suddenly there were four bodies on the floor, in a broad slick of blood, and he was helping Jensen away.
Jared came home from work early that day. He didn’t wait for Jensen’s greeting, or their daily small talk. He dragged his naked omega to the couch, threw him over the arm of it, and fucked him, then and there. He pounded his ass, with snarls and growls, and “motherfucking bastards,” “my omega,” “my perfect little ass,” between kisses, nips and gentle caresses, covering Jensen in his ownership.
Jared’s knot had caught and swelled inside him, and with only a light slick and no prep, it had felt impossibly full, too much, and yet too good to stop. He’d rocked into it savoring the pleasure of it against his prostate and yet crying out against the injustice and agony of the cock cage that prevented his own orgasm. Jared had knotted him for what seemed like an age, ordered take-out, put on a movie, and knotted him all over again.
The day after, Jared had tied Jensen to a chair, put a ball gag in his mouth and prepared a set of needles. He had massaged Jensen’s neck before he began to ink an intricate tattoo into his omega’s skin, biting his lip and working with bright, focused eyes and a steady hand. Jensen had squealed when the needles first pierced his flesh, bit into the ball until his teeth ached, but Jared had continued relentlessly, until there was a noticeable tattoo on his neck above his collar. It burned and itched and scabbed for a week and the collar had chafed it, causing constant irritation.
Jensen didn’t complain. He had seen similar tattoos. Both Stephen and Jared had them. Jared told him that it marked him clearly as not just any omega, but his omega, and anyone would think twice before touching Jared Padalecki's omega.
Now, Stephen comes for him, and Jensen picks up the charge card that Jared has given him and locks the house before heading out. Jensen collects Jared’s dress trousers from the dry cleaner. He notes the way they thank him for his business, but they don’t speak to the pregnant omega they serve after him. In the grocery store, the assistant smiles at him and is helpful, which is a far cry from the surly service he had before Jared gave him his tattoo. Jensen feels blessed.
The cell phone that Jared has given Jensen chirps on the way home, and Jensen notices Stephen turn the car around.
'Can you drop by my office?' Jared has texted, like Jensen has a choice. Still, he likes the pretence. He checks in his pocket for lube; it’s not the first time Jared has asked Jensen to drop by.
He walks through the warehouse, with its unmarked cartons and busy forklift trucks, until he reaches Jared’s door. He knocks, and Jared calls out for him to come in. Jensen swallows the breath-mint he’s been chewing and opens the door with a filthy swagger and roll of his hips.
Jared’s assistant is in his office, and they both look around at him. The assistant curls her lip; she’s a thin alpha with a cruel, pinched, face. “Your bitch is here to bend over,” she sneers, and leers at Jensen, undressing him with her eyes.
Jared turns back to her, and Jensen recognizes an ice-blue angry tint to his eyes. He wants to back away, wonders what he did wrong, but Jared is waving him in, while he speaks, “You know I really hate when I have to find a new assistant,” he says to her, and the woman looks confused.
“Yeah, but you don’t need one,” she says.
“I really do.”
The noise and recoil of Jared’s gun is astounding and blood splatters to the floor and over the walls as the thin alpha folds to the ground.
Jared tilts his head at the body, and back at Jensen. “I was going to be generous and fire her for leaking info to my competitors, but I think that was too kind.”
Jensen is pale with shock, but Jared is unruffled, “I found out about her this morning. I wondered if you’d do my filing and type a letter for me? I know you learned that sort of stuff at the Center; they like to pretend you will all lead respectable, helpful lives.” Jared can’t hide the sarcasm in his voice. “Anyway, I don’t suppose you fell for it, but you’re the sort of omega who listens and learns. And I can trust you, but if you don’t think…,”
Jensen stares at the dead body on the floor, “I er,”
“We’ll get it cleaned up first,” Jared offers, even as Stephen careers in with his gun cocked.
“Yeah, of course, I can, Jared,” Jensen agrees, still shocked.
Jared takes him tenderly by the arm, “You shouldn’t have had to see that. We’ll go somewhere, while it’s cleaned.”
Jared sounds stressed, and Jensen remembers his place, “I remembered to bring lube, or I could fetch coffee and donuts, if you want to take a break,” he offers.
Jared visibly brightens, “You’re amazing, that’s a brilliant idea,” he comments with a squeezing hug and a long, searching kiss that wearies Jensen’s tongue and lips. “I know just the place.”
Two workers scatter from the warehouse dispatch office, as Jared tears Jensen’s clothes off and drags him by his collar to a large wooden crate. Jared pulls Jensen, bare back to shirted chest, kicks his legs wide apart, bites and kisses at his shoulders and neck. He reaches cruel fingers around to pinch and pull at Jensen's pert nipples and paw at his tiny, caged omega cock. It’s cold and breezy, and there are clear glass panels that display the naked omega, spread and wanton with his fully suited alpha. Jensen can’t help his shiver and a self-conscious pink blush.
“Gonna fuck your hole hard, boy, show everyone that you’re mine, and they’re gonna know not to mess with you, because any omega who can take me, get fucked by me and survive; that’s one tough omega. Because they’ll know one day, you’ll be the daddy of my child. You’re gonna be big, and round and pregnant and we will both be bitchy and protective and dangerous.”
Cold metal touches the bare skin of Jensen's navel and circles it. He startles and looks down at the lethal barrel of the gun, that Jared has so recently discharged. Relaxation exercise, relaxation exercise he reminds himself as he inhales deliberately slow and deep, and he watches it slide over his flesh, threatening, icy, and thrilling in its caress.
“Good boy,” whispers Jared, in his ear, “They’re all watching, so give them a show. We’re gonna take it slow, let them all see you. Don’t flinch or show any fear.”
Jared’s hand reaches lower, and Jensen feels the chill of metal between his thighs, circling his balls. Goosebumps spread, and he trembles. Jared kisses his neck, and it only makes him tremble harder. He isn’t sure if it is arousal or fear, but his dick strains in his cage, and his balls ache.
When Jared bends him over the packing crate, it is rough and cold and smells of metal shavings. His alpha’s large hand pins him in place, and an oily rag hushes his mouth with a residue that tastes bitter on his tongue and has a smell which burns his nose. Jensen is grateful for the way it hides his face and muffles his yelp.
Lube dribbles on his furled hole, and a finger pushes in. He pushes back against it. Then, dangerous metal circles and pushes for access. Jensen freezes. His muscles contract in protest. Jared thrusts harder, smacks his ass, and hisses at him, “You do what I want you to do. Now fuck this thing, like it’s my cock, and do it like you enjoy it.”
Jared thrusts the gun through his furled muscles, brutally and deep, and Jensen bites on the rag to stop an anguished cry. Jared withdraws it and pushes in again, and Jensen humps back, through his pain, like the obedient fuck-toy he is.
“Again,” snarls Jared under his breath, “Keep going.”
It hurts, it’s cold and the wrong shape, and it scrapes over tender internal flesh. It's too much, continues too long, and Jared isn't stopping or slowing down. Jared repeats the action, again and again, slow strokes and fast jabs, shallow circling and full insertion. The gun pistons in, and Jensen is sure that Jared can’t ensure the safety is on when it gets that deep. And yet somehow there is an intense excitement that builds with the peril, and it hikes his arousal more intensely than he has ever known. There's a sensation like fireworks and bliss as the barrel continues to slide over the nub of his prostate, and the approval in Jared's coarse words is what he is hardwired to crave. This is what he is for. It is killing Jensen with need. His dick wants to be free and his balls are blue. He has to come, and he knows it isn’t allowed. It is never allowed, and he's trained better than that. He is sobbing in despair when finally Jared reaches around, and with one last, harsh thrust, unlocks his cock cage and tells him to come. The sensation is overwhelming, bright white explosive joy, and emotion. Jesus, so good, so good, so good. He collapses boneless on the crate, under Jared’s shadow. He doesn’t see Jared come on him, so much as hear him jacking off, and his blissful moan, “Fuck, fuck, Jensen, so pretty like this, oh-nghh, oooh,” before there's the splash on his shoulder and globs of it in his hair.
Jared wipes himself with tissues, and Jensen forces himself to calm down. He tucks his alpha's cock neatly back into his pants and zips them dutifully, before he is lifted to his feet, with shaking legs, like a newborn foal. He was allowed to orgasm, and it's nothing like he could have imagined, and his brain can't process the overload. He wants to short-circuit, click off, but it's not an option.
Jared grabs Jensen’s clothes and lets Jensen lean against him, naked and vulnerable, “Now we’re going to walk back to my office, where you will get dressed and help me with filing and letters for a few hours. Don’t cry, don’t collapse, and don’t question what happened, because you’re my omega. Understand?”
Jensen doesn’t understand. He is flying on an orgasm high, but he knows what is required. It is instilled in him. He walks with a limp and winces with each step. He smiles, and thanks Jared for being allowed to come. Secretly he wonders if Jared will fuck him like that again. The reward is worth the red-hot soreness and ache, but next time he'd prefer if they were alone.
Jared gives Jensen some painkillers and Jensen spends the early afternoon busy in clerical duties. He cannot bear to sit, and even types a letter standing up. Jared sends Jensen home with Stephen two hours before he leaves work himself.
There’s an awkward silence between Stephen and Jensen, until the driver breaks it with, “You did well back there. It’s what everyone needed to see; Mr. Padalecki in charge; his omega strong and a bit crazy. He lost another omega, a long time ago. His rivals thought he was weak. They killed the kid. Jared took ‘em all out, one by one, but it was too late for his omega. He wasn’t ever going to buy another omega, had no kids on the agenda. He thought he was happy, but he couldn’t choose a shirt or shine his shoes, and he fair near poisoned us with his cooking. Then he saw you, and it's no exaggeration to tell you that your auction was rigged. No other fucker could have hoped to win you. You are never going back to that Center, kid.”
Jensen doesn’t know what to say, he shifts uncomfortably on the seat, “It was ah, good,” drops from his lips, with a genuine grin.
Stephen laughs. “You really are crazy enough for the old crook.”
***
When Jared comes home, Jensen is naked, except for his collar, and he’s back in his routine. The groceries have been put away. Clean laundry is hanging in the closet. Fresh flowers are on the stand in the hall.
He takes his alpha’s briefcase, and helps him out of his jacket and shoes, before holding his hand and leading him to the warmed living room, where a glass of the best whiskey waits on ice, the paper is folded on the coffee table, and the television is set to the sports channel.
“I hope steak and new potatoes will be alright. Today was a little busy,” Jensen purrs.
Jared reaches out to grab Jensen, and pulls him onto his lap. He smothers his omega in kisses, tracing freckles around his neck and over his chest, tickling Jensen and making him giggle. Jensen hugs Jared, with his arms around his neck and buries his head against his chest. “How was your day?” he asks his alpha.
“Oh, work was a pain, trouble with the workers, but then I got a temp and he was a great typist and an even better fuck, so things are looking up. How was your day?”
“Oh, you know. The usual,” chuckles Jensen, “Sex, housework, great sex, cuddles,” then hopefully dinner, a bit more housework, and then to bed to warm a big fat cock.”
“To bed, on my big fat knot, first,” promises Jared, pinching Jensen’s ass till it hurts, “I want to see your belly bulging with my baby and your tits dripping with milk, one day soon, and I’m gonna fuck you like that every single day.”
Jensen kisses Jared, all wet lips, clashing teeth and wandering hands, before disentangling himself to ensure that dinner doesn’t burn.
He checks off his mental list before he encourages Jared to drag him into the bedroom for the night. The house is clean, Jared’s clothes are laundered and pressed for the morning, there is a jug of water and glass by the bed. The early morning alarm is set, there is lube under the pillow, chapstick on his lips, and a pregnancy test in the bathroom.
He relaxes on the bed, with his legs splayed wide, and ass worked open. He tips his neck in submission, with the metal of his collar reflecting candlelight.
He invites his alpha in.
~~~end~~~