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Dick gripped the strap of his duffel bag nervously, eyeing the gates in front of him. This was all less a house and more of a compound, multiple heavy fences keeping the land surrounded by high iron gates and cement walls. He was no stranger to outrageously large houses after growing up at the manor, but something about entering these gates, to stay with alphas he hardly knew, made him realize suddenly that this was the stupidest thing he’d ever done.
Before he could decide to run in the opposite direction, the intercom box came to life.
“Mr. Grayson?” a stiff voice asked. It was not Mr. Wilson, and that actually called Dick’s nerves. He was an employee, same as all of Mr. Wilson’s other employees. He had a contract, signed by a notary. He had half the extremely substantial payment, already deposited into his bank account. He was not going to be disappeared, not by someone who was in Bruce’s supper club.
He leaned forward, clicking the mic button.
“Um, yes, I’m Dick Grayson,” he said. There was a pause, and a high electronic buzz as the gates shuttered to the side.
It was a 10 minute walk from the gates to the front door, over a flat, green lawn. There were poles set throughout, several stories high, armed with lights and cameras. Dick ignored the part of him noting how difficult it would be to sneak across.
It was for protection, definitely. A safety measure in case of…robbers. Or something.
The house was massive, modern in both architecture and styling, and set into a large hill, which made it difficult to tell how big the building actually was. It certainly looked beautiful, at least. The large Colonial door opened before Dick could knock.
“Richard! Come in, come in!” Mr. Wilson was dressed much more casually than he had been when they met, in jeans and a dark Henley. He looked good, Dick noticed with a slight gulp, his intimidating, overwhelmingly alpha aura ramped even higher in his own home than it had been at the supper club.
“Mr. Wilson,” Dick said, hoping his smile was charming and confident. He was not surprised the alpha had ignored his request to be called “Dick.” “It’s so good to see you again.”
“The pleasure is definitely mine, kid. I’m really glad everything worked out so well. I know dropping things for an entire month can be difficult.”
Actually, it had been surprisingly easy. He’d felt slightly sick, looking through his phone and calendar after quitting his jobs, trying to figure out if there was anyone else who might reach out over the month. It turned out that taking full hours at three jobs didn’t leave a lot of time to socialize.
“You’ve got a lovely home, Mr. Wilson,” Dick said instead, casting an eye around the space. Airy and bright from the large windows, the home was furnished modernly, with dark, neural grays and blacks, steel and leather accents. The impression was as alpha as its owner.
Mr. Wilson clapped a hand on Dick’s shoulder. His fingers felt like they were going to hit his elbow, his hand was so large. “Come, let me show you where you can put your stuff.”
He led Dick upstairs, to a small but comfortable bedroom. Most of the space was occupied by a large bed, but there was a small desk and dresser along one wall, and a door to an ensuite and walk-in closet.
“It’s not much, but—”
“This is perfect, Mr. Wilson,” Dick said earnestly, setting his duffel down in the closet. “And besides, I don’t expect I’ll be spending much time here, will I?”
Mr. Wilson chuckled, shaking his head with some resignation. “No, probably not. I love ‘em, but my kids can be kind of a handful, and especially this close to that time of the year.” He knocked a fist against the door frame. “Well, I’ll let you get settled. We’ll have dinner in an hour and you can meet ‘em.”
“They’re all here already?” Dick asked, surprised. “I thought only your youngest lived here full time.”
“She does.” Mr. Wilson nodded, seeming pleased that Dick had remembered his notes. “Rose, my youngest. But Grant is on break from school already, so he’s home, and Joe’s heat is going to hit first, so. Full house.”
Dick smiled back weakly, collapsing on the side of the bed as soon as Mr. Wilson left. All three of them, huh. If the Wilson kids were half as intimidating as their father, it was going to be a very long month.
Shaking himself free from his worries, he set about unpacking his meager set of clothes, a couple of books, his toothbrush. His phone charger and his phone. A small framed photo of him and Jason, at Jason’s last birthday.
Dick let his fingertips rest on the glass for a moment, studying his and his kind-of-brother’s smiling faces. It had been taken at the social club, actually, the same night he met Mr. Wilson. Hidden underneath, there was another photo of that night, one with Bruce and Alfred in it too. Dick only looked at that one when he was feeling particularly low.
A knock on the door startled him. With a sinking heart, he went to open the door. He wasn’t late already, was he?
“Mr. Grayson.” The beta on the other side of the door was white haired, like Mr. Wilson, but seemed older and more severe. He sniffed slightly, examining Dick over a bushy white mustache. His voice identified him as the one who let Dick through the gate.
“My name is Wintergreen. I run the house here, along with Slade’s other affairs. Do you have everything you need? Dinner will be in about 10 minutes.”
It took a second to remember that “Slade” was Mr. Wilson’s name. Dick nodded anyway, though he felt less prepared than ever. Just 10 minutes left.
“Actually,” he said, stopping Wintergreen before he could shut the door, “would you be able to show me where the dining room is?”
Wintergreen nodded. “Of course. Whenever you’re ready.”
“I’m ready,” Dick said, slipping his phone into his pocket and steeling himself. Wintergreen didn’t move.
“Are you sure you want to go down in that?” Wintergreen raised an eyebrow, looking down Dick’s hoodie and shorts. “Slade usually prefers dinner to be a slacks only affair.”
Something heavy and cold hit the pit of Dick’s stomach. None of the documents he’d signed, or the extra information he’d been sent, had ever included a dress code.
“I didn’t—I don’t—” he stammered. Wintergreen sighed.
“I had a feeling this would happen,” he said. “I took the liberty of supplying something in your closet. If the size is off, I apologize, I was working off an estimation.”
Dick all but ran to the closet. His eyes unexpectedly filled with tears at the black pants and shimmery blue shirt on the hanger.
Get ahold of yourself, he thought furiously as he threw the outfit on. Stop freaking out. You’re not some kind of blushing rose. Just be thankful your coworkers are looking out for you.
The pants were a bit small, it turned out. Dick wrestled them over his ass, breathing a sigh of relief when the button closed around his waist. The shirt was lovely, if a style he’d never seen before; flowy long sleeves that buttoned tightly around his wrists with three buttons, and side seams that didn’t close all the way down, leaving the material to flutter loosely over his stomach and waist.
The only problem was the neckline. It positively gaped open, halfway down his chest.
“Wintergreen, I—” he said, fingering the neckline as he walked back into the room. The beta seemed to understand the problem instantly, clipping the neckline closed with some kind of hook Dick had missed. It settled much more properly against the collar.
“Thank you so much,” Dick said, feeling a million times better. Wintergreen just nodded back, and led him through the halls to a formal dining room. Mr. Wilson was already seated at the head of the table, along with a teenage girl with shockingly white hair, and—
“Joey?” Dick said, delighted. Joey’s head snapped up, and his eyes widened.
Dick! he signed, rounding the table and coming to give Dick a hug. What are you doing here?
“He’s the rut helper I hired,” Mr. Wilson said, sounding amused. “You two know each other already?”
“We’re in the same program at school,” Dick said, still feeling unbelievably relieved to see a friendly face. Now that he was so close, Joey did smell like an on-coming rut, a spiciness running through his usual pinewood scent.
Dick switched to sign. How did I not know your family was from the area? Your dad and my guardian are part of the same supper club!
Joey, far from looking excited, was staring from Dick to his father, a frown worrying his face. You’re going to be our rut helper?
Oh. Yes. Only if that’s okay with you, though. Dick hadn’t even considered how awkward it might make it around their school friends.
I’m fine, Joey signed. But are you sure? We can be kind of a lot, I know. You’re not…the normal helpers my father hires.
“You mean he’s not an old hag?” said a dark haired boy, probably a couple of years older than Dick and Joey with a classically alpha-built frame, strolling easily into the room.
“Grant Wilson,” he said, holding a hand out.
“Richard Grayson, but please, call me Dick,” Dick said, accepting the handshake and feeling only the slightest surprise when Grant used it to pull him into an embrace, an arm around his neck and a hand dangerously low on his back.
“God, you smell good,” Grant said, taking an exaggerated sniff at Dick’s neck. A second later, he was yanked back by his scowling younger brother.
“That’s enough, Grant,” Mr. Wilson barked. “Richard is a guest and you will be polite. Richard, I’m so sorry—”
Dick waved him off, feeling warmed by the protective reaction by his friend and his employer.
“Don’t worry about it, Mr. Wilson,” he said, completely honest. He’d been dealing with alphas like Grant his whole life. “And you,” he pointed a finger at Grant. “You know what job I’m here to do. You’ll get plenty of opportunities to smell whatever you’d like. Unless you’re already completely knot-drunk?”
The girl at the table snorted, getting to her feet. “Or he’s just an idiot,” she said, holding out her own hand to shake. “Rose Wilson. I have a feeling it’s going to be an interesting week.”
Before Dick could do more than shake her hand back, Mr. Wilson waved them to their seats, and Wintergreen came to carve the roast.
As the food was served, Joey turned to him with serious eyes.
You sure you’re going to be okay? he asked. I don’t want you to get hurt.
Don’t worry, Dick signed back, feeling touched. He’d known that he and Joey were on their way to being very close friends, but they weren’t quite there yet. The protectiveness was endearing. I’m not a professional, but I have done this before. A couple of times, actually. And, honestly, your dad is more than fairly compensating me. But are you okay with this? I don’t want you to feel awkward, either.
Joey stared at him for a second, and then his eyes flickered, almost of their own accord, to Dick’s collarbone, still exposed under the loose neckline.
Oh, Dick thought, a grin spreading across his face.
Joey turned a light pink color. It’s fine with me, he said, then smacked Dick on the shoulder upon seeing his expression.
“Anyone want potatoes?” asked Mr. Wilson blandly.
That night, Dick returned to his room feeling much better about the whole endeavor. Rose had a caustic wit that Dick had liked immediately, and Mr. Wilson had been reassuringly at ease with his children. Even Grant had mellowed out, though he continued to send smug glances across the table, much to Joey’s displeasure. It really was fine, though. Dick had dealt with alphas like Grant all his life, and Dick was here to sleep with him. If he got inappropriate outside of those admittedly low standards, Dick had no problem putting him in his place.
The best part had been after dinner, sitting in Joey’s room. They’d never done a ton of talking, one on one, but somehow, there had been no awkwardness. Joey was funny and smart, his childhood bedroom revealing a myriad of interests.
He’d also shared a little bit about the mysterious past rut helpers. Apparently, they were usually hired from an agency, which usually sent middle-aged women armed with cold hands and cock-sleeves. It was, he’d admitted sheepishly, usually a fairly humiliating experience.
Joey had no idea what had changed his father’s mind about the hire this year. But with Grant graduating and preparing to leave home for good, Dick suspected he might be serving as a bit of a metaphorical carrot. Something to remind the kids about the creature comforts of staying close to home.
It didn't bother him. Pack business was pack business. He was just here to supply an omega's touch.
On his desk, a tea service tray had been left, steam still rising from the spout. Dick smiled, filled with slightly melancholy thoughts of Alfred, and examined the included tea package. Sleepy time sounded like exactly what he wanted.
Dropping the bags into the pot, he quickly changed into his pajamas. His phone buzzed on the table, the words “BC REMINDER” flashing across the screen, so he grabbed his birth control from the medicine cabinet on his way back.
Popping one free of the package, he froze, examining the plastic. Usually, after he popped the pill out of the foil, he pushed the edges back into the empty space. There was no reason for this, just a habit, but for some reason the foil of the two empty slots were still sticking out, as though they were newly open.
He closed his eyes and shook his head, hard. What were these crazy thoughts? What, he thought someone had tampered with his birth control? For what reason? Even if the Wilsons were planning something shady (and Joey would never), it usually took months for the heat cycle to start up again after going off birth control. Plus, he still had an IUD.
Setting the pill card aside, he sat down and filled his tea cup, adding sugar and milk. He took a long sip, and used it to down his required pill.
The tea spread warmth through his chest, and he leaned back with a sigh. His emotions and imagination had been running wild since he’d agreed to this idea 3 weeks ago. He didn’t know why it was unnerving him so much. He’d helped tons of his friends through their ruts before. Sure, most of them he’d invited into his nest, not gone to their homes, and the idea of three ruts in a row was daunting, but the principle was the same. And he couldn’t even blame it on them being strangers anymore, because he knew Joey as well as he’d known several of the friends he helped!
He was probably just tired, he decided, draining his cup. It has been a stressful semester, between deciding to take a gap year to figure out if he really wanted to work in business and finance, Bruce’s decision to cut him off, and the move from campus housing to couch surfing between Donna’s and Roy’s.
It had been foolish, to be so blindsided, he thought sleepily. Of course Bruce wasn’t going to pay his rent to not go to classes for a year. Bruce had certainly acted like it was a given, and Dick had already been taking care of his other expenses. But Dick really needed this, needed a little bit of breathing room from the future everyone acted like was set in stone.
And yeah, maybe Bruce might have reconsidered if Dick had told him that his gymnastics gym had unexpectedly shut down, leaving him without the income he used for expenses, let alone rent…but Dick had his pride too…he couldn’t just go running back…
His last thought before falling asleep was that at least things seemed to be working out here.
Dick woke up to knock on his door.
For a moment, he laid there, staring at the ceiling, completely blank onto where he was. The bed was too comfortable to be one of his friend’s cheap box-store mattresses, the sunlight streaming through the windows too bright to be their basement apartments.
Then he remembered. Mr. Wilson. Ruts. Joey.
He sat up and scrambled off the bed, stumbling a bit on his way to the door. Something deep inside him twinged, just a little, like he’d been careless with his stretching. He bounced on his toes twice, trying to shake it off. Maybe he wasn’t used to comfortable mattresses anymore.
“Good morning,” Dick said, smiling as he opened the door.
“Mr. Grayson,” said Wintergreen, nodding his head. “Joey is asking for you. It appears that he is quite close. I can show you to the den when you’re ready.”
“Of course. Thank you, sir,” Dick said, racing into his closet to throw on comfortable leggings and a loose t-shirt. Joey’s rut had started a little earlier than expected, but no cycle was completely regular.
He followed Wintergreen through the house, past the dining room and the front entrance, up two flights of stairs and then down three more.
“The den is quite far away.” Dick laughed a little, trying to sound casual. His nervousness was back with a vengeance, the deeper into the house they went. It was hard to keep track, the windows supposedly all showing sunlight through their opaque paper shades, but by his count they should now be underground.
“Right this way, Mr. Grayson,” Wintergreen said, opening the last door in the hallway.
Inside, instead of a big bed or pile of blankets and pillows that usually made up a cozy nest or den, Dick found himself in a bonafide sex dungeon playroom.
Immediately, Dick felt the blood rush to his face. He’d never seen anything like this before, not outside of the occasional naughty video he’d tried and failed to get off to. The room was brightly lit but completely windowless, save for a small opening at the top of the far wall, showing that they were indeed in a basement. The room’s dark matte walls made it feel small and shockingly intimate, blending in with the thick, spongy mat that covered the entire floor, besides the far corner, where a shower-head had been installed over a drain in the bare cement.
Structures and furniture lined the walls, many of which Dick had never dreamed of before; a massive wooden “X” took up one corner, a strange padded chair and what looked like a dog cage in another. Shackles at varying heights were built directly into the walls and ceilings, some low to the ground and some so high Dick couldn’t jump to reach them. A large glass case showed instruments like whips and paddles and things whose purpose Dick’s blank mind couldn’t begin to guess at.
Comfortable seating had been arranged around a strange metal table, constructed over a thick block of a base in the middle of the room. About the width of an ironing board and half the length, long metal arms sprouted from it in all directions, each one ending in an accessory that seemed designed to hold something down and on display.
His fear loud enough to be a buzz in his head, Dick turned back to the door to find it locked tight, a key needed for both the handle and the deadbolt from this direction. He felt along his pocketless leggings hopelessly, already aware that he’d left his phone in his room, before racing to try and drag the strange chair under the small window. It wouldn’t budge, seemingly bolted to the floor.
“Looking for something?” asked a deep, alpha voice. Slade Wilson slipped into the room, locking the door back up with a key around his neck. He slipped it under his shirt, then stalked calmly forward, to where Dick was frozen by the window.
“I hope you’re not trying to run out on me, Richard,” he purred, sounding anything but put out. Dick’s terror rose another couple of degrees.
“Where’s Joey?” he asked, backing away. There were no other exits. For a wild moment, he imagined wrestling the key from under the much larger man’s shirt.
“Wintergreen is fetching him. He’ll be here soon.”
Dick didn’t even know what they had planned, but the idea of Joey participating made his chest hurt.
“This isn’t what we agreed on,” he choked out, wishing he sounded more confident. Mr. Wilson laughed, taking another few steps forward.
“C’mon, kid. You really thought I’d pay that kind of money for you to, what, cuddle in bed for four weeks? You really think your ass is worth that much?”
Dick’s feet hit something—the cage—and he almost tumbled backwards. Wilson’s massive hand clamped down on his arm, saving him the fall but making him stumble forward, into the alpha’s arms.
Wilson grabbed a wrist in each hand and lifted him like it was nothing, like he was just a toddler swinging from his parent’s arms. When he let go, Dick hung from the ceiling in a pair of leather cuffs.
“Mr. Wilson—let me go—” Dick gasped, his lungs growing tight under his own weight, his shoulders burning. He struggled to get his feet under him, bare toes just brushing the ground.
Wilson said nothing as he tore the shirt from Dick’s back, followed by his leggings and underwear.
Dick had gone into this knowing that he’d be naked for much of it. He didn’t mind having sex if his companion needed to, even though safety and skin-to-skin contact were often more important during a cycle. But this, hanging naked before a man older than his father, being examined like a plucked chicken at the butcher’s—he’d never experienced anything like this.
He flinched as Wilson stepped forward, trying desperately to move back even though there was nowhere to go. Wilson stuck his nose to Dick’s neck and breathed in deep.
“You really are a beautiful little thing,” he said, holding Dick’s swaying body flush against him, running his hands down Dick’s backside. He dug his fingers hard between Dick’s ass cheeks.
“You ready to be good?” he asked, lips brushing Dick’s ear.
“Fuck you,” Dick hissed back. Wilson laughed, and suddenly there was a hand deep in Dick’s hair, pulling his head back.
“Adorable,” Wilson said, and then he stuck a burning needle into Dick’s neck.
Dick lost time after that.
When he came back to himself, he was on his back atop that strange table. Grant was thrusting down his throat, and he could smell Joey, pounding in and out of his cunt.
Stop, Dick tried to say, but he could barely take a breath around Grant’s cock. He tried to move his hands, and found they’d been pulled back and tied to the underside of the table. His legs were spread wide around Joey, strapped into metal stirrups.
He groaned as Joey’s cock hit deep, pleasure sparking up his spine. Fire still burned through him, an ache underneath his hips and his mind cloudy with need. His cock was hard against his stomach, bouncing as he was jerked between the two brothers.
Somehow, a distant, lucid part of him realized he was in the early stages of a heat.
“Look who’s awake,” said Wilson, placing a hand on Dick’s stomach. His touch was so gentle in contrast to the rough taking of his mouth and cunt, Dick couldn’t help a loud keening cry, the sound something a child would make to look for its mother.
Wilson rewarded the sound with a cruel pinch to one nipple.
“This is the best idea you’ve ever had, Dad,” said Grant, thrusting deep and wiping the tears from Dick’s eyes as he choked. “Look at the little bitch take it.”
“Well, I had to find out what was keeping your brother so distracted.” Wilson trailed his fingers down, down, lightly brushing the tip of Dick’s swollen cock. Dick moaned, and then choked as Grant thrust too deep again. “Once I saw the little jewel he had his eye on, how sweet and desperate he was, I knew I had to get one for the whole family.”
“Can’t believe—Joe even had the—balls to want—something this good,” Grant grunted as his thrusts sped up. He pulled out as he came, holding Dick’s mouth open and painting his face and tongue.
Grant laughed, patting Dick’s cheek with two hard slaps. “Bruce Wayne’s bitch. Seriously, Joe, what the fuck.”
Blinking through Grant’s spent, Dick could finally lift his head enough to see Joey. The alpha boy looked blissed out, his thrusts sharp and uncoordinated. His hands were wrapped bruisingly tight around Dick’s hips. His gaze was hazy and vacant, and he didn’t seem to recognize Dick at all.
“Rut inducer. Joey could have been mated to you for 20 years and he’d still only see a set of holes,” Grant sneered. He was sprawled on the loveseat, absently stroking his dick.
Suddenly, Wilson reached out and snagged Joey by the arm.
“No knotting the cunt,” he snarled, pushing him towards Dick’s head. “Use his mouth if you need to.”
“Wait, no—” but then Joey’s cock was deep in Dick’s mouth, working his throat every couple of thrusts. Dick gagged, trying not to throw up as he felt his jaw pried wider, Joey’s knot catching on his teeth and resting heavy and full on his tongue.
Joey was long enough to tickle the back of his throat like this, and Dick clenched down on both a cough and a sob. He’d never stop if he started either, just suffocate in the most humiliating way possible.
Wilson, meanwhile, had wandered out of view. He made his presence known when he stroked a finger right over Dick’s asshole.
He plunged two fingers into Dick’s dripping cunt, then rammed them into his hole, prying it open as wide as he could. Dick’s entire body jerked hard, every muscle straining against the straps holding him down.
“Hey Grant,” Wilson said loudly. “It doesn't seem fair you didn’t get to pop a knot.”
No. A knot in his ass would tear him apart. Dick yelled as loud as he could around Joey’s knot as Grant approached, his smirk clear.
“Daddy?”
That’s Rose’s voice. Dick could just see her out of the corner of his eye. He cried out, high, desperate calls, hoping she’d see what was happening and help him.
“Hey! Settle down!” Wilson’s hand landed hard against his defenseless inner thigh, leaving bright marks of pain.
“Hi princess. Dickie here is just helping out with your brother’s heats.”
“He doesn’t look too happy.”
“Well, princess, remember. Don't listen to his mouth. Little omega bitches never know what they need. You have to listen here.” Wilson’s hand stroked down Dick’s belly, around his leaking cock, to the folds of his pussy. Dick’s face heated up once again, hearing the loud, wet sound of Wilson’s fingers sliding in and out of him.
“Wow,” Rose said appreciatively. “He is really wet.”
Dick swallowed down a sob, gagging as Joey’s dick twitched in his mouth. He could feel the last traces of hope leave him, betrayed by his own body.
He was wet. It didn’t matter that he didn’t want to be. He was so, so wet.
“C’mon up, princess, you can use his little cocklet,” Wilson said, and suddenly he was lifting his daughter and settling her over Dick’s cock. Dick groaned as she pushed her shorts to the side and sank her small, wet alpha hole down.
“My heat’s not due for another couple of days,” Rose said lazily. Dick could feel her stroke her cock, just as large as her brother’s, against his sternum.
“Don’t worry about it, Princess,” Grant said mockingly from between Dick’s legs. Dick tensed, remembering the danger to his ass, inadvertently thrusting up into Rose's and making her gasp.
“Oh god,” she breathed. “Do that again, Dickie.”
Dick began to cry in earnest. Rose around his cock, his loose and empty pussy, the blunt and too big head of Grant’s dick at his entrance…the mix of fear and pleasure and pain was too much.
Joey’s hand touched his face, tracing a wet streak. His eyes were still empty and unrecognizing, but he was frowning slightly.
Suddenly, he pulled out of Dick’s mouth, his knot finally deflated enough. There was a loud snarl by Dick’s feet, followed by the sound of alpha growls and flesh hitting flesh.
“Hey, hey!” roared Wilson, ripping his sons apart. “You two are supposed to be pack, and you’re fighting over the first omega to come along?”
“They’re just possessive knot-heads,” said Rose smugly. She was practically lounging on Dick’s chest, her tight hole clenching as she masturbated her alpha cock.
“Joey’s the one who’s freaking the fuck out,” Grant snapped. “I thought he was supposed to be a mindless fuck machine right now or whatever.”
There were suddenly warm lips fluttering against Dick’s chest; he gasped as they wrapped around a nipple, craning his head up to see Wilson, his hand buried in blond curls as he guided Joey’s head. Dick struggled against his bonds, his empty pussy lips flexing in the open air.
Wilson held his gaze, his one eye unreadable as he leaned closer. One thick, warm hand came up to cradle the side of Dick’s face and he couldn't help melting against it, more sobs bubbling to the surface.
“It seems Joey’s already accepted this little omega pussy as our pack breeding bitch,” Wilson said. The timber of his voice was low and warm and Dick struggled to actually hear what he was saying instead of washing away in the sound.
“I think,” he continued slowly, “we might have scared our guest here, a little bit. As a good pack member, Joe had to protect him from being knotted unprepared.”
Dick couldn’t help a shiver. He caught Slade’s pinkie in his mouth, suckled it in a silent plea. He just wanted to be good, wanted these alphas to make him feel good instead of hurting him.
“Grant, you come take his mouth again,” Slade said, pressing his finger down to the hilt. Dick sucked it down, hollowing his cheeks the way he knew alphas liked. Slade’s gaze was heavy staring down at him. “I think it’s time to give this bitch a real audition.”
He pulled away as Grant stomped over.
“Okay, if I get his mouth, what are you going to do?” he snapped, still sounding put out.
Wilson looked consideringly at his children.
“Rose seems fine where she is—” she gave a lazy, two finger salute, one hand still wrapped around herself, “—and Joey seems to be having a great time with with his mouth—”
He grabbed his younger son and hustled him away from Dick’s chest; a second later, every muscle in his body tensed as he felt a blazing hot tongue lap at his hole.
“You need to relax, sweetheart,” Slade said, stuffing two fingers into Dick's cunt and rubbing one warm, hard knuckled against his clit.
Dick lost it.
He writhed against his restraints, flexing and pulling every muscle that wasn’t tied down. He sobbed loudly, shrieking as he was overwhelmed in every direction; the heady taste of alpha filled his mouth as Grant rammed deep into his throat; the warm tongue drawing maddening circles around his hole, pulling at the rim and leaving bites on his thighs; Rose’s alpha hole, hot and tight around him, as she began lifting herself up and down, using his body anyway she wanted.
When Slade breached his pussy with the biggest cock he’d ever felt in his life, Dick came immediately, slick spilling out and dripping between his legs.
And then he came again, when Slade bottomed out, again when Joey fully breached him and began lapping at his walls, when Grant spilled down his throat and plugged his mouth, when Rose clenched through her first climax.
He came over and over and over, until blackness rose up to meet him.
When Dick opened his eyes again, he was still tied down. He felt shaky and scared and sore. Rose, Grant, and Joey were gone, but Dick winced as he involuntarily flexed his thighs and discovered there was still a knot pulling at his insides.
“Good evening, sweetheart,” said Slade, leaning down to stare into Dick’s face.
“—h’re—” Dick croaked out. His throat was so dry and painful he never wanted to speak again.
A bottle was pressed to his lips, and he almost cried at the taste of cold water.
“That’s it,” Slade said soothingly as Dick drank. “You’re not such a bad omega after all, are you? Just needed a good fucking to remind you of your place.”
Dick drew back.
“Where's everyone?”
Slade shrugged. “Rose came pretty soon after you passed out and wandered off. Grant waited for his knot to go down, and then he took Joey back to his bedroom. He was basically passed out, but he is still in the middle of his rut, so he’ll probably need your assistance again soon.”
Dick felt tears welling up in his eyes. His body ached in ways he didn't know were possible. How could he go through this again for four more weeks.
Slade smiled benevolently, pushing Dick’s sweaty hair from his face. Dick had to strain not to chase the warm alpha smell of his skin.
“Don’t worry, you can go help him the normal way again. I won’t add to his inducers, but I’ve got cameras in his room, so don’t you try to convince him to run away with you or anything. I paid for four weeks and I’m gonna get them.”
Four weeks. Dick quivered and quivered and quivered.
“Why are you doing this to me?” he whispered.
Slade considered him for a moment, rubbing his thumb across Dick’s cheek.
“My boy likes you a lot,” he said finally. “He doesn’t know I know, but it was obvious there was somebody, and it was easy to figure out who. Now, I don’t take kindly to strangers messing up my pack, Richard.” He rolled his hips, pushing his knot into Dick and smiling at his whine. “But I’m not an unreasonable alpha. If my son wants an omega, I’ll make sure the pack has one. I’ll make sure he has everything he wants, right here.”
“I’m not your pack,” Dick snarled as best he could. “When this is done, Joey and I are never coming back here again.”
The warmth vanished, and suddenly Wilson’s hand was heavy against Dick’s throat.
“I don’t,” said Wilson, his face suddenly very close, “take well to threats, Richard.”
He angled his hips so that his knot pulled dangerously against Dick’s hole. Then he relaxed, and his heavy hand was a warm pressure against Dick’s cheek again.
“You’ll be singing a different tune by the end of the month,” Wilson said cheerfully. “After all, what other pack would take you in once you have a baby in your belly? Wayne cut you off just for skipping school.”
Dick was dizzy with the emotional whiplash, but certain words could not be ignored.
“I’m on birth control,” he whispered. The words were feeble, against the numbness spreading through him.
It wasn’t an argument anymore, just a chance for Wilson to explain himself.
“You’re in heat,” said Wilson, patting Dick’s hip. “Or you will be, very soon.”
He was still for another moment, just petting Dick's flank, before carefully pulling his knot free from between Dick’s legs.
“I think it’s almost time for dinner,” he said, doing up his pants. He looked so unruffled, not like he’d just pressured his children into gang-raping an omega. “You have a think about this little situation. With any luck, you’ll be pupped by the end of the week, and begging to take my bite.”
Wilson turned off the lights and locked the playroom door behind him, leaving Dick still tied down, crying in the dark.