Chapter Text
John paced the small grey cell, unable to relax. His time was coming and there was nothing he could do to prevent it. His self-medication had been halted. Mother Nature was taking over.
He was about to go into heat for the first time in his life, and he was terrified.
From the age of 14 he had successfully derailed his omega biology, living on an experimental drug that suppressed his heats and disguised his scent. John had been living as a beta for years. Rather than being subject to an arranged bonding and forced breeding that would have ended his dreams of becoming a doctor, he’d completed his medical studies and was gearing up for specialist training—virtually unheard of for any of his kind.
It would have been very different had John’s parents not been killed in a car accident when he was 11. They had been quite sanguine about their two omega children and would have been content for him to live his life out as a breeder. Fortunately for John, he and his sister Harry had gone to live with his Great Uncle Mick after the funeral. As sad as they had been, the tragedy had changed their lives for the good.
His sympathy for his great-niece and nephew was owing to his own experiences: Michael Watson was an omega, too. In his day, though, omegas were bonded and bred immediately following their first heat. He had been only 14 when he was handed over to his alpha, David.
The abuse started right after their first child was born. David had become increasingly paranoid, jealous, violent and cruel. Mick had managed to give birth to three more children before a particularly brutal beating had caused a miscarriage and subsequent hysterectomy. He’d still been a relatively young man when his husband was sent down.
David had been killed inside: omega abuse rated only slightly above pedophilia in prison.
Mick had devoted himself to raising his children, studying at night while they slept. Once the kids were grown, he’d taken advantage of the freedom his non-breeding status afforded him. He’d gone to university and completed two degrees in chemistry before taking a job as a researcher with a pharmaceutical company. The work was interesting and—more importantly—it provided Mick with access to the information and materials he needed to complete his personal research.
The research that had given John the chance to choose a different life.
John could still remember the day his uncle had explained the birds and the bees to him and Harry. Mick had been kind and very patient, and he had done his best not to make them feel ashamed of what they were. After all, he’d told them, as much as he wished his own bonding could have been different, he loved his children and grandchildren and would not change that part of his life for the world.
But he also knew, having built a life without the constraints of hormone cycles and the perpetual fear of attracting the attention of alphas (and betas, for that matter), that omegas could make other choices, too. And that is what he’d offered them.
Harry, being older, was closer to her first heat than John was. Still, Mick had given her enough time to consider her options. In the end, she’d decided she was fine with breeding. However she was concerned about a forced bonding. Mick had assured her that he would protect her and give her time to choose her own mate. He’d helped her manage her heats and tutored her at home whenever it wasn’t safe for her to be out.
This had raised some eyebrows in their conservative little community, particularly when Harry not only completed university but went on to graduate studies. Unbonded omegas of her age were very rare.
Mick had not been bothered. He’d sparred verbally with the neighbours and shielded Harry as much as possible. He’d given her time to meet her Clara. He’d cried at their bonding ceremony.
But at 12 John had already decided he was not prepared to spend his life at the mercy of his body. Or anyone else’s for that matter.
“I thought that might be the case,” Mick had said with an indulgent smile. “You’re clever and you’re stubborn. And you want to see the world, just like my son George.”
John had been surprised at that. He’d always thought George was a beta. That was when Uncle Mick had explained about the treatment.
John began taking it before his first heat, effectively avoiding any public speculation about his gender. He had been living as a beta ever since.
And now…well, now he was 23 years old and sitting in a concrete holding cell in a government medical facility somewhere in Scotland. It contained one chair and one double bed. And shackles.
This, he had been told, was what happened to recalcitrant omegas and reluctant alphas. In as much as betas could breed, alphas and omegas were still the cornerstone of society and simply could not be allowed to circumvent nature.
He’d been outed in the most ridiculous possible fashion. Following a particularly nasty drinking binge at the end of their final exams, John had passed out at a mate’s flat. He and Roddy had managed to sleep for almost 24 hours, which meant that John had missed a dose. He’d been worried when he woke—Roddy was a beta, but even he would be able to pick up on the subtle change in scent.
Unfortunately worrying had come too late. He’d found Roddy standing outside his door with a strange expression on his face. He hadn’t made any threatening moves or said anything suggestive. Instead, Roddy had just inhaled deeply and smiled. That was when John panicked.
He didn’t remember much of what happened after that, but he knew it wasn’t good. John was not a large man, but he had taken it upon himself to develop physical strength and speed to make up for it. In his hormone-induced state, he’d broken Roddy’s nose and fractured a rib. Or so the Met informed when they came to collect him at Uncle Mick’s the next day.
John had managed to collect another two doses at Mick’s so he’d fended off symptoms for 12 hours. By then, though, the physical examination had revealed his status and effectively sealed his fate.
He’d been alone in the cell for almost three days. He’d been informed that—owing to the nature of his delayed puberty—he could expect to enter his first heat at any time. And that he would be bonded and bred immediately. It was long past due.
He sat on the edge of the bed, fighting the urge to scratch at his overly sensitive skin. The restlessness and the insistent pressure in his abdomen had been building for at least 8 hours. He was so warm it was all he could do not to remove the ugly grey tracksuit he had been issued. As a doctor, he knew exactly what was happening to him: the mucus plug leading to his uterus had softened and been expelled. His passage was beginning to secrete lubrication and his anus was loosening, preparing him for mating.
John could feel the panic rising again—this could not be his life. He did not want to bear children, and he sure as hell didn’t want to be some macho prick’s fuck toy.
He started as the door opened and one of the beta nurses entered. She smiled at him, a little sympathetically he thought.
“Sorry, doctor, but it’s time.”
“Time for what?”
“You’ve been paired with an alpha. They’re bringing him here now.”
“Who is he?”
“I shouldn’t—” she began. Then looking behind her quickly, she said, “He’s the youngest son of a very powerful family. He’s been here for two years for refusing to bond. He’s bright, but he’s a little odd. Says omegas are boring and he won’t be tied to an idiot.”
“Why me?”
“John, you’re a doctor. You’re clever and you’re strong-willed. You may be an omega, but you aren’t boring.”
John’s breath hitched in his throat. So this was really happening. His head drooped as he considered his future. At the very least, he supposed, he and his children would be well taken care of.
The nurse stepped forward and held out a hospital gown. “Sorry, I have to take everything else.”
John’s cheeks blazed as he turned away and stripped out of the tracksuit. He knew his arse was leaking and he could feel the nurse staring. He pulled the hospital gown on and retreated to the far corner of the room. She collected the clothing from the floor and shot him another pitying glance.
She stepped out, but the door did not close. Two of the orderlies appeared.
“NO!” John shouted, casting a fearful eye at the shackles on the wall.
He put up a fight—one of them would have a black eye come morning and the other would probably lose two teeth—but in the end he was beaten.
He wept into the rough bedclothes, lying facedown on the bed, his arms chained to the wall above his head, the hospital gown parted to expose the most sensitive part of his quivering body.
It was unnecessary, he knew. Though he’d never experienced it himself, he was aware that once he was in the full throes of heat there would be no way he would be able to resist penetration anyway. He’d be begging for it. He supposed the chains were another part of his “re-training”—a tangible reminder of his status and the consequence of his attempts to beat the system.
The orderlies left and slammed the door behind them.
John could feel the tension building in his core; he had never been so aroused or so aware of his body. It was starting.
The feel of the bedclothes against his somewhat larger-than-average-omega cock became unbearable. He moaned into the mattress and began to grind against the blankets, welcoming the friction.
Distantly he was aware of scuffling in the hallway. The door opened again and there was considerable shouting. Someone was pushed into the room as the lights dimmed.
“I will NOT be forced to bond!” a deep, cultured young voice bellowed as the door closed again.
John was panting now; he could smell him. Alpha. Very potent. He moaned in spite of himself, the aching in his arse becoming so painful he could not remain still. He began to thrash on the bed, biting his lip to prevent himself from begging.
He could hear him moving. John turned his head to the side and could just make out a shape beside him. The new inmate had crouched down beside the bed. John inhaled deeply, unable to control the need to absorb the powerful alpha scent so close to him.
“Why did they have to do this to you?” the deep voice snarled.
John’s eyes were glazing over as lust began to overtake his rational mind. He wished he could see him. God he sounded so young. Was he even16?
“I’m 18,” the young man spoke again. John realized he must have spoken the question aloud. The young alpha seemed to be under remarkable control, considering the pheromones in the room. His movements were measured and his voice betrayed no evidence of his arousal. He was fighting it, but he wouldn’t be able to hold out for long.
“I hate this,” he hissed. John could hear him retreating.
John moaned as another wave hit him, fluid was running freely between his legs now. His own cock was painfully hard and the burning in his rear passage was unbearable. He needed…he needed…
“Please,” he begged. “Oh, god, I need your cock in me. Please, please, please”
John hated the sound of his own voice, despised his weakness, but his body’s needs were overwhelming.
“Please fuck me. Please,” he sobbed.
“No!”
John jerked at the shackles on his wrists, irrationally attempting to release one hand to put something—anything—into his arse. The moaning had become a desperate keening now.
There was a growl. “I don’t want this. And I don’t want to do this to you. I—” John heard him inhale deeply, almost against his will. “Fuck you smell so—“
“I don’t want…can’t stop,” John groaned.
The young man moved swiftly to the bed near John’s head. “I can fix this,” he panted. “I’ll fuck you, take the edge off, but I won’t bite you and I won’t breed you. Trust me?”
John nodded, not even sure what he was agreeing to anymore as long as the torment stopped. A long-fingered hand smoothed the damp hair from his brow—a surprisingly tender touch from an alpha.
“I wish I could see you. I bet you are beautiful,” the young man said, allowing his hands to glide over John’s broad shoulders and back. “So strong.” He walked around to the end of the bed and climbed up behind John.
“Yes, fuck me, please,” John begged again, his legs spreading wide. His passage was throbbing now.
John felt a warm mouth pressing wet kisses into the small of his back. A hand parted the globes of his arse gently and a finger eased past his swollen anus.
“God, yes!!!” John’s back arched and his bottom lifted off the bed toward the welcome intrusion.
The young man didn’t waste time—he replaced one finger with two and proceeded to fuck John fast and hard with his fingers.
“More please!”
“I know what you want,” the deep voice assured him, the fingers suddenly disappearing.
John could feel a long lean body stretching out over his back, the hard round head of the alpha’s cock pressed up against his entrance. “Fuck me, I need your cock.”
“Then that’s what you shall have,” the deep voice rumbled in his ear.
John howled as the huge member thrust home. His body instinctively clamped down around it, dragging against the friction, thrashing as the young man withdrew and sank back into his moist heat.
John moaned as they quickly found a rhythm. They fit together so well, almost as though they’d been made for this. His knuckles were white where his hands gripped the chains at his arms. The slap of skin against skin, the wicked sucking noise of the cock sliding in and out of his saturated entrance. John knew he wouldn’t last long.
The young man was moaning now. “So hot, so fucking hot. So tight. You’re mine now. Mine.”
“Yes,” John agreed quickly as his alpha hit each and every one of his sensitive glands in turn. He was shaking with want; he was going to come soon.
“You’re going to come, aren’t you? I can feel you tightening up—fuck, yeah, just like that. You were made for this. You were made for me.”
John moaned his agreement. He was beyond rational thought now. His body began to tense as his orgasm started.
“Oh, god!” He could feel his own cock pulsing beneath him and his internal walls clenching around the hot hard prick in his arse.
The young man shouted and fell against his back, continuing to thrust. “Gotta stop now—I have to pull out before—fuck you smell so good—mine—mine—”
John was hardly aware of the soft warm mouth descending to his neck until he felt teeth. The young man was biting him; they were going to bond. His eyes were wide; he was shocked by the feeling but powerless to do anything other than bite his own lip and incline his head to allow his alpha a better angle to suck at the now-broken skin.
He could feel the young man tense immediately. The noise he made was almost unearthly. And he was gone. The warm cock had left John and he was bereft on the bed.
“NO!!! No, no, no!!!’ You fucking bastards!” The young man was pounding on the door now. “You will not make me breed—Mycroft, you son of a bitch! You cannot break me!!!”
John was in a haze. His own climax had taken some of the urgency away, but his vagina was still throbbing. His body wanted to be bred. He could feel the blood trickling from the bite mark on his neck. Somewhere, behind the incessant screaming of his body’s needs, his doctor’s mind was evaluating the bite. It was deep enough, and the young man had sucked long enough for his saliva to penetrate. John’s body was marked. He belonged to his alpha now.
John heard the door opening. There was a struggle and shouting and the sound of someone being dragged away.
The nurse appeared at John’s side; he opened one eye to look at her as she checked his neck.
She turned to address someone behind them. “The bond is complete, sir.”
There was a sound of displeasure and frustration and then the click of hard-soled shoes retreating down the hall.
The nurse turned back to John. “Please,” he sobbed, the tension in his body had become unbearable.
“I’m so sorry,” she said sadly. She unlocked the shackles at his wrists and rubbed them for him as she rolled him over. John moaned as his arse rubbed against the bed. “It’s okay. I’ll give you something to sleep through it.”
John felt the injection, and then…nothing.