Very Kinky Shit

by Oil_Painting_All_In_Black (ao3)

Chapter 1: Table of Contents

Below, please find a table of contents that will be continuously updated so that you can navigate to your preferred kinks, pairings, or chapter.

If you aren't going to read the fic linearly, it is recommended to at least start by reading the chapter First Times for vital worldbuilding context. It’s a short chapter (~1k).

Things to know before starting the fic:

• The alpha and omega genes are carried on the Y-chromosomes, meaning that only those assigned male at birth can be an alpha or omega
• Omegas have an extra hole called an “omega hole”. Omega holes are public property and can be used at any time by any alpha, or by a beta with the express permission of the omega’s owner (or “Alpha” with a capital A)
• Omegas don't have a vulva, labia, or clitoris
• Omegas don’t have a womb and cannot get pregnant

More in-depth details of this universe (such as alpha/beta/omega biology and anatomy and socio-politics) can be read in detail here: Very Kinky Universe.

If you're reading on mobile, rotate your screen to be able to see all of the table columns at once!

Chapter Guide

Chapter 2: Playing with Legos

“Sam! Dean!” John called up the stairs. He had to walk over to the foot of the steps since the boys couldn’t hear him from the kitchen. “It’s almost time for dinner! Finish playing and wash your hands, then come to the table!”

While he waited for the boys to come down, he drained the pasta in the sink, then started scooping the noodles out of the strainer and into the big pasta bowl. He set it out on the dinner table along with the bowls of steamed veggies and meat sauce. After a few minutes, Sam skidded into the kitchen and nearly crashed into the counter as he went to open the silverware drawer; it was his chore to lay out the utensils, and Dean’s to set the plates.

“Hold it, Sammy. Let me see your hands.”

Sam froze, fingers hovering over the forks, and then sighed and turned to hold up his little hands for his Alpha to inspect. John took his wrists and leaned over to sniff his fingers.

“Sam, your fingers stink of omega slick. You forgot to wash them again. You know you're always supposed to wash your hands right after you finish playing with your brother.”

Sam tugged his arm away and pouted. “Yeah, Dad, I know. Sorry.”

“Go on, then.” He released Sam’s wrists and the young alpha trotted over to stand on the little kid’s stool that they kept by the kitchen sink to turn on the faucet. John kept an eye on him to make sure he used soap. When Sam was done and had finished setting out the silverware, Dean still hadn’t come down yet.

“What’s taking your brother so long?” John asked with a little annoyance. It was mostly rhetorical, but when John caught Sam’s sheepish expression, he put his hands on his hips. “Sam? Do you know what’s holding your brother up?”

“I dunno,” he muttered. “I was playing with him in the playroom, and when you called us for dinner, I came right down! I figured he’d be right behind me.”

John cocked an eyebrow at his son. “Was he tied up?”

“No! I didn’t tie him up! I would’ve untied him first if I had!”

Sighing, John dropped his hands and shook his head. “Well, come on, Sammy. Let’s go see.” He left the kitchen and made his way upstairs to the playroom, making sure his youngest son was following close behind him.

When they entered the room, it was easy to spot Dean. The young omega was fully naked – he always was when they were at home – and lying on his back in the middle of the colorful patterned play rug with the train tracks on it. His legs were widely splayed with the knobby knees of his skinny bowlegs turned outward, and between them his little omega cock was soft and sweetly twitched along with each of his shaky breaths. John could see his cunt just underneath it, nestled behind his small balls, the tender pink gape winking slickly at him. Dean’s pretty, freckled face was wet with tears, and both arms were gingerly crossed over his abdomen. He didn’t seem visibly incapacitated.

“C’mon, Dean,” John said, gentle but stern, as he stood over the young omega. “You know what happens if you lollygag. Do you want to miss out on dinner?”

Dean hiccupped and sucked in a shaky, shallow breath. “I’m sorry, Alpha, I'm not trying to lollygag. I’ve tried to get up, I really have, but I can't. I really can't!”

John raised his eyebrows and looked over again at Sam, who had crossed his arms and was pouting at the floor.

“Sammy, did you play with your brother too hard?”

“No,” Sam protested. Dean whimpered and Sam relented. “I dunno. Maybe. I didn't mean to!”

“You didn't mean to fuck your brother with something so hard that he couldn't stand after?” John asked wryly. 

“I didn't fuck him!” 

“Well, what did you do to him, then?” John asked, spreading his hands.

“We were playing Legos with the new Star Wars set," Sam started huffily, crossing his arms and scowling at the ground. "And I wanted to pretend Dean's hole was the space worm in Empire Strikes Back and fly the spaceship into it. But Dean didn't wanna ‘cause he said it wouldn’t feel good and he wouldn't like it. And I said, I said it doesn't matter ‘cause he's an omega and he’s supposed to let me do anything I want, but he still said no ‘cause he said it wouldn’t fit. And I told him it would, I bet probably I could fit all the Legos in there, but he didn't believe me, so I showed him!”

Dean sniffled again, and John turned back to his eldest son. He walked forward to where Dean was trembling on the floor and crouched down beside him. 

“Is he telling the truth, Dean? Is that what happened?”

Dean nodded despondently, and John reached out to gently move the omega’s arms away from where they shielded his stomach. He sucked in a breath. With Dean’s arms moved out of the way and this close up, he could see that not only was Dean’s belly visibly distended, but the surface of the soft, pale skin was lumpy and misshapen. John set his own palm down onto the quivering skin and felt Dean’s breath hitch. His large hand easily covered the entire span of Dean’s abdomen, and he could feel the hard angles of the little plastic blocks under Dean’s thin layer of belly fat when he applied just a little pressure. Awed at the sensation of being able to feel the Legos through his omega son’s swollen belly, John couldn't help himself from continuing to press down and move his hand around.

“Nngh,” Dean whimpered, and raised his hands up to cover his face.

“See, Dad?” Sam said, now sounding perkier after seeing that his dad wasn't mad at him. “I got so many of them in there. The whole set, plus half the Indiana Jones one!”

“You sure did, buddy,” John responded indulgently. “You really packed them in there.”

“Even though he said I wouldn't be able to!”

“Well, omegas have never been the best judge of their own limits,” John chuckled. “That's why they have to let us alphas decide what to put in their holes. I'm proud of you, Sammy, for remembering that and doing it even though your big brother told you not to. In a safe environment like this, it's good practice for Dean for when he's out in public and an alpha he doesn't know wants to use his hole for something. Right, Dean?”

He rubbed his hand over Dean’s taut, lumpy stomach in a soothing circle, feeling a few Legos shift under his hand and causing Dean’s legs to twitch and his messy cunt to spasm in response. A little blurt of slick slipped out and dripped onto the rug. Hands still covering his face, Dean nodded.

“Yes, Alpha.”

“I’m proud of you too, Dean,” John added kindly. “For being a good omega and letting your little brother try something new with your hole, even though you didn't want him to. Do you remember why that's important?”

“Because…” Dean sniffled behind his fingers and gave a little squeak when another gentle rub of John’s hand made a few more blocks shift inside of him. “B-because what an omega wants isn’t always what's best for it. So it should always do whatever an alpha says.”

“That's right. Because your omega body was made for alpha pleasure, so whatever pleases an alpha pleases you.”

Dean nodded and tried to say something further, but his words came out garbled and nonsensical behind his trembling hands as his father continued to rub his overstuffed tummy. John wasn't concerned; the omega channel, even for young omegas, was incredibly durable and elastic. It was able to stretch and accommodate objects many times larger than an above-average adult alpha cock – and even strangely shaped objects – without damage. It's part of what made playing with their bodies such a safe and engaging activity.

“And Sammy is at an important developmental stage; exploring the omega body and experimenting with the omega hole is very normal and healthy for him right now. Letting him test the limits of your hole and see what he can do to it is good for him.” John turned away from his twitching eldest son, who was still keening under his ministrations and leaking slick onto the rug, and smiled at Sam. His youngest son had joined them and was kneeling between Dean’s splayed legs, watching his dad mess around with his brother’s lumpy stomach. 

“Yeah, Dean, it's good for me,” Sam told his big omega brother. “I'm developing.”

John smiled and shook his head at his cheeky alpha son, then turned his attention back to Dean’s stomach. “So tell me, boys, what’s a space worm?”

“It’s the best part of the movie!” Sam exclaimed, bouncing with excitement. “Han Solo tries to hide the Millenium Falcon – that’s his spaceship – in a cave on a asteroid, but then they find out that actually it’s not a cave at all, it's the inside of this super giant worm!” Sam spread his arms wide to demonstrate. “And they have to fly outta there before it closes its mouth and swallows them! And I remembered that the inside of Dean’s hole is all pink and wet, like inside a mouth, and it’s always so hungry to eat things up! Just like the space worm!”

John couldn’t help but laugh at Sam’s exuberant hand gestures as the little boy chattered with enthusiasm. “That sounds very cool, Sammy. I think it's real creative of you to try to incorporate your brother’s hole into your game like that.” He took a hand off of Dean’s stomach and used it to ruffle Sam’s hair. “I’m sure your mom would’ve enjoyed that, too. She loved Star Wars. And now that you and Dean both know that the Lego spaceship will fit, I'm sure you can play that tomorrow.”

Sam perked up. “Really? Hear that, Dean?”

“Yes, Sammy,” Dean whispered. “I’ll be a good space worm for you. You can play inside me tomorrow, I won’t say no this time.”

Sam cheered happily, and Dean finally pulled his hands away from his face to blink at both of his alpha family members with shining green eyes. John smiled at the sight of his boys in agreement; he wished Mary was still alive to see how well they played together.

“Now that we're all on the same page; Dean, tell me what’s keeping you from getting up.”

Dean bit his lip and timidly looked up at his dad. “Sammy put so many of them inside that I can't move my legs,” he told John in a soft voice. His eyes started watering again. “They won't close, they really won’t. And when I tried to sit up it felt scary. And I couldn’t get ‘em out myself.”

John frowned with concern and lowered his hand to Dean’s little cunt. It was slippery with slick and gaped pinkly. He could only dip his fingers barely half a centimeter into it before his fingertips ran up against a hard barrier of plastic blocks. Sliding his fingers around and pressing against the foreign mass gingerly with no give, John could feel that Sammy had, indeed, jam-packed his toys so tightly into Dean’s omega channel that they couldn’t even move against each other. John wrapped a hand around each of Dean’s soft thighs and very very slowly, with gentleness and great care, tried to rotate them to close his legs a little bit. He found that he couldn’t budge his son’s knees even a millimeter before the bones of his upper thighs met resistance and Dean let out a soft noise, wincing. There was simply no physical way for poor Dean to close his legs, let alone try to sit up or stand.

“Sam,” John reprimanded, really and truly angry now. “You know better than to leave your brother alone after you've stuffed him so full like this! He can’t even move! Forget making him late for dinner, what would have happened to him if there was an emergency? If there was a fire? Being a responsible alpha means never leaving an omega alone after playing with it without first making sure that it’s okay.”

Sam hung his head. “I'm sorry, Dad. I didn't even know he couldn't move, I promise.” The boy sounded truly apologetic.

“Thanks for apologizing to me, Sam, but you need to say sorry to your brother, too.”

Sam sniffed and turned to face Dean. “I’m sorry, Dean. I should’ve stayed behind to make sure you could get up before going to dinner.” The little boy pouted and raised his hands to rub the tears from his eyes. John saw Dean’s expression soften at the sight of his brother so upset.

“It’s okay, Sammy. You didn’t m-mean to.”

Sam smiled tearfully, and Dean hesitantly smiled back. Proud of his children for making up so sweetly, John patted Sam on his back and then Dean on his drippy, swollen cunt.

“Good boys. Now, Sammy, since you put the toys in your brother, you need to take them out. Get to it, kiddo. You need to be very slow and gentle; you packed them in so tight that if you aren’t careful, it’s gonna hurt him.”

“Okay, Dad.”

It was difficult for Sam at first. He stuck his little fingers into his brother’s cunt and tried to feel around for a loose Lego like he was fishing for an easy block to remove in a game of Jenga. Unfortunately, they were packed together so close at the mouth of Dean’s hole that after a few minutes of fruitlessly feeling around, Dean whimpering all the while, the only thing Sam could do was wedge his fingers as far as he could between the Legos and the wall of Dean’s omega channel and pull.

With a keening cry from Dean, the small cluster of Legos that had plugged up the mouth of his hole shot out with a soft clatter along with a squirt of slick. Dean’s wail tapered off into a whining, pained moan as Sam looked up at his face with concern and moved his hand to pet Dean’s still-bulging stomach in a childish attempt to soothe him.

“I’m sorry, Dean, I’m sorry! Are you okay?”

After a moment in which Dean could only make a few cute little hurt noises as he shuddered and trembled, Dean finally nodded.

“Yeah, Sammy, I’m okay. S-sorry. You can keep going. P-please.” His jaw was clenched and brows set with determination, eyes bright as he braced himself for more.

Luckily, it seemed like removing the handful from the entrance of his hole had loosened up the rest. Though it still took a while, since Sam had been able to stuff so many inside, the rest came fairly easy. Soon there was a small but growing pile between Dean’s legs, and Sam was reaching deep into the omega’s channel, easily slipping his whole hand inside and rummaging around for more Legos to pull out. He didn’t seem too happy with his chore – John heard his tummy rumble with hunger a few times – but he was persistent. Dean, for his part, mewled and keened each time his little brother’s hand disappeared inside him. He didn’t seem to know where to put his own hands; they flew from his face to his chest to his shrinking belly and back up again, fingers curling and straightening at the overwhelming sensations.

Some folks said that omegas getting all slicked up for anything you tried to put into them wasn't really a sign that they wanted it, but simply a natural mechanism that they had evolved to protect against friction and injury. But John had raised Dean from a baby and knew his sweet omega son better than the silly little thing knew himself. He knew how to touch Dean’s body to make him squirm and cry out, and what to say to make his little cunt blurt slick down his inner thighs. He knew that Dean loved his alpha father and little brother more than anything, and that the only thing in the world that truly fulfilled him was making John and Sam happy. Which meant that regardless of what the omega thought he wanted, what he truly desired was to do anything that John or Sam wanted of him. 

This was all clear as day to John as he watched Dean tremble and spread his legs even wider, offering his sweet gape to Sam so that the smaller boy could finish collecting all the Legos that were still packed deep inside. The little plastic toys were glossily coated with a thick layer of omega slick as Sam pulled them in small handfuls from Dean's quivering, pink hole. The way that the omega gasped and mewled – face and chest flushed and green eyes shiny with unshed tears – each time his little brother’s slick-slimy hand disappeared back inside of him was evidence enough that, regardless of what Dean thought he wanted, this was what he was made for.

With kind-hearted love and fatherly pride, John allowed himself to admire Dean’s willingness to push aside his own faulty wants and wishes and accept that his alphas knew what was best for him. Dean was a perfect omega; any alpha would be lucky to have him, and he was all John’s.

Finally, Sam sat back on his heels, a pile of slimy Legos in front of his knees between the vee of Dean’s splayed legs. Even having seen the way that they'd made Dean’s belly bulge and having felt how tightly packed they'd been inside the omega’s channel, John thought that the pile looked too big to be true. Sam made an ‘icky’ face at the arm he'd been using to pull the toys out of his brother’s fluttery, stretched hole; it was wet from fingertip to elbow in slick, so much of it that it was dripping. There was a wet spot on the rug under Dean’s hips.

As for Dean, he looked fucked out: blond hair damp and sticking to his forehead, long eyelashes clumped with salty tears, body flushed, and cunt gaping so wide that the darkness of his deep channel was visible inside the slippery pink of his stretched rim like a black hole. His arms were finally still, spread out straight on either side, palms up, with his legs still spread wide so he looked like a starfish. His chest rose and fell with big, relieved breaths. 

The little omega’s cock was stiff now after all the use his cunt had gotten. It was pointing up at the ceiling, and John took pity on his worn-out son and reached out to take it between his thumb and forefinger and give it a few delicate tugs. With a shaky noise that was more a whimper than a moan, Dean’s eyes squeezed closed and he finally came in a small spurt that arced up and then landed on his blessedly-deflated tummy, making Sam giggle. His cunt spasmed, tired walls clenching until it was all pink and glistening again, another wave of slick spitting out to join the puddle on the rug; but when the aftershocks were finished, the channel walls slackened out again to show off the darkness at his center.

“You did good, Dean,” John praised, rubbing the boy’s spend into the milky skin of his sore belly. It wasn't white and tacky like alpha or beta cum, but clear and slippery like the slick that his omega hole produced. “Now, why don’t you sit up. We’ll leave the Legos here for now so dinner doesn't get too cold, and you can clean them before dessert.”

John helped Dean sit with a hand under his back. The boy’s legs were still spread hugely and his used cunt twitched when it brushed the soaked fibers of the rug. Nervously, he wrung his hands. Looking confused and uncertain, his eyes darted from Sam to the filthy pile of Legos between his legs, before looking demurely up at John from underneath his long eyelashes.

“I gotta clean them? But… But Sammy was the one who put them in me,” he objected quietly. John nodded, but arched an eyebrow.

“Dean, you know the rules. If you were both playing with the same toys, you have to share the cleanup. Sam already did part of his job by taking them back out of you, so it's your job to clean off the mess that your hole made of them. When they're dry, Sam will finish up putting them back in the toy chest.”

“Aww, man!” Sam whined, and John suppressed an eye roll. The kid could make a mountain out of a molehill.

Ignoring his youngest, John continued, nudging Dean’s shoulder with the side of his arm. “You know they wouldn't have gotten so dirty if you didn't have such a slutty hole,” he gently reminded his eldest. Dean cast his eyes to the floor and nodded.

“Yes, Alpha,” he sniffled. “I know. I’m sorry, I can't help it.” his shoulders slumped and he hunched forward, starting to close his legs to make himself smaller. John didn't like to see his son look so dejected.

“C’mere, sweetheart,” he said, pulling Dean’s thin pubescent body into his arms and lifting him into the air as he rose to his feet. Dean startled and instinctually wrapped his legs around John’s waist, then threw his hands around his alpha daddy’s shoulders and buried his nose into the scent gland on the side of his neck. John held Dean steady with his wide palm cupping his naked rear and three fingers hooked inside his cunt to keep him from slipping down. With his free hand, John comfortingly rubbed Dean’s shaking back as the boy tearfully clung to him. “It's nothing to be ashamed of, Dean. A slutty hole is a wonderful thing for an omega to have. You might make more of a mess than any other omega I've ever seen,” he chuckled, “But that just makes you even more perfect. You're the best omega an Alpha could ask for.”

Dean just continued to sniffle and cling to him, the silky walls of his channel flinching and clenching around his fingers, until Sam got up and came over. The younger boy reached up and put his hand on one of Dean’s ankles hesitantly, and John felt Dean raise his head to look down at his little alpha brother.

“I like that your hole is so hungry, Dean,” Sam offered shyly. “I think it's really cool that it’s such a slutty one. My friend Janie at school has a big omega brother too, and his cunt isn't even half as slutty as yours. I bet she’d only be able to fit, like, one fourth as many Legos inside him as I fit in you. Maybe not even that many.”

Dean blinked down at his little brother and a tear slipped down his cheek. He inhaled a hiccuppy breath. John patted his back and tried to soothe him further by scissoring his fingers a little; he felt Dean’s hips squirm and twitch in response, smushing his spent omega cock and little balls between himself and his dad’s firm stomach.

“I can… I can help you clean off the Legos after dinner, Dean, since it's my fault you're so tired,” Sam finally offered, and Dean wiped his dripping nose on his wrist.

“Y’hear that, Dean? What do you say to your brother?”

“Thanks, Sammy,” Dean whispered. John smiled and stuffed another finger into his son’s overused omega hole to let him know that he was pleased, and then started towards the door with his boy still held in his arms.

“C’mon, Sammy, it's dinner time.” He paused until he heard Sam’s footsteps following him, then continued down the hallway, teasing Dean playfully by alternately curling each of the four fingers that were wedged inside his cunt. “Now, no complaining if the spaghetti's cold, boys; you know whose fault that is.”

“Yes, Dad,” Sam agreed, voice colored with what John could tell was a little-boy eye roll. 

“Yes, Alpha,” Dean whimpered into his neck, thighs shaking and hips trembling at his father’s playfully wiggling fingers, hands clutching at John’s back. 

John could feel the omega’s dripping hole starting to soak the front of his shirt where his boy’s core was pressed against him, but he didn't mind. Dean’d had a tough night; it wasn't every day he got stuffed so full that he couldn't even move. John would reward his son’s perseverance by having him sit on his knot during dinner so that his stretched little cunt wouldn't have to experience such a sudden transition back to emptiness after having been packed so very, very full.

Chapter 3: First Times

John could remember the first time that Sam asked him why Dean got touched all the time by strangers. The three of them were waiting in line for concessions at a movie theater, Sam and Dean both happily chattering to each other about their excitement, when a passing alpha asked John if he could take Dean out of the line to use him for a couple minutes. Since there was still plenty of time before the movie started and all they were doing was waiting for snacks, John thanked the man for asking – after all, he didn’t have to; he could have just snatched Dean away without a word – and agreed. Sam clutched John’s hand as he watched Dean get led, wide-eyed and suddenly quiet, away from them and over to an out-of-the-way patch of wall near a trash can. The alpha stranger bent Dean over the trash can and easily pulled open the gap in the crotch of his omega pants before stuffing two fingers into the omega’s nervously-clenched hole.

“Why do strangers get to touch Dean’s hole like that?” Sam asked his dad as the alpha started to pump his fingers in and out, making Dean whimper. John was sympathetic to his youngest son’s concern. Dean had only come into his slick half a year ago, and Sam hadn’t been around for most of the times that Dean had been used by strangers since then. He crouched down to Sam’s level so that he could look into his son’s eyes. 

“You remember how you're an alpha, and your brother’s an omega?” he asked. Sam nodded and squeezed his dad’s hand; at the same time, the alpha stranger twisted his own and stuffed another finger into Dean’s hole, eliciting a sweet cry from the omega. 

“Yeah, it means I can play with his special hole all the time. But now strangers do it, too. They never used to before.”

“Well, that’s because Dean used to be too young for that. When an omega gets to a certain age, its hole starts making slick like Dean’s does now. You know how I let you put stuff inside his cunt now, when before we could only touch the outside? That’s why. You see, Sammy, alphas and omegas each have special needs, and now that Dean’s not so young anymore, he has new grown-up omega needs that he didn’t have before. He’s making slick because his hole is really hungry and needs alphas to put things in it.”

“Like fingers?”

“Yes, like fingers, toys… anything an alpha wants to put inside. When Dean gets a little older, we’ll start feeding his omega hole cocks, too.”

“Wow. Dean needs that? ‘Cause his hole is so hungry?”

“That’s right, Sammy.”

Sam pondered his alpha dad’s words as he watched the stranger continue to finger his brother. Most of the other people in the movie theater were ignoring it to give the alpha some privacy, but a couple had stopped to watch Dean with interest and quietly appreciate what a slutty, pretty little omega he was.

“You said alphas have special needs, too,” Sam said uncertainly. “What do alphas need?”

“Well, when alphas go through puberty, we get something called a knot at the base of our penis. Omega holes are very hungry for knots because they're designed to make knots feel good.”

“Do you have a knot?”

John chuckled and nodded. “Yes, and you'll get one too someday. When you get your knot, that’ll mean you're old enough to go into something called a rut. But you never want to go into a rut, Sammy; alphas in rut are very scary. They can't think clearly or control their strength, and they might hurt people without meaning to. Especially omegas.”

Sam grew pale. “If I go into a rut, I might hurt Dean? Like, beat him up?”

John didn’t think his son was old enough to hear the sordid details about what alphas in rut sometimes did to omegas – or even betas and other alphas – so he didn’t expound any further. “Yes, Sammy. If you went into rut, you might beat him up really bad. Maybe even kill him.” 

Sam glanced back at Dean. The man was holding him down with one big hand, the omega’s chest pressed against the rim of the trash can while he tried to keep his head up out of the opening, hands gripping the far side of the rim. Another alpha had joined the first and they both had two fingers each in Dean’s cunt, making sloppy sounds as they moved inside of him. John could see Dean’s little hips jerking. He looked almost like he was trying to pull away and off of the intruding hands, but more than likely he was simply humping his little cock against the side of the trash can. Slick was being forced out of him in blurts with each pump of the alphas’ fingers and getting the legs of his pants all wet.

“I don't wanna hurt Dean,” Sam whispered, now staring at the floor.

“Of course you don’t, Sammy. No decent alpha wants to hurt anyone.” He reached out and lifted Sam’s face with a gentle finger under his quivering chin. “That's why alpha strangers get to touch Dean’s hole. You see, if us alphas get enough omega slick, it keeps us from going into rut. A long time ago, omegas belonged solely to their Alpha, and it was illegal to touch the hole of another alpha’s omega without permission. But since omegas are so special and rare, not every alpha had access to omega slick, and so alphas were going into rut all the time and attacking people.”

“That's awful!” Sam gasped, and John nodded in agreement.

“It was. So, to keep everyone safe, the government passed a new set of laws that made omega holes public property. So even though I own the rest of Dean’s body – just like you’ll own it someday – the government owns his omega hole, and that means that now that it's making slick, any alpha can use it however they want. Same goes for every other omega. This way, we alphas get as much omega slick as we need to, and almost no alphas ever go into rut anymore.”

“Wow.” Sam looked back over to his brother, but this time, he looked amazed. “We’re really lucky, then, right? That Dean’s an omega? There are like twenty other kids in my class this year, and I’m the only one with a omega brother.”

John smiled. “We sure are lucky, Sammy. But not just because Dean’s an omega; because he’s our omega. My son, and your big brother. The sweetest omega I’ve ever tasted, and he’s all ours.” At that moment, Dean wandered back over to them and tried to duck back under the partition to the concession line, stumbling over his feet on shaky legs and almost faceplanting onto the sticky floor. John laughed and caught his fucked-out son, pulling him in for a hug and then winking at Sam from over Dean’s shoulder. “Well, all of him except for his hole.”

Dean looked dazed when John pulled back, glassy-eyed and flush-faced. Sam ducked around behind him and pulled open the gap in his soaked pants to examine the omega’s used cunt with awe.

“Wow, Dean, you made so much slick! You probably saved a lot of people today!”

“I’m sorry,” Dean babbled and shuddered while Sam stuck his little fingers up into his fluttery channel to feel how much the two strangers had stretched him. “I’m sorry, I don’t… I don’t know. Why I make so much.”

“It’s because your hole is really hungry, Dean,” Sam informed his brother authoritatively, like he was teaching Dean something that he himself had known for a long time. “It’s really really hungry, and it needs alphas to fill it up.” He twisted his fingers to hammer the lesson home.

—

Of course, it had been hard for John, too, the first time a stranger had used Dean after his omega son started making slick. He remembered the incident well. Despite having had about a decade to brace himself, nothing could have prepared him to let a strange man take his precious son out of his arms, spread him out on a pool table, and fuck his tiny pink cunt with two thick fingers. But ultimately, John knew that it was a necessary good; both for public safety, and for his newly slick omega. Using Dean's hole for even just a few minutes would help the alpha continue to keep his rut at bay, and as for Dean? 

Well, at first, John’s heart broke for his boy; Dean had started crying as soon as the stranger had pulled him away from his Alpha. Even after being fingerfucked on the pool table for several minutes, tears were still pouring down his cheeks as he cried out for his daddy to take him back. John worried that Dean was hurting, or that he wasn't liking it the way a healthy omega should; but then, after a few more minutes passed and John was thinking more clearly, he saw that Dean’s little cock was hard and that his sweet hole was dripping more slick onto the pool table than any omega that John had ever seen. John allowed himself to relax, then, seeing that Dean was enjoying himself; that his tears must be from the overwhelming newness of the experience and not from lack of desire or enjoyment.

“You feelin’ okay, sweetheart?” John asked his son after the other alpha finished and finally allowed Dean to stumble back over to him. “That was your first time getting used by someone other than me or your brother. You did a good job helping that alpha out.”

“I have t’do that again?” Dean asked shakily, wiping his eyes.

“Yes, Dean. For any alpha that wants you, and betas if I let them.” Dean’s expression crumpled and his eyes flooded with tears again, and John pulled him into a hug. “Hey, kiddo, why’re you acting so upset? You liked it.”

Dean looked up at his alpha dad with a shocked and disturbed expression. “I did?”

John chuckled at his slick-addled omega's confusion. “Of course you did, silly. See this?” He pointed down at Dean’s penis, which still sported a stiffy. “That means you liked it. And see that?” He pointed over to the pool table and the dark patch where Dean’s slick had puddled. “That means you wanted it. Your little omega hole wouldn't have made that much slick if it didn't want it so much.”

“Oh,” Dean said quietly, hunching over and trying to hide his little hard-on with his hands. “I d-didn’t know that.”

“It's nothing to be ashamed of, sweetheart. You're an omega, it's what you were made for.” He stroked his son’s sweat-damp blond hair out of his face. “I was worried when he first took you, since you seemed so upset. You were crying so much, I thought something was wrong. But I felt so much better after you started leaking slick and I saw how much you wanted it. You were perfect. You did good, Dean.” He kissed the top of Dean’s head and pulled his son up into his arms. “My sweet omega. You know, you might have the sluttiest omega hole I’ve ever seen?”

“No,” Dean whispered, little fingers clutching at John’s back and nuzzling his nose into his father’s neck, scenting him for comfort. “Is that b-bad?”

“It’s not bad at all. It’s wonderful.” He slipped two of his fingers into Dean’s used cunt and looked around the pool hall to see if he could find another alpha or two to show his son just how wonderful having a slutty hole could be.

—

John still usually read to his kids at night while they fell asleep, an activity that he’d picked up from Mary after her death. He took turns lying with each of the boys; in Sam’s bed one night, and then in Dean’s the next.

On the nights when he lied down with Dean, his eldest son would lean against his side and follow along to the words as he read. Most omegas couldn’t read past a third grade level because their capacity to be educated dropped sharply after their slick came in – as the saying went, "too much slick on the brain for knowledge to stick to it" – but Dean seemed to be brighter than a typical omega. It was hard to tell where he was at compared to alpha or beta kids his age since he didn't get graded at school (there was no need to grade omegas since they couldn't get diplomas), but he was literate enough to have read a handful of Mary's old favorite books that had survived the fire. John wasn't sure how well he understood them, but regardless, it always made something flutter in his chest to see his omega son, who so resembled his mother, curled up with one of her favorite paperbacks.

So John would read aloud and Dean would follow along, breath ghosting over the little hairs on the back of John's arm. When the boy finally grew too tired, he’d close his eyes and let himself relax into the firm warmth of John’s side, letting his dad's deep voice rumble over him until his muscles went lax and his breath evened out.

Sometimes when Dean curled against him like that, all quiet and soft and looking impossibly virginal with sleep, it truly seemed like the only thing Dean wanted was for his dad to chastely wrap him in his arms and hold him like you’d hold any alpha or beta kid. But when John lowered his hand to Dean’s cunt and felt the warm hole slickly eat up his fingers as Dean whimpered – and tried to press his legs together against the intrusion before blinking back awake, realizing it was his father, and bashfully spreading his knees to let his Alpha do whatever he wanted – the illusion was shattered. Dean was an omega, and what he really wanted was for John to fill his hole.

Chapter 4: Dean's Punishment (Part 1): Doing Chores

On Saturday, Sam and Dean both got in trouble for not doing their weekend chores. Despite John reminding them several times throughout the day, the kids had gotten distracted; first with climbing the tree in the backyard, then with taking turns playing Mario on the Gameboy, then with playing wiffle ball in the front yard with a few of the neighbor boys. The wiffle ball game had shortly led to the neighbor boys holding Dean down while the two alpha ones took turns fucking him with the plastic bat. Sam wasn't allowed to leave Dean alone while he was in use – it wasn't against the law or anything, but a family rule that John had implemented because he felt that a good alpha always kept their omega in sight while they were being used by anyone other than family – and by the time the group of boys were finished playing with the omega’s hole, Sam and Dean were late for dinner and most of the chores hadn’t even been started.

When the boys filed into the kitchen – Dean's inner thighs muddy with dirt and slick – they met John’s stern expression with hanging heads and stood in front of him to accept their reprimands.

Sam, who hadn't so much as started a single one of his chores, was grounded for a week from computer games, playing with friends, and dessert. Dean, on the other hand, had finished half of his – and probably could have done the rest if he hadn’t been cajoled into playing wiffle ball – so John was a little lighter on him. Dean would just have to spend Sunday in his punishment bondage. So, on Sunday morning, after giving Dean a big nutritional shake for breakfast and an enema so that he wouldn’t have to go later, John took Dean back to the boys’ bedroom and retrieved his punishment bondage from the closet.

“Why can't I just get grounded like Sammy?” Dean asked glumly while he watched his father spread out the bondage gear on his bed, sorting through the fittings and attachments and untangling the straps.

“Because omegas need special kinds of punishments, Dean, you know that. You can't punish an omega the same way you punish an alpha or a beta. Omegas have different needs.”

John helped Dean powder his skin and then pull on the black latex bodysuit. The arm sleeves ended with mitts, removing the use of the boy’s hands and fingers, though it didn't matter much since his arms would soon be immobilized anyway. John carefully smoothed the bodysuit onto his son, running his palms up his limbs and back and tummy to make sure that it was fitting well with no wrinkles. Then, John helped Dean step into his special harness and pulled it up over his legs. He made sure that the straps were tight and then had Dean lie down on the bed. The hood was set aside for the time being; he always put the hood on Dean last.

Dean crossed his arms comfortably over his chest, palms flat against it, like he knew he was supposed to (though he didn't look happy about it). To let him know that he was being a good boy, John smiled at him and leaned down to press a kiss onto the tip of his freckled nose, making him giggle a little in surprise, before wrapping the wide strap over the boy's arms and buckling it in place. Next, he used the appropriate clasps to affix Dean’s ankles to the underside of his thighs – Sam always thought his brother looked funny in this position, like a frog, but John found it very cute – and then the legs were widely spread, knees pushed up to the sides of his ribs so that he was bent in half, and a row of straps and buckles were used to bind his thighs tightly into place. Finally, a large latex flap wrapped around his entire torso to cover his arms and legs and was buckled in the back, tightly binding him to prevent any movement and making him into a limbless, neat little package.

With the suit and wrapping all in place, the only parts of Dean’s body that were visible were his nervous face and his pink cunt. The latex suit covered both his asshole and his little cock and balls – pulling the dangly bits up and out of the way and squishing them tightly flat to prevent an erection – but it had a well-crafted opening that kept his cunt accessible, as was legally required. The special harness that John had put into place around Dean’s hips fit over the bodysuit almost like underwear, but like the bodysuit, it had an opening that perfectly framed his twitching omega hole. It was black as well, except for silver snaps that circled the opening. The harness was a vital part of the outfit, but wouldn't be used until later in the day.

“Alright, kiddo. How does everything feel? Any wrinkles? Anything too tight?”

Dean was quiet for a moment as he thought, then shook his head. "No, Alpha. Feels okay."

“That's good. Now, try to move for me.”

Dean bit his lip and made a little frown of concentration. John knew that he was trying to pull his legs or arms away from his torso – perhaps arch his back or curl inward – but John didn't see any movement other than his pink hole clenching. After a few seconds of effort, Dean relaxed his body and let out a breath, his cunt flaring sweetly.

“How long do I have to be like this, Alpha?” his son asked him, voice trembling and green eyes shining with unshed tears. John knew that Dean didn't like his punishment bondage; that was why it was used as punishment, after all. Despite not liking to see his son so upset, it couldn't be helped. The boy knew the consequences of shirking his duties.

John bent over and kissed his omega son’s forehead. “Just for six hours, sweetheart. From now until four o'clock, then I'll take you out and give you a bath before dinner. Is there anything else you want to say before the hood goes on?”

With a wobbling lower lip, Dean shook his head. “I guess not.”

“Alright, good boy. Open up for me.”

Making sure not to catch or pull at any of Dean’s dark honey-colored hair, John pulled the latex hood down over his face and fitted the silicone-padded metal ring of the built-in gag into the omega’s mouth. Dean’s teeth easily fit into the bite imprints in the silicone padding that had formed during past uses. With his face and hair obscured after the hood was buckled in the back, Dean no longer looked like a person. He was just a bundle of latex with two wet holes that looked pinker and sweeter than ever against the black background.

“Tongue down, Dean,” John instructed him gently, and obediently Dean flattened his tongue, touching it to his lower teeth, so that John could insert the fitted, penis-shaped plug through the hole of the ring gag. It was short and fairly small – not long enough to make the omega choke or gag, and not big enough to make swallowing any more difficult – but it served its purpose by preventing any noise from exiting his mouth. It also gave him something to suck on for comfort, if he needed to. The plug didn't need to be strapped down; the soft silicone was perfectly fitted to wedge through the opening of the gag, so only the pressure of the metal ring was needed to hold it in place. This was safer, since if there was an emergency, John would just need to reach down and pull the plug out instead of wasting precious seconds trying to fiddle with straps and buckles.

“Is Dean all done?” Sam asked, skipping into the room and jumping up to bounce on his own bed.

“Yep, he's all wrapped up."

"I still don't get why he only has to get punished for a day when I'm grounded all week," Sam whined as he jumped in circles. John rolled his eyes. No matter what John did, Sam always thought that the scales were weighted in his brother's favor. John could have made Dean do his punishment bondage every day for a week, and Sam probably would have pouted that Dean still got to eat dessert while Sam didn't.

"I'm not gonna do this with you again, Sam. You know why. You get different punishments because you're different kinds of boys. Now, do you remember the rules for when Dean’s in his punishment bondage?”

Sam sighed and then nodded and kept bouncing as he rattled them off, holding up a finger for each one.

“One: no covering the nose holes. That's the most important one,” he started. “Two: no putting anything on top of him or hitting him or throwing anything at him, not even if it’s really small or soft and wouldn't even hurt. Three: no teasing him, and no touching him except for his hole.” With one final bounce, Sam hopped off the bed and landed on the ground. “Four: no talking to him except to check if he's okay.”

“That's right. And how do you check if he's okay?”

“I put my fingers in his hole and ask, and he squeezes once for yes. If he doesn't squeeze at all it means no and I take the plug out of his mouth and go and get you right away.”

“Show me.”

Sam jumped over to Dean’s bed and leaned down over his immobilized brother. “You okay, Dean?” he asked, stuffing three fingers into Dean’s exposed cunt. John watched the channel clench around Sam’s fingers after a moment. “He's okay!”

John laughed. “That’s good, Sammy. Now, what if he wasn't okay but you couldn’t find me?”

“Then I get another grown-up or I call 911,” Sam recited, wiping his fingers off on his shirt.

Satisfied, John nodded and smiled. “Alright, sport, good job.” He reached down and ruffled his alpha son’s hair. “Now, I want you to go and do the chores you skipped out on yesterday. I’m gonna do some cleaning, and I’ll look after your brother. Then we’ll eat lunch.”

Still a little pouty, Sam stomped off to do his chores. Left alone in the room, John took a moment to just stare at the shiny black bundle that rested on top of Dean's comforter. The only visible movement was the slight tightening and then relaxing of the latex as the body inside it breathed... and of course, the shudders and clenches of the exposed pink omega hole, which was the one part of Dean's body that his son could never seem to keep still, no matter how hard he tried.

John didn't like punishing Dean like this, especially knowing how upset this punishment made his boy, but he couldn't pretend that there weren't aspects he enjoyed. Knowing that Dean was totally helpless like this – reliant on John to watch over him and take care of him and make sure nothing happened to him – made the Alpha's chest swell with affection and protectiveness. Dean looked so small, right now, a tiny bundle in the middle of his twin-sized bed. It reminded him so much of when Dean was an infant and John first understood that wonderful weight of responsibility that parents feel, knowing that they were the only thing in the world that their baby could rely on.

After a little while, John could tell that his stillness and silence had started to make Dean nervous by the way his little cunt's entrance tightened; the boy was probably wondering if John had exited the room with Sam without him noticing, leaving him alone. Heaving a big sigh and gearing himself up to start his own chores – he always missed Mary, but he missed her more than usual on the that days he did housework – John stepped up to the bed and easily lifted Dean’s bound and immobilized body into his arms. After making sure that the way he was holding Dean was comfortable, John carried him out of the bedroom and down the stairs into the living room, where he looked around to find a good place to put him.

Ultimately, John settled on the far corner of the living room near the floor lamp. He dragged the medium-sized dog bed that he’d bought for this sort of thing to the spot he'd chosen and then gently settled Dean onto it; Dean didn't get furniture privileges while he was being punished, but John didn't want the boy to lie directly on the cold wooden floor. Plenty of Alphas didn't care, or just put down a towel or padded mat, but John couldn't bear to do that to Dean. He felt that the bondage itself was already punishment enough. Maybe he was too kindhearted, but he'd rather make his son be comfortable than try to fit some picture-perfect standard of Alpha austerity.

For the next couple of hours, John set about cleaning the living room before moving on to the downstairs and upstairs bathrooms. He checked on Dean every twenty minutes or so; usually just visually (the anxious way Dean’s hole fluttered, clenching open and closed like a gasping mouth, was enough evidence that he was conscious and breathing), but he made sure to ask verbally every hour and feel his fingers squeezed in response. Without being able to look at the height of the sun or a clock and nothing to listen to other than the distant sounds of John going about his day, Dean probably felt like every minute lasted ten.

The part of this punishment that Dean hated the most was feeling discarded; John was very aware of that. Being put on the ground out of the way in the corner of a room or under a table, and then barely touched or talked to for hours... Just that alone was awful: Dean hated being ignored. But add to it being unable to move, speak, or see – and very conscious of the fact that, thanks to the bondage, he resembled little more than a large fleshlight – and Dean’s mind swirled with insecurity, fearing that he'd be forgotten about and left behind. John always wanted to break rule number four and speak aloud to Dean to soothe the boy’s anxiety, or perhaps put on his favorite music to keep him entertained, but he never did. This was supposed to be a punishment, after all.

(With his heart aching so terribly at his omega son’s unhappiness, John wondered who was truly suffering more: Dean, or him?)

Once he'd finished his own housework, John put the dog bed underneath the kitchen table and lay Dean on it while he set about making lunch for Sam and himself. By that point, Sam had finished his chores as well and was playing in the yard, so John called him back in when the sandwiches were ready to eat. Lunch always felt a little off when Dean wasn't sitting at the table with them and joining the conversation, but John listened to his alpha son chatter with a smile, adding his own comments when Sam paused long enough for him to get a word in.

John knew that, lying underneath the table like a forgotten toy, Dean was listening to their muffled voices and the clatter of plates and cups on the tabletop, feeling left-out and lonely. Taking pity on his son, John stretched out his leg until he could feel the latex-covered body with his toes, and then rested the flat of his foot on Dean’s exposed hole; just a soothing touch to let Dean know that he hadn't been forgotten. John could feel the omega’s little cunt twitch with shock at the touch, but after a moment it began to mouth sweetly at him, getting a little slick with gratitude. John smiled. He was too tenderhearted for his own good. He left his foot there for the rest of his meal, and the sweet pink hole never let up the attention it gave him in return.

When they were done with their food, John told Sam to get cleaned up while he finally pulled Dean up onto his lap and removed the plug from his mouth so that he could help him drink some water.

“Do you need to pee?” John asked, fingers in the omega’s hole, after he’d carefully helped Dean drink two glasses of water. Dean squeezed his fingers, so after replacing the plug in his gag, John carried him into the bathroom and used a finger to pull the omega’s little cock out from under the latex. He held Dean over the toilet and told him when it was okay to let go, and then when he was done, made sure to return his penis and soft little balls back to where they’d been; tucked away under the bodysuit, pressed flat.

“Alright, Sam!” John called across the house after setting Dean down on the floor by the front door so that he could have his arms free to grab the reusable shopping bags and Dean’s carrier from the hall closet. “Get your shoes on, it's time to go grocery shopping!”

Dean’s neglected hole quivered at the words. He knew what that meant.

Chapter 5: Dean's Punishment (Part 2): Grocery Shopping

Dean had outgrown the need for a regular booster seat years ago – his old one was Sam’s now, though the young alpha would be too big for it soon, too – but there was an omega car seat that John kept in the garage for times like this when he had to go for a drive with Dean while he was in bondage. He’d already buckled the omega seat into place that morning while the kids were eating breakfast, so it was easy to situate Dean’s bound body into it while Sam put the grocery bags and Dean’s omega carrier into the trunk.

The omega car seat resembled a large children’s booster seat, with a five-point harness to keep Dean upright and comfortably flush against the padded back. It also had a built-in dildo to hold Dean in place and keep him from sliding around or slipping down while he didn't have any use of his arms or legs. John carefully slid Dean’s omega hole down over the dildo before buckling him into the harness.

“You good, Dean?” John asked. The dildo was slender enough that John could easily slide a finger into Dean’s cunt alongside it, and he felt Dean squeeze around both protrusions in assent.

Though the back of the car seat was padded, the seat itself was plastic (other than the attached dildo, which was silicone). John always felt a little bad about Dean having to sit on something so hard, but it was for the best; with the dildo in his cunt, the young omega was already getting slick, and a fabric-padded seat would be a bitch to clean. Nevertheless, John always tried to minimize the driving time if the seat had to be used.

The fifteen-minute drive to the grocery store was filled with Sam talking to his dad about all the bugs he'd found while he was playing outside before lunch. After parking, John unbuckled and lifted Dean from his car seat while Sam went to get the carrier from the trunk and put it on the front bench for John’s easy access. A practiced affair, John deftly lowered and tucked Dean’s immobilized body through the open zippered top.

Omega carriers were a necessary tool for any Alpha that owned an omega. They were made in various sizes and designs exactly for this purpose: so that an Alpha could go about his day without disturbance when his omega was immobilized – whether as punishment, routine, or just because its Alpha wanted to do so – and could not be safely left alone.

Carriers for adult omegas had wheels and were usually similar in appearance to either an oversized infant carriage or a suitcase; it all depended on how much the Alpha was willing to spend and what utility they wanted it to serve. Suitcase-type carriers were more convenient and usually less expensive, but also made it both more strenuous to move and more difficult to access the omega’s hole. Luckily, Dean was still young and small enough – and John big and strong enough – to use a smaller-sized, unwheeled omega carrier. It resembled a fabric cat carrier with opaque, black mesh panels on all sides for breathability and padding on the bottom to protect the omega from the hard floor when the carrier got set down. It had short fabric handles on the top and all four sides so that it could be easily grabbed for lifting and moving small distances. For carrying it over long distances, however, there was a durable, padded shoulder strap. 

On the tail end of the carrier was an opening – as was legal standard for omega carriers – circled with silver snaps on the carrier’s inner side. The special harness that John had strapped Dean into that morning had come with the omega carrier and they were meant to be used together. After Dean’s body was comfortably situated on the padded bottom, John slid him down until his rear was flush with the tail end of the carrier and lined up the hole in his harness with the hole in the fabric. He then used the matching snaps on the carrier wall and the harness to snap the omega into place. When finished, the boy’s cunt was perfectly framed by the carrier’s opening and exposed to the public. Attached to the carrier like that, Dean became a part of it; his pink hole like a built-in pocket. John laughed a little to himself, imagining using it to store the spare change and pack of gum that he had in his jeans.

With his omega son in place, John zipped up the carrier and heaved it up, slinging the long shoulder strap over his head to wear it cross-body. Dean was heavier than he used to be, but John was big and had alpha strength, so he was convinced that he'd be able to tote Dean in the shoulder carrier for a while yet; at least until the boy outgrew it. When he'd first bought the carrier, Dean had been much smaller, and there had been a lot of extra space. The snaps that attached to his harness had been as much necessary for keeping him from sliding all around inside the carrier as for keeping his cunt lined up with the access hole. Now that Dean was older, though, he almost filled out the carrier entirely. Once he'd grown another inch or two John would certainly have to look into buying a new one, but for now, John liked feeling the solid, sweet warmth of Dean’s immobilized body bump against him as he walked, and would do it for as long as he could (just the thought of giving it up made his eyes misty; sometimes, he wished his boy would never grow up).

With the omega carrier slung over his shoulder and the reusable grocery bags over Sam’s, John slid a few fingers into Dean’s hole to ask, “You okay, Dean?” before starting across the parking lot and into the grocery store after Dean squeezed ‘Yes’. Sam followed along at his side, three speedy little steps to every one of John’s long strides. Dean’s carrier was swinging a bit backward and forward with John’s gait, and Sam held a finger out, trying to aim for Dean’s twitching cunt with every backswing. He giggled every time he made a bull's-eye and the glistening pink hole briefly swallowed his finger before sliding off again with the forswing. 

When they got inside, Sam tugged on John’s sleeve. “Can I carry Dean?” he asked, a comical request given that Dean was nearly a foot taller than him and twenty pounds heavier.

“You're too small to hold his carrier, kiddo,” John told him. “But if you want, you can get one of the little shopping carts and push him around in it.”

Delighted at his assigned responsibility, Sam rushed to get one of the smaller, kid-sized shopping carts that the grocery store provided and pulled it back over to his dad while John was tugging a regular-sized cart out of the line. The little shopping cart was the perfect size, and the omega carrier fit neatly when John lowered it into the basket. The tail end pressed up against the front of the cart and Dean’s exposed cunt was framed perfectly by a large opening in the center of the wicker, leaving plenty of space for access.

As Sam excitedly tested his strength, pushing the cart back and forth in little bursts with his feet planted, John soaked in the sight before him. The opaque omega carrier could easily be confused with a duffel bag or backpack of some kind. Unless someone stood facing the front of the cart, anyone who saw Sam might assume that the kid was pushing around his school books or soccer gear. The only hint that the bag held something special was the wet flash of pink winking at the far end. And even then – with his voice stolen by the gag and everything but his pretty, pink omega hole hidden in the carrier – it would be quite easy for a stranger to disregard the contents of the black bag and see Dean only as a disembodied cunt. 

Truthfully, that was what John loved the most about using the carrier. While using it, passersby saw Dean as barely more than a drippy cocksleeve, if that. Not a human being but merely a slick, pink hole. It was so easy for them to imagine that the isolated cunt was all there was; just a hole that led to nowhere, attached to nothing. But John knew that the hole was attached to something wonderful: an omega with the prettiest face and sweetest voice and most loving disposition. And he knew what expressions that face would make, what that voice would sound like, and how those loving arms would desperately reach for his comfort if the omega’s body was unbound. He knew, but the passersby didn't. It made the knowledge feel special, somehow.

They started their shopping in the produce section, John choosing fruits and vegetables while Sam happily trailed behind him. A few minutes into their errand, a mother with two young beta children began to pass them going in the other direction. The oldest of her kids – a boy a bit younger than Sam – was also pushing a kid-sized cart with a bag of oranges in it, and paused to look at the contents of Sam’s.

“Is there a real omega in there?” he asked the young alpha, who nodded happily.

“Yeah, this is my big brother’s carrier. He's a real omega. See, that's his cunt right there.” He pointed out Dean’s exposed hole to his new friend. John could tell that Dean knew he was being looked at by the way the glistening pink channel shyly clenched.

“Why’s it in a bag?” the beta boy’s younger sister asked, sticking her knuckles in her mouth and sucking on them.

“That bag’s his omega carrier. He has to be in there right now ‘cause he was bad and didn't finish his chores. I got in trouble, too. I’m grounded for a whole week, but he's only being punished for a day.”

The beta mother cast an apologetic look at John for the way her kids were holding him up, but John smiled and brushed it off. He wasn't in any rush and didn't mind Dean being an impromptu educational tool; it was always good for beta kids to get some omega exposure.

“Can I touch it? The omega hole?” the beta boy asked. 

“Me too!” his little sister begged, tugging her brother’s arm.

If the kids were alphas then they wouldn't have to ask, but betas were legally required to ask permission from an omega’s Alpha before using it. It was a difficult law to enforce, and it was rare that an Alpha pursued charges since the majority of such cases – even if they were won – ended with barely more than a slap on the wrist and a government fine, but most betas followed it anyway. 

“Sure!” Sam agreed enthusiastically, and John was about to step in but luckily the mother interfered by deftly grabbing her kids’ shoulders and pulling them away from the quivering hole that they'd been reaching for.

“You have to ask its Alpha,” their mother told them sternly, turning them both around to face John. “Not just any old alpha will do; it has to be its owner.” She cast John another apologetic look. “I’m so sorry, this is their first time asking to use an omega.”

That wasn't surprising to John; the children were both so young, with a beta mother and probably a beta father, and likely too shy to go up to the average adult Alpha and ask to touch his omega. Sam, however, was close to the children’s age and friendly; on top of that, the way that Dean’s hidden body seemed, to them, completely removed from his pink cunt probably made the idea of touching it less intimidating.

Though John didn't always allow betas to touch his omega son, these kids looked so curious and excited that he knew he'd relent. He smiled indulgently at the woman and waved his hand. “That's alright, they're still young. My alpha boy grew up with an omega in the house and clearly he forgets the rules sometimes, too.” He knelt down to get at the kids’ eye-level and speak to them directly. “So, whatdya wanna ask me?”

The youngest one was too shy to talk to a strange grown-up and just looked up at John through her lashes. Her older brother stuffed his hands into his pockets and bit his lip, looking back at his mom before meeting John’s eyes. “Can we please touch your omega's hole, sir?”

John smiled and nodded. “Sure you can. But only for a little bit, okay? We've got to keep doing our shopping.”

While John chatted politely with the mother as her kids investigated their first omega hole, Sam rambled excitedly to the other children, telling them all about it. “Most people call it a hole or a cunt, but you can also call it lots of other things. Like cocksleeve, fucktoy, fuckhole, cumdump…” he counted out the words on his fingers. “Those are all the ones I can remember right now. You can call it anything, really. And you can put anything inside it! This hole is a really slutty one, see?” He stuffed his fingers into the shy cunt, eager to demonstrate how wonderfully slutty his big brother’s omega hole was to his dazzled audience. “It's dripping just from me putting my fingers in. That's omega slick; slick is really important for alphas. It's the best!”

The little girl reached out to stick her fingers into the flexing channel, then pulled her hand back quickly with a scrunched-up face. Her fingertips were slippery with slick, a glossy string stretching between them and the pink hole.

“It's slimy,” she said. She put her fingers under her nose and sniffed, then stuck out her tongue. “Yuck! Smells gwoss!”

Sam looked confused and a little disheartened, while the beta boy curiously dipped his own fingers into the omega hole – which was cringing with dejection and embarrassment – to see what his sister was on about.

“Really?” Sam said nervously. “I think it smells really good. Maybe it only smells good to alphas?”

“It's icky!” the young girl insisted adamantly. Then, forgetting – or perhaps not understanding – that the defenseless little cunt was attached to a boy who could hear her perfectly well through the fabric of the carrier, she swung her little arm forward and smacked the pink hole with a flat palm to communicate her distaste to it. The poor cunt’s glistening walls shuddered and flinched, spasming, unable to pull away. The girl giggled at that and smacked it again and again, harder and harder, spanking it red. “Yucky yucky, icky icky, slutty slutty hole!”

Sam was frozen, watching the childish assault with open dismay, but the mother quickly darted over to grab her daughter's wrist before the little beta girl could lay another hard smack onto the battered hole.

“Rachel! That's not very nice!” her mother scolded her. “That's not how I taught you to treat other people’s things!”

The little girl pouted as her mother pulled her away. “Sowwy.” The woman, too mortified to do more than utter a brief apology, quickly ushered her children off towards the cash registers (much to the annoyance of her son, who was upset that his little sister had gotten to touch the omega hole more than he had). 

Visibly shaken, Sam stroked the poor cunt's swollen, quivering entrance comfortingly. “Your hole isn’t gross, Dean,” he assured his brother, then cautiously inserted a few fingers. “You okay?” After a long moment of hesitation, the slick walls of the channel weakly squeezed around his fingers.

John joined his youngest son and thumbed at Dean’s slick opening in soothing reassurance. “I'm sorry about that, Deano, I thought they'd be more well-behaved. No more betas today, I promise.” 

He felt the dejected hole mouth at his palm, begging wordlessly for reassurance. John relented and pumped his fingers in and out a few times, just to give his boy some of the attention that he was craving, and then stroked his thumb along the rim once more before giving the abused cunt a gentle, fatherly pat. 

“Alright, boys. Now, let's get back to normal. Remember, Dean’s still being punished; no more talking to him unless it's to check in on him. That's rule number four.”

Sam’s lower lip trembled and he furiously scrubbed at his eyes with the back of his sleeve.

“That little girl was wrong, Dad. Dean’s hole isn't gross or icky at all.”

“No, it isn't,” John agreed with his little alpha son, before pushing him around the tiny cart back to his station at the handles. “Dean’s hole is wonderful.”

They worked their way through the produce aisles without another distraction. John could hear Sam speaking aloud to himself; listing the fruits that they passed, declaring his favorites, and making up recipes for the desserts he'd want after he was finished being grounded. His tone was gentle and reassuring, and John knew that he was trying to comfort Dean; bending rule number four of Dean’s punishment bondage by pretending to talk to himself instead. John decided to let it slide. 

Eventually, after working their way through most of the grocery list, they did get approached by someone new. Surprisingly, it was another adult alpha. John didn’t usually run into very many other alphas when he went grocery shopping; mostly betas, and occasionally some omegas running errands for their Alphas. Typically, if he did see an alpha, he was a child who'd been brought along with a beta parent or a teenager there grabbing snacks with friends.

The new alpha was polite; he greeted John and then even said hi to Sam before gesturing towards the bagged cunt, which was still a little reddened from the earlier spanking.

“That's a good omega hole, there," the alpha complimented. "I smelled it almost clear across the store. Mind if I use it for a little while?”

The alpha didn't need to ask, of course; any alpha could lawfully use Dean’s hole whenever he liked. However, common courtesy and social etiquette meant that most alphas – at least the decent ones – did ask the omega’s owner if it was alright first. Especially if it seemed like using the omega might interfere with its Alpha’s schedule. Of course, the alpha could take what he wanted even if the omega’s Alpha said no, but it would be seen as incredibly rude. John rarely declined an alpha's request anyway – only ever doing so if he truly did have someplace to be and didn't have time to wait around for Dean to stop being used – but of the handful of times that he had, only twice had the man opted to use Dean anyway.

“Sure,” John said easily, beckoning Sam to offer the timid hole to the stranger. “Just don't tie him, if you don't mind. We’re almost ready to check out.”

“Of course,” the man agreed.

John turned to his youngest. “Sam, stay here with your brother, and when this nice man is done using him, bring him over to me. I’ll be in the frozen food section.”

Maybe fifteen minutes later, as John was choosing a flavor of ice cream to treat Dean with that evening, he heard the patter of small feet approaching quickly and turned around to see Sam, pale-faced and upset, careening towards him with the shopping cart. It was empty except for a bag of chips; Dean's omega carrier was noticeably missing.

“Sammy,” John started lowly, frowning when the boy skidded to a stop in front of him. “Where's your brother?”

“I'm sorry!” the young alpha exclaimed. “I stayed with him until the other alpha finished, just like you told me to! But then I was pushing him over here and I remembered that I wanted Fritos, but he was getting real heavy to push so I didn't want to take him all the way back to the chips with me. I only left him for like ten seconds! Or maybe a minute! But when I went back, the carrier was gone!”

John felt a rush of alpha fury, but quickly tamped it down. It wouldn't help anything to yell at Sam. He rubbed at his temples and grounded himself. While anyone could have noticed the unattended omega carrier and walked out of the store with it, that was unlikely; the theft of omegas was extremely uncommon, and the town that they lived in just didn't get that kind of crime. It was more likely that some greedy beta had seen a misplaced omega and decided to carry it somewhere secluded to get a taste without asking its Alpha for permission.

Closing his eyes, John tilted his head back and scented the air. It only took a few seconds for John to catch a whiff of Dean’s slick-scent, and another second to identify the direction it was coming from. Leaving his shopping cart behind, John determinedly followed the trail, making his way through the aisles and ultimately towards the back of the grocery store, Sam running after him.

He quickly spotted the source of Dean’s scent: three teenage boys – betas just as John had predicted, but more of them than he'd expected – huddled together at the end of the soft drink aisle. They were conspiring with each other in hushed voices that John couldn't make out over the rushing in his ears, whatever they were messing with obscured from his view.

“HEY!” John shouted, alpha anger making his voice growl, and the teenagers all jumped with fright. Before John could so much as take another step forward, all three of the boys dispersed and fled, leaving their pilfered plaything behind. Sam ran towards it as fast as he could, but even at his sprint he didn't get there before John did. 

John took in the whole scene in a fraction of a second. The teenagers had cleared off a section of one of the metal shelves that was about chest-height and Dean's omega carrier was sat there, almost blending in with the cases of soda around it. The tail end of the carrier was hanging a few inches off of the edge of the shelf, Dean's exposed omega hole throbbing and twitching at the sudden absence of exploring hands. The rim of the poor cunt was swollen and stretched, a thick string of slick drooling from the tender opening. It stretched several inches before breaking, the heavy drip plopping down to the tiled floor where a small puddle had already formed. Dean wouldn’t have made so much slick unless he'd been fucked by something… and yes, there, stacked around the omega carrier on the shelf, was a small pile of foodstuff. There was a skinny glass bottle of hot sauce, a tall jar of black olives, a sausage-shaped tube of chilled raw cookie dough, and a can of tomato soup. Every single one of them was visibly wet with Dean's slick.

Those beta boys hadn’t had the right. John breathed heavily, another growl rumbling deep in his chest. The only thing that held him back from chasing after those teenagers to show them what happened to stupid kids who touched what was his, was the evidence that at least Dean had liked it. Sometimes, John had to remind himself that his omega son’s hole would get slick for anyone and anything, not just alphas.

John immediately verified that nothing was blocking up the carrier's breatheable mesh. Then, wanting to check in on Dean, he tried to stick his fingers into the dripping cunt but they met resistance. The teenagers had left something inside of it.

It was clear, at least, that Dean was conscious; the walls of his channel were undulating around the intrusion that John had found, fruitlessly trying to expel it. Slick was oozing and welling up around the foreign object as though the little cunt thought it could be flooded out, like the body pushing out a splinter.

“It’s alright, sweetheart, I'm here. I'm gonna get it out.” He managed to wrap his fingers around what felt like the neck of some kind of bottle, though the slippery slick made it hard to hold his grip. He put his foot against the bottom shelf and his free palm on the tail end of the carrier, bracing himself and pushing against it so that it wouldn't slide off the shelf when he started to pull on the intruding object. He readied his arm. “Alright, Dean, I'm gonna need you to help. Give me a big push, kiddo.”

He waited a second, watching, and then finally saw his son’s channel contract – the omega pushing with all his strength – and started to pull on the bottle that was buried inside. It took a few focused seconds of teamwork, John really having to put his back into it – the resistance was almost like trying to pull out his knot while he was still tied – and then a large, oblong bottle of ketchup slowly appeared from the depths of Dean’s cunt before finally passing the widest part and shooting out with a loud, wet schluck and a wave of slick, the sudden release sending John stumbling backwards a half-step.

John stared down at the bottle in his hand. Sheets of slick sluiced off of it and pattered to the floor. He looked over at Dean’s gaping hole, feeling awed that something so big had been tugged out of his son and amazed that it'd made the boy so wet. He reached out and stroked the leaking entrance, then easily slipped four fingers inside, running his thumb around the rim.

“Good job, Dean,” he said, breaking rule number four of Dean’s punishment again. “What a slutty little cunt. This bottle is massive, but you swallowed up the whole thing and almost didn't let it go; your hole must’ve been really hungry for it. I'm proud of you.” He left his hand there, letting Dean’s tired hole suck on it.

“I’m sorry, Dad,” Sam said tearfully from beside his elbow. “Those betas wouldn't have gotten him if it wasn't for me.”

“You're damn right,” John growled, eyes still trained on where half his hand disappeared inside his son's loosened, gaping channel. “Samuel, I have half a mind to ground you for another week. This is why you can't leave your brother alone when he’s like this! Those beta boys shouldn't have touched Dean without my permission, and now we’re going to have to buy all this stuff that wasn't on the list since they're covered in your brother’s slick!”

Sam traced the lines of a tile with the toe of his shoe. “I said I was sorry, Dad. I really am.”

“You better be. You know whose allowance I'm taking this out of?”

“Dean’s?” Sam asked hopefully after thinking for a second. “Since he's the one who got them dirty?”

“You’ve got a smart mouth, son,” John cautioned wryly. “It's not Dean’s fault that his hole is so slutty it will slick up for anything.” He felt the slutty hole in question flinch around his hand. “And those boys wouldn't have been able to put that shit inside him if you were keeping an eye on him like you were supposed to. I hope you learned your lesson here, Sam.”

He finally pulled his fingers out of the worn-out cunt and checked his watch. It was three o’clock. An hour earlier than he'd told Dean, but he decided that the young omega had been punished enough for the day.

John lifted the carrier down off of the grocery shelf and set it on the floor, then unzipped the top and started undoing the snaps that connected Dean’s harness to the wall of the carrier. Dean probably thought that he was just being taken out to be held, and his dripping pink hole started to flutter with excitement, but when the boy felt John begin to undo the buckles and clasps that kept him bound up in the latex bodysuit he blurted a little spurt of grateful slick. John had never seen another omega whose emotions were so closely tied to his slick production. It was cute, no doubt about it – really, really fucking cute – but his boy could get awfully dehydrated if he wasn't careful.

As always, while the hood was the last to go on, it was also the last to come off. After gently peeling the bodysuit off of his son, the omega's limbs were left pale with the latex powder and damp with sweat, and he could barely uncurl his arms and legs after having been bound immobile for so many hours. Nevertheless, with his face still obscured by the hood, he tried to reach his skinny arms blindly up towards his Alpha even before John had pulled the penis-shaped plug out of his ring gag.

“Aaahh!” Dean said unintelligibly, desperately, through the ring gag when the plug was gone. “Aaahhhh!”

“Shh, Dean, baby, hush now,” John said softly. “Time to get this hood off.”

He unbuckled the straps in the back and then started to peel off the black hood, uncovering first Dean’s blond hair – stuck flat to his head and sweat-damp – then his eyes, which were scrunched closed against the light, and then his freckled nose and cheeks. Finally, John eased the ring gag from between his jaws.

Mouth still hanging open, plush lips a little swollen, Dean gingerly squinted his eyes. He tried to raise a shaking hand to block the harsh LED lights of the grocery store, but it weakly fell back into his lap before making it halfway. He slowly closed his jaw, tried to open his eyes again, and then gave up and started bawling.

“You f-f-forgot about me!” he wept, all but collapsing forward into his Alpha’s waiting arms. “You and Sammy! You l-l-left me all alone and let them g-get me! I was alone and they took me and put things inside me! Even though you p-promised I didn't have to do any more betas today!”

“No, no, sweetheart,” John comforted, wrapping his omega son into a fierce hug. “We never forgot about you, I promise.”

“You did! You forgot me, Daddy! You were gonna l-leave me behind!” Dean cried and cried, tears wetting the front of John’s shirt. “Please don't leave me, Dad, I'll be good! I’ll do all my chores, I promise! I'll never forget my chores ever again!”

Dean always forgot to call John ‘Alpha’ when he was inconsolable like this, reverting back to his pre-slick childhood when he could call John ‘Dad’ just like Sammy did. Another Alpha might reprimand him for it, but John didn't mind; truthfully, he liked it.

John held Dean’s shaking body and rocked him. After a minute, Sam came up too and hugged his big brother from behind. It took a while for Dean to calm down, but eventually his sobs had quieted to little hiccups and his tears had mostly dried up.

“We didn't forget you,” John firmly told him again. “Sammy made a mistake, but we never forgot about you, and we'd never leave you behind. I swear it, Dean. You could forget to do your chores a hundred more times – a hundred thousand more times – and we wouldn't leave you. You'd have to be punished again, of course," he chuckled, "But that would never mean abandoning you. You're ours. You belong to us. We're never gonna let you go.”

When Dean was finally ready, John packed up his bondage gear into the omega carrier and slung it over his shoulder, then led his boys back to the abandoned cart in the frozen food section. He let Dean pick an ice cream flavor now that he could see and talk, and then pushed the cart to the checkout. Dean was using one hand to hold tightly onto his dad's shirt, and the other to hide his genitals. Even after all this time, the omega was still shy about his public parts and often tried to cover them the way an alpha or beta would cover their privates. John found it equal parts baffling and adorable. 

A few beta shoppers glanced at Dean with distaste, judgmental of the naked omega’s disheveled appearance and the drips of slick that he was trailing behind him. It wasn't against public decency laws for an omega to be fully nude out and about, but people generally found it a bit uncouth when an Alpha exposed more of his omega than its hole. Dean usually wore his regular shirts and omega pants out of the house, anyway, but this wasn't the first time he'd had to go naked before. John studiously ignored the prudish passersby and Dean didn't notice them looking, glued to his father’s side with his eyes trained on the floor.

While John was paying at the register, Sam noticed that his brother was covering himself. The little alpha reached over to pull the omega's hand away and discovered that, now that he was out of the punishment bondage, Dean’s little cock was hard. The omega always seemed to be a little ashamed of the evidence that he had enjoyed being used, but John and Sam liked to celebrate it, so the little alpha wrapped his small fingers around Dean’s hard-on and stroked it until Dean’s body tensed up and he came into Sam’s cupped hand.

“Good boy,” Sam praised encouragingly, mimicking what he’d heard his dad say many times before, and wiped the tiny spurt of clear omega cum onto Dean’s tummy.

They drove home mostly in silence, Dean in the backseat with Sam, curled up with his head in his little alpha brother’s lap. The omega car seat was unneeded now, so it was packed in the trunk with the groceries. In the rear view mirror, John watched as Sam pressed gentle kisses onto his big brother’s flattened hair and comfortingly stroked the omega’s used cunt.

“I promise I'll never leave you behind like that again, Dean,” Sam told him, sliding his right hand all the way into the omega’s sloppy hole and stroking the omega’s hair with his left. Dean curled up tighter and hid his face in his shoulder. His hips shook in little jerks as Sam gently moved his arm in and out. John would make sure that Dean drank a lot of water when they got home; his son needed plenty to replenish the fluids he’d lost to slick and tears throughout the day.

That night for dinner, after giving Dean a scented bubble bath, John made him tomato rice soup – just like Mary used to – using the can that the beta boys at the grocery store had stuffed into his cunt.

Chapter 6: Show and Tell

On the first Friday of the new school year, Sam ran straight to the kitchen all the way from the bus stop with a skip in his step.

“Dad!” he shouted, slip-sliding onto the tiled floor in his socks. His alpha dad turned to look at him from where he was shaping burgers at the counter. “Guess what!”

“What?” Dad asked indulgently, looking amused, a handful of ground beef in hand.

“You know how I'm the only alpha in my class this year? Well, today we did an activity where we drew our family and then told the class about them. It turns out, none of them have an omega at home, either! Only one of them had ever even touched an omega before. So they all thought it was really cool that I had a big omega brother.”

“That’s pretty cool, Sammy. You should tell Dean about that when he gets home.”

Sam nodded. “That's not all, though! We’re having a show and tell day on Monday, and Miss Carter said it might be nice for me to bring Dean for it. Then I can show him to my class and tell them all about him. Everyone thought it was a really good idea.”

His dad frowned thoughtfully as he continued to shape and pile burgers onto the plastic cutting board. “That does sound nice, Sammy. I'm sure your brother's school wouldn't mind me pulling him out for that, as long as he doesn't miss anything important. But I can't stick around your school all day watching your brother, Sammy, I have to go to work.” 

“You could just drop him off at the main office on your way to work,” Sam pleaded. “And then after show and tell he could go back and wait there for you to pick him up during your lunch break.”

Dad hummed and nodded and went over to the sink to wash his hands. “Let me think about it, Sammy. I'll see if I can make it work.”

When Dean came home from his bus stop thirty minutes later, it was to find his little brother crashing into his arms almost the second he stepped through the front door. 

“Whoa! Where's the fire?” he laughed. He looked a little shaky and worn out; Fridays were always the hardest for him at school, he said, because of how excited everyone was for the weekend. Sam didn't really know what he meant by that.

“Look, Dean!” Sam said, showing his brother the drawing he’d made earlier that day. “I drew our family for school!”

The little-kid drawing was done with colored pencils. Some of the other kids in Sam’s class were really good at art, and Sam wasn't one of them, but he'd still tried really hard and he was proud. There was their little house with the red roof and the climbing tree in the backyard. There were three smiling figures, the tallest of which had black hair and was wearing blue coveralls and holding a wrench. The smallest, brown-haired, was wearing a soccer uniform and had a soccer ball under one arm. With his other arm, he was holding hands with the central figure, who was golden-haired, green-eyed, freckle-faced, and wearing nothing at all. A woman in a white dress with blonde hair and angel wings was smiling down on the three happy figures from the sky. 

“That's really nice, Sammy,” Dean said softly, tracing his fingers along the pink smile that Sam had drawn on the colored pencil-Dean. His other hand unconsciously clutched at the front of the shirt he had worn to school.

“That you, Deano?” Dad called, sticking his head into the hallway from inside the kitchen to look towards the front door. “Go wash your hands and take off your clothes, it's time for dinner.”

Dad made sure that Dean drank three tall glasses of water at dinner that night. “You need to hydrate, sweetheart,” he told Sam's big brother gently. “Fridays are always rough, huh? You're all fucked out.” He had two fingers in Dean’s hole, being all delicate and fatherly as he soothed Dean's silky inner walls, his palm cupped over Dean's soft penis. Dean nodded as he gazed at his dad from over the top of his glass and then spread his legs wider when Dad nudged at him with the side of his occupied hand and slipped a third finger inside.

"I wanna feel," Sam piped up. He'd been so distracted by asking Dad about show and tell and showing Dean his drawing that he'd forgotten to see how loose Dean was after school like he usually did.

"You can feel it after you finish your vegetables, Sam," Dad told him with no room for argument in his voice. He curled his fingers inside Dean and, when Dean made a little whimper and twitched his hips, began to pump the three fingers in and out of the boy's used channel. Sam kneeled up in his chair a bit and peered over the edge of the table to see that his dad's fingers were glossy with slick each time they reappeared from inside his brother's hungry pink cunt, and Dean's thighs were quivering.

When Dean's soft little cock started to fill up and harden under Dad's palm, Dad started fucking him in earnest, aiming for that sweet spot inside that made Dean spurt if you hit it enough. Dean's cunt was sopping now, and his hole started making loud squishing noises with each pump of Dad's fingers while his sweet-smelling slick blurted out onto the seat of his chair. Sam couldn't help but giggle at the silly sounds that his brother's slutty omega hole was making, and Dad chuckled along with him while Dean turned red.

"I think I'll be able to get my whole hand inside, soon," Dad told Dean with a smile. "Just like Sammy can. Your slutty little hole will like that a lot, huh, Dean?"

Squirming in his seat, Dean coughed a little bit, choking on his water because Dad hit his sweet spot just right. "Um, I... nngh, I, unh..."

"C'mon, sweetheart, use your words."

Dean's wet eyelashes fluttered and he bit his lip, both hands closed around the half-empty glass where it rested on the dinner table in front of his half-eaten plate. "Yes, Alpha."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, my, ah, my s-slutty hole will like it when you put your whole hand inside me just like Sammy does." He peered up at Dad, a little nervous, checking to see if he'd answered the question right. Dad smiled fondly down at him and bent over to give him a kiss on the top of his head.

"I know it will, kiddo. Your sloppy little cunt is always hungry for more."

— 

Dad ended up agreeing to let Sam bring Dean in for show and tell, so he told his teacher about it first thing in the morning when he went into the classroom on Monday.

“He's gonna drop Dean off a little later so I can pick him up from the main office,” Sam told her.

“That sounds wonderful, Sam, your classmates are going to be so excited. We’ll wait until then to start, and you can go first.”

Maybe forty minutes later, the class phone rang and Miss Carter went to answer it. She listened for a minute before saying a few words and hanging up. Sam was bouncing in his seat, confident that the call had been about Dean, and when Miss Carter looked up at him and smiled he shot to his feet before she even said anything.

“Sam, your father just dropped by the office. He brought your item for show and tell. You can go pick it up and then come right back.”

When Sam skipped into the main office, he looked around, but didn’t see anyone there except for the secretary. 

“Where’s my brother?” Sam asked, looking around while he walked up to her desk. “Miss Carter said my dad just dropped him off.”

“You’re Sam Winchester?” Sam nodded. “Your principal wanted to use the omega while we waited for you. He’s still using it in his office, but he’ll be finished soon. You can just wait here until he’s done.”

The secretary went back to looking at whatever was on her desk, ignoring him, and so Sam ran over to peek through the tall, narrow glass window in the principal’s office door. Through it, he saw Principal Callahan sitting in his big leather seat in the middle of the room. He had Dean’s body folded over his right leg with his muscular thigh digging into Dean’s lower tummy. Dean’s legs were long and gawky behind him, the toes of his shoes digging into the carpeted floor. Both of his arms were crossed over his face; he was biting down on one of them, and the other one covered his eyes. One of Principal Callahan’s big hands was holding Dean pinned down at his lower back, and the other was resting on top of something shiny and metal that was sticking out of Dean’s cunt through the seat of his omega pants. As Sam watched, the Principal raised his hand and then slapped it down onto the flat end of whatever was sticking out of Dean, making the omega’s legs jerk. His toes skidded on the carpet and he winced, biting down harder on his forearm.

Watching with wide eyes, Sam saw that Principal Callahan had glanced up and noticed him peeping through the door. The man didn’t look mad, though. He just gave Sam a wink and then continued to lay a few more hard spanks onto the object in Dean’s cunt, driving it deeper with every firm swat. He paused every now and again to grab the end and twist it a bit, occasionally fucking it back out and then into him in a big scooping motion that made Dean's fingers curl as he panted, open-mouthed, into his crossed arms, drool trailing down his chin and dripping onto the carpet.

When the thing had finally sunken all the way into Dean's body, the principal stopped and used both hands to grab Dean's clothed butt on either side of where the object was doubtlessly still visible to him, wedged inside Dean's poor little cunt until it was flush with the rim. The older alpha squeezed the globes of the young omega's ass with both hands, rubbing and kneading and then pulling them apart to spread him open. Then the man leaned over and said something into Dean’s ear. Dean shook his head, but Principal Callahan spanked him again, dead center where his stuffed hole was, and Dean started nodding and nodding and threw out his hands.

Principal Callahan raised his palm again, hovering it over Dean’s rear like a warning, and Dean turned his head to peer over his shoulder at it and cringed. He said something to the alpha, and Sam couldn’t make out the words but he could hear the muffled cadence of his big brother’s voice through the door. Principal Callahan nodded and made a ‘Go on’ motion with his hands, and so Dean turned his face back towards the ground, took a couple deep breaths, and then balled both of his hands into fists and screwed up his face like he was trying to go to the bathroom.

Sam watched in awe as the shiny silver cylinder slowly emerged from where the Principal had packed it so far inside. Dean pushed real hard and it came out a couple inches, and then he let go and just lied there panting, draped over the older man’s leg with the fat silver thing sticking out of him; just a little bit further out than it’d been when Sam had started watching. It looked obscene, kinda, to see something that big sticking out of his brother’s hole while he was lying over Sam’s principal’s lap. Sam usually didn't know the alphas that used Dean; most of them were strangers. But Principal Callahan worked at his school. He had shaken Sam’s hand, once, when he got an award for a history essay, and now he’d just used that same hand to spank some sort of big… weird… thing into his big brother’s flinching cunt. And then made Dean push it back out.

Sam bit his lip and felt his face get hot. Between his legs tingled a bit, too. Dad said that when Sam got a bit older, using Dean and watching Dean get used would start to feel good for Sam, too, instead of just being fun and a nice way to spend time together. Feel good like how Dean felt when people used him. Sam wondered if he was almost old enough for that, now.

After a couple of seconds, Principal Callahan again said something lowly to Sam’s brother and raised his hand over the end of the silver thing, and Dean immediately squeezed his eyes shut and his body tensed up again as he started pushing once more. It kept going like that for a little while, the principal making like he was about to hit the cylinder back in every time Dean paused for more than a second to take a break, until finally the item fell out of him and into Principal Callahan’s waiting palm.

Now that it was all out, Sam could see that it was a tall, thick water bottle; the metal surface dripping with his big omega brother's slick. The principal pushed Dean’s exhausted body off of his lap and unscrewed the bottle to take a big gulp.

Sam backed away from the door to go wait in one of the chairs so that Dean wouldn’t know he’d been watching. Sometimes Dean didn’t like it when he knew that Sam had watched him get used by someone other than him or Dad. Sam didn’t really understand why, because Dean knew how proud Sam was to have a big omega brother with such a slutty hole and besides, he’d already seen Dean get used by so so many people that he should really be used to it by now. But oh well. Big brothers could be real weirdos sometimes. Sam hoped that he didn’t get that weird when he was a teenager.

The principal's office door cracked open a few minutes later, and Sam could hear the last few words as Principal Callahan finished saying something to Dean.

"- here ready to show his whole class the used-up hole that he has for a big brother. Don't keep him waiting."

Sam had barely heard what his principal had said, too happy and excited to see his big brother stumble out of the principal’s office. He jumped out of his chair and rushed over to Dean, and Dean smiled shakily when he saw him. He wrapped his little brother into a one-armed hug and gave him a noogie.

“Dean, don't!” Sam whined, glancing over at the distracted secretary and then making sure that Principal Callahan was back in his office with the door closed and not watching. “You’re embarrassing me!”

“Isn’t that what big brothers are for?” Dean asked, but he let him go. Sam pulled away and tried to fix his hair. “So, are you gonna take me to your classroom or what?”

“Yeah, I guess. C’mon.”

He led Dean out of the main office and started walking towards the stairs. Dean was limping a little bit, and Sam’s hand kept twitching towards Dean’s butt before he remembered that he was pretending that he hadn't seen and pulled it back.

“I saw you through the window, you know. I know you watched. You can stop acting like you didn't see it.”

Sam looked up to meet his brother's green eyes with shock, and then heaved a sigh of relief. “Let me feel,” he told Dean, and Dean obediently turned to give his brother access. It was a ritual that Sam had started pretty soon after his brother's hole got slick and alphas started using it; after Dean got used, Sam liked to see what the use had done to his omega hole.

Sam slipped his fingers through the gap in Dean's pants to run his fingertips over the sore hole. It was stretched and hot and wet and easily ate four of his fingers. Dad was right, Dean's omega hole could really never get enough!

“He made you pretty loose,” Sam informed his brother, gently soothing Dean's pink inner walls with affectionate strokes of his fingers and making the older boy's thighs tremble. Dean focused his eyes on the lockers in front of him. “That's good, though! I can use that for the show and tell.”

“Awesome,” Dean said softly, wrapping his arms around and hugging himself a bit.

“And, um, Dean?”

“What is it, Sammy?” Dean asked, looking away from the wall and back towards him. Sam hesitated and pulled his fingers out of Dean’s slick cunt to pick nervously at his fingernails.

“Um, I really want the kids in my class to think I’m cool. So is it okay if you… if you let me do all the talking during show and tell?”

Dean raised his eyebrow. “You don’t want me to talk?” Sam nodded. “Why, ‘cause you think if I talk they’ll think I’m cooler than you?” At that, Sam pouted, and Dean’s expression softened. He held out his arms. “Don’t worry, Sammy. You’re the coolest little alpha south of the North Pole. They’re gonna think you’re awesome.”

Sam dove into his brother’s offered embrace and nuzzled into his armpit, scenting him there even though now that he was a big kid he knew that people thought that was gross. It was just that that was where Dean’s scent was the strongest and most familiar; it reminded him of when he was littler and they shared a bed a lot and Sam slept with his face tucked under his big brother's arm. He really was too old to do it anymore, but Dean never made fun of him for it.

“You mean it, Dean?” he asked into his big omega brother’s ribs. Dean ruffled his hair and nodded.

“Sure. We’ll go in there and you can, um, show me to your class and tell them about my, uh, my stuff an’ everything, and I’ll be quiet. I won’t say anything, I promise. If that’s what you want. And they’ll think you’re Joe Cool or whatever.”

Sam grinned and continued to lead Dean back to his classroom. When they walked through the door, a tiny sea of curious heads turned to look at them.

“Alright, class!” Miss Carter said, clapping her hands together. “Sam’s back with his family’s omega for show and tell! Let’s all quiet down and pay attention!”

Chest puffed out, Sam tugged Dean into the room with a hand around his wrist and planted him in front of the teacher’s desk.

“This is my big brother, Dean,” Sam introduced him to the class. “He's four years older than me. He's an omega, which means he's very special because there aren't very many of them.”

“Do you know how many of them there are, Sam?” Miss Carter asked him nicely, using her teaching voice. Caught off-guard so soon into his presentation, Sam hesitated; he didn't like not knowing the answer to a teacher’s question.

“Um, in the whole world?”

“Yes.”

“I, um, I guess not,” Sam answered, a little disgruntled. He was supposed to be the one telling everyone about Dean, and already he looked dumb.

Miss Carter smiled and turned to talk to the whole class. “About one percent of babies are born omegas. That's only about one in one hundred, which is even less than the number of people born with red hair.”

“Oh, okay,” Sam said while his classmates nodded and murmured. He shifted a little bit on his feet, having lost a bit of his confidence, but then he felt Dean reach out and nudge his side a little bit. Dean could tell that the wind left Sam’s sails, and was trying to reassure him. Sam straightened up and stuck out his chest. “Anyway, since only one in a hundred babies are omegas, that makes them very valuable.”

One of the girls – her name was Jane, Sam remembered – raised her hand and Sam pointed to her, feeling very grown up and almost like a teacher himself. 

“I thought omegas were naked all the time,” she commented. “But yours is wearing clothes.”

“Well, Dean is naked sometimes. He doesn’t wear clothes when we’re at home except for when it's too cold for that. But he mostly wear clothes when he’s outside just like alphas and betas do, to protect his skin from bugs and sunburn and germs and stuff.”

“But I thought it’s against the law to cover up the omega hole?”

“It’s not covered up! See?” Sam grabbed his brother’s hand and was pleased when Dean allowed Sam to spin him around and bend him over the teacher’s desk without doing or saying something big-brotherly that would embarrass him in front of his classmates. Dean could be really cool sometimes.

Dean let Sam situate him so that he was comfortable, chest flat against the top of Miss Carter’s desk and head turned sideways, cradled in his crossed arms. Sam petted his back to let him know that he was doing a good job before putting his hands on the insides of Dean’s thighs and pushing them out. Dean got with the program and moved his feet further away from each other, widening his stance so that his legs were spread open.

“See?” Sam repeated to his classmates, pointing towards the seat of Dean’s pants where the familiar slot was sewn into the seam of the fabric. It went from about the middle of his butt to an inch or two beneath the bottom of the zipper in the front. “Dean only wears omega pants like this. They're specially designed for omegas so it only looks like his omega hole is covered, but really it's not.” The edges of the fabric had some overlap so that Dean’s genitals wouldn’t directly touch anything he sat on. It gave the illusion of full coverage, but it was quite easy for any alpha to pull the two sides apart and do what he wanted to the boy’s omega hole through the gap. Sam did so just then in order to demonstrate, giving the room a clear view of Dean’s twitching cunt, which glistened pinkly under the bright classroom lights. “All of Dean’s omega pants have a hole like this built in. He doesn't get to wear underwear, but he wears normal shirts like what we wear. Me an' Dean shop for our shirts and shoes and stuff at the same stores, but my dad has to get his pants at the omega supply store with his other omega stuff.”

“What’s the big deal about the omega hole, anyway? What's so special about it?” one of the boys asked with his hand in the air. Sam couldn’t remember his name.

“It’s special ‘cause that's where Dean makes slick,” Sam informed the room. “Omega slick is really important because alphas like me need it to stay healthy and not go into rut.” 

“Do you eat it?” another kid asked to a chorus of giggles and "Eww!"

Sam giggled himself. “No! Well, I guess you can. My dad licks it off his fingers sometimes, but I never tried. It does smell really good, though…” He paused, suddenly wondering what Dean's slick tasted like, and also remembering that slick didn't smell the same way to betas as it did to alphas. “It smells good to alphas like me, at least. But anyway, you don't need to eat it, just touching it is good enough. That's the reason why alphas get to use omega holes whenever we want.”

A girl named Evie, who Sam already didn’t really like because she made a nasty comment about his dirty tennis shoes on the first day of school, raised her hand and then, even though Sam didn't call on her, pompously said, “I thought alphas used omegas because they're cocksleeves.” She put her hand down and smirked at Sam. “That's what my alpha daddy says. He says that he fucks an omega whenever he sees one because they're just cocksleeves and all they're good for is stuffing with alpha cock.”

Sam narrowed his eyes at her and felt a little alpha snarl rise up in his chest. “Well, my alpha dad says that only alphas who don't know what they're talking about say things like that, probably ‘cause they don't have an omega of their own,” he retorted. “Dean’s cunt is good for stuffing with loads and loads of things, not just cocks. Plus, he can make the best macaroni ‘n’ cheese and he helps my dad fix the car sometimes and he always beats me at Mario Kart. And he's good at being a big brother.”

Evie scowled and opened her mouth to say something else – probably some other stupid thing that her dumb alpha dad told her – but Sam’s teacher cut in.

“I’m gonna give you a warning sticker, Evie,” Miss Carter told her sternly. “You know the rules. We don't insult the things our classmates bring to show and tell.”

Sam tried not to let his satisfaction show at Evie getting reprimanded, but he couldn't help but grin a little. Preening, he turned back to Dean and then told the omega to stand up straight and turn back around. When Dean was back to standing facing Sam and the rest of the class again, he was biting his lip, blushing and nervously fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

“Pull your pants down,” Sam instructed him. Dean hesitated, but then at his little alpha brother’s pleading expression, he nodded and undid his button and zipper, pulling his pants down around his knees. Sam realized that just having them pulled down wouldn't give him enough room for what he wanted to show his class, so he corrected himself. “Take them off, I mean.”

When Dean's omega pants were off – and Sam had messily folded them for him and put them on top of his desk for safekeeping – Sam made him sit up on top of Miss Carter’s desk. After Dean was situated, Sam had him scoot back a little bit until he could bend his knees up to his chest and put the heels of his feet on the edge. Sam pushed his big brother’s ankles apart to widen the gap between his feet until his legs were spread hugely and the class had an unobstructed view of his sensitive core.

“These are Dean’s public parts,” Sam told everyone, pointing out Dean’s soft cock and balls, open pink omega hole, and furled little asshole underneath it all. “They look kind of like boy privates, except for his omega hole. That hole belongs to every alpha, but the other parts only belong to my dad and only Dad and I are allowed to touch him there.”

Sam saw a boy named Justin raise his hand. “Does it always look like that? The omega hole, I mean.” Justin was referring to the way that the entrance to the channel was swollen and stretched, pink walls fluttering with shyness and embarrassment around a gaping blackness that promised a deep, empty hole. 

“Not always, but he's really stretched out right now because Principal Callahan used him right before we came up.” Sam hooked a couple fingers on each side of his brother’s rim and spread it open, twisting his body around a little so that he could stand off to the side and show his classmates how much Dean’s cunt could stretch without blocking their view. “Something really cool about my brother is that he's got a really slutty hole. Dad says it's the sluttiest hole he's ever seen, and he's been to a lot of different states and to war and stuff so he's seen a lot. See how much room there is in there?” He felt the pink cunt twitch against his fingers and the walls started to clench instinctively, but Sam frowned and met Dean’s eyes and his brother quickly tried to breathe deeply and relax. After a moment, the walls slackened, showing the curious eyes of the other students how wide open it was inside and saving Sam from looking dumb in front of his whole class.

“The sluttiest ever?” Jacob Greenleaf asked doubtfully, seemingly not convinced by Dean’s impressive gape. Sam nodded insistently. He didn't have any reason to doubt his alpha father, and he'd heard plenty of other alphas say the same over the years while they used his omega brother.

“Yes. The sluttiest ever. And it’s not just my dad who says it, a lot of other people say it too. It's a really, really slutty hole. It can stretch really wide and even deep, too. And because it's so hungry, it makes a lot of slick. More than any other omega hole ever, probably. That makes it really fun to play with, ‘cause it can fit just about anything.”

“More than just cocks?” Jemma giggled, side-eying Evie, who was pouting at her desk. “Like what?”

“Well, Principal Callahan got his whole water bottle inside this morning,” Sam told them. “And it was a really big one. And I can put my whole arm inside it pretty much all the way to my elbow if he’s already loose like this.”

“No way,” a boy called Robert scoffed. “Your whole arm? No way.”

“Yes way,” Sam insisted, adamant to be believed. Dean shifted his feet a little uncertainly, probably able to see where the conversation was leading. “I can prove it. See?” Sam released the stretched entrance and it relaxed, closing a little, but Sam quickly stretched it back out again with his closed fist. The pink cunt was still slick enough from the Principal’s handling that morning, and the little alpha’s small arm easily slid inside. Sam kept pushing firmly into the quivering, warm embrace until his knuckles were pressed up against the dead end at the very back of Dean’s hole and its rim was sucking appreciatively around his forearm, just underneath his elbow. 

He’d forced a little “Unh” from Dean’s chest at the steady plunge of his arm, and he could hear the gasps of amazement from his classmates and Miss Carter saying something that sounded impressed. Sam felt a flutter of pride in his belly knowing that he'd proved himself right and that the class was suitably awed. He wanted to prove to Jacob Greenleaf that Dean really did have the sluttiest hole in the world and make everyone see how amazing and special his big brother was, so he frowned in concentration and shook his floppy brown hair out of his eyes. Then, he twisted his arm this way and that until he could feel the stimulation encourage more slick to start to ooze out of the slackened pink walls of the captive hole. Finally, he put all of his strength into pushing against the resistance at the back of Dean’s cunt until it stretched and stretched out long enough that even his elbow popped through the wet mouth of the hungry hole.

“Nngh, no, Sammy!” Dean whimpered quietly, the first thing he’d said since he’d been brought into the classroom. His hands shot out and down towards his cunt as if to grab Sam’s arm and pull it out, but he quickly got ahold of himself and diverted their path, instead bringing his hands up to cover his blushing face. “Sammy, it's too much!” He was still whispering so as not to interrupt Sam’s lecture, speaking quietly enough that only his little brother could hear. “You – ah! – y-you pushed it in too deep, Sammy, it’s too… Unh!”

Sam pulled back out to halfway down his little forearm and then shoved it all the way back in, twisting it like a corkscrew the whole time. Dean’s sloppy cunt ate up his elbow again. It was the deepest Sam had ever tried to stuff his arm inside, and he felt really proud and pleased with himself. 

“Don’t worry, Dean,” Sam quietly reassured him. “You don't know how much you can take, remember? You're just an omega. I’m an alpha so you gotta let me decide.” He pumped his arm again, and a blurt of slick squirted out around his elbow when it again forced its way through while Dean let out a little yelp. “See, Dean? Your hole is swallowing me easy, it’s fine!”

He fucked his arm into his brother’s slackened gape again, his forearm wet with new slick, and Dean mewled and dug his fingernails into his cheeks as he craned his neck down to see where Sam’s arm vanished into his body. With every long thrust, both him and Sam could see a little bulge appear in his stomach, and Sam changed the angle of his thrusts to make the bulge bigger and more obvious to make sure that his classmates could see it.

Dean's inner thighs and the soft skin between his legs were blushing as red as his face and his toes were curling over the edge of the desk. Sam halted the pumps of his arm for a moment and beckoned Dean to scoot his butt a little bit closer to him, and Dean dazedly obeyed. Just the little change spread Dean’s shaky legs even wider and meant that Sam could plunge his arm deeper… as long as his brother’s hole would make room for him. 

He started up his thrusts again, punching sweet little “Uh uh uh!” sounds up from between the omega’s full lips. The slick-sloppy noise of the hungry cunt swallowing his arm again and again was loud and clear as a bell for everyone in the room to hear. Sam could feel Dean’s hole somehow softening with every thrust, allowing him to get a fraction deeper each time. He could already get half an inch higher than his elbow! Sam really did have the best omega brother in the world. He'd never say it aloud, ‘cause Dean would probably mock him endlessly for being so sappy, but sometimes Sam thought that his brother’s hole loosened and slicked up the easiest for him and Dad because Dean loved them so much.

“His hole’s so slutty that it keeps stretching even when it seems like it's totally full,” Sam happily told his classmates. “See, I just had to try a little bit and I got it deeper than I ever did before!” 

“Sammy, nnh, please,” Dean begged, and since he'd done such a good job taking it and hadn't done anything to embarrass him like big brothers were wont to do, Sam decided to be nice and listen to him. He slowly withdrew his arm, pulling a long, keening moan from Dean as his knuckles slipped down through the loosened hole. When he finally pulled out his closed fist, the worn-out entrance reluctantly let it go with a wet, sucking pop, slick trailing behind it. 

“Can it eat anything?” Robert asked, sounding impressed.

“There's probably something it couldn't eat up,” Sam told him, “But we haven't really found it yet. Dean’s omega hole is just really hungry, so as long as we’re patient and we work real hard, we’ve been able to make everything we’ve tried to fit so far.” He shrugged and wiped his hand off on Dean’s inner thigh. His brother had fallen onto his back on the desk and was gasping in shaky breaths, legs trembling and the opened pink walls of his channel twitching spastically around nothing. He stared up at the ceiling with glazed, unfocused eyes. Dean was half-hard now, and Sam knew that if he put his hand back in – not as deep, but just up to his wrist – and worked it at the right angle, he'd be able to hit his sweet spot right and make Dean's hips hump up and do those funny little jerks and get him to harden all the way, maybe even make him come with a couple gentle strokes on his penis. But he figured that he'd already taken up enough time for the show and tell; they still had the rest of the class to go through.

“Can I go up to the front to see the omega hole up close? I can't really see from back here,” one of the kids sitting towards the back of the room asked. A few of the others sitting around them chorused their agreement.

“If Miss Carter says it's okay,” Sam agreed.

Their teacher nodded. “Everyone who wants a closer look can get up and go see. One at a time, don't huddle around; I want you to form an orderly line. And remember, no touching the omega. It's not yours to touch, and its Alpha didn't give permission.”

The beta students excitedly jumped out of their seats and started to line up a few feet away from Sam. Sam benevolently stood to the side and used his fingers again to spread Dean’s used rim widely so they'd be able to look all the way inside.

One by one, his classmates approached and bent over to peer between Dean’s legs at the boy’s fluttering pink hole. None of them tried to touch it, but a few of the boys thought it'd be funny to blow into it to watch the way that the silky, dripping pink walls shivered and flexed. Each time their warm, taunting breaths rushed in to caress his used insides, Dean shuddered and bit his lip, eyes slipping closed with a flutter of tear-wet eyelashes.

When the line had dispersed and all of the students had returned to their desks, Miss Carter clapped her hands together and approached the boys at her desk with a smile. “Well, thank you very much, Sam, for showing us your family’s omega hole and telling us all about it.” Sam beamed up at her, feeling really pleased that he’d done a good job for show and tell. Miss Carter put her hand on his shoulder and then turned to face the class. “What do we say, class?”

“Thanks, Sam,” his classmates chorused. Sam clasped his hands together behind his back and bounced a little bit on his heels, feeling elated.

Recognizing that the ordeal was over and that Sam didn’t need to use him anymore, Dean lowered his feet off of the desk and gingerly pushed himself up until he was sitting. The movement stirred an embarrassing noise from his gaping entrance – causing the class to muffle laughter and him to blush – and his cunt twitched and clenched, the slick that Sam had stirred up inside him sliding out in a slippery rush to drip down onto the floor.

“Sorry, Miss Carter, I didn’t mean to make a mess,” Sam apologized. “Dean makes a lot of slick so it’s kinda hard not to, though.”

“That’s alright, Sam. Why don’t you take your brother with you to the bathroom on your way down to drop him back off at the main office. You can wash your hands and clean him up a little, and bring back some paper towels to wipe off my desk when you get back.” 

Sam grabbed Dean’s folded omega pants from his desk and then led his older brother by hand out of the classroom and down the hall to the bathroom. Dean scrubbed the back of his sleeve over his eyes while Sam wetted some paper towels and wiped off the inside of his legs for him, then nudged Dean’s knees apart and wadded some dry ones up into his hole a bit to soak up some of the slick that was still dripping out. Sam helped Dean get back into his pants after that.

“Do you think I did a good job?” Sam asked nervously while Dean buttoned up his pants. He was starting to second-guess himself.

Dean nodded his head. “Yeah, Sammy,” he said quietly. “You seemed like you really knew your stuff and everything. And your class seemed like they really liked it.”

Sam felt himself relax a bit and smile. He wrapped his arms around his brother’s waist in a brief hug. “You’re the best, Dean. It wouldn't've been half as cool if you didn't have such a slutty omega hole. I couldn't have done it without you.” Dean chuckled shakily and returned the hug.

Dean held onto Sam for a second longer than normal, and when Sam pulled away and looked up, he saw his big brother staring straight ahead at his own face reflected in the bathroom mirror. Sam curiously searched Dean's face to try to see what he was looking at, but it looked normal; his pretty freckles, his bitten lips a little swollen, and his eyes glistening and cheeks flushed like they usually were after his omega hole had gotten used a bunch.

"Whatcha lookin' at?" Sam asked, and Dean's lips parted. He hesitated for a moment, mouth open in an uncertain little O, before finally speaking.

"Am I used up?" he asked. His voice was really quiet.

Sam cocked his head and frowned. "What?"

Dean licked his lips nervously. "Am I a used-up hole, Sammy?"

"A used-up hole?" Sam repeated, confused. "I don't get it. You're my big brother Dean. You've got a used-up hole, I guess. Is that what you mean?"

Dean was silent for a few moments, just breathing, not looking away from his own reflection.

"Used-up means worthless," Dean finally whispered. Sam frowned and tugged on his brother's hand until Dean looked away and down at him, meeting his eyes.

"That's not true," Sam told him fiercely, "Not if whatever's used-up is made for it. And that's what your omega hole was made for, right, Dean? It was made to be used by alphas, so if it's used-up, that just means it's doing what it's supposed to do! Really, it'd be worthless if it wasn't used-up! Right?" He nodded decisively and reached his hand down to jam his fingers back up into Dean's gaping cunt – as reassurance or as something else, he didn't know, it just felt right – and he forced a little yelp out of his brother with his intensity. "You're not worthless, Dean, and your hole isn't, either. You're an omega! You're so special! You're worth more than anything, as long as your omega hole is being used! Okay? I promise."

He kept his fingers inside, feeling Dean's hot, slick walls flex and weakly suck at them, the stretched rim mouthing hesitantly at his knuckles as though begging him to push in deeper and prove the honesty of his earnest words. Dean stared down at where Sam's hand disappeared through the gap in his pants and into his body with a trembling lower lip and shining eyes. Then he looked back into the mirror.

"I'm not worthless as long as I'm being used," he said distantly, and Sam smiled and nodded and pulled his fingers out with a little slick sound so that he could wrap his arms around his big brother's ribs again and bury his face into his armpit.

"Exactly." When he pulled away, Dean still looked a little pale, but his face didn't look so blank. He smiled a small smile at Sam, who grinned back. "Now, are you ready to go back to the office?"

While he led Dean back through the halls to the main office, Sam surreptitiously raised his slick-wet fingers to his mouth to taste them. He wasn't sure why he'd never tried it before; Dean smelled so good, it made sense that he'd taste good, too.

When Sam returned Dean to the main office, the secretary looked up from her desk only briefly before returning to her papers. “Your father said he wouldn't be able to come back for his omega until one o’clock, but Principal Callahan offered to keep an eye on it until then. You can leave the omega in his office.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Sam said and pulled Dean over to the big office door. Dean was dragging his feet, back to looking a little distant like he had in the bathroom. Thinking that he probably knew what was bothering his brother, Sam got up on his tiptoes and cupped his hand around the side of his mouth to whisper into Dean’s ear. “Don’t worry, Dean,” he said. “I got you really loose, and you've still got a lot of leftover slick in there. If he wants to spank the bottle in again, I don't think it'll hurt at all, so I bet you'll like it even more this time.”

He smiled encouragingly at his big brother and then raised his little hand, which still smelled strongly of slick, to knock on the principal’s door.

Chapter 7: Free Use Period I: Prepping

Most of the kids in Dean’s grade had six classes a day, one free period, and a lunch break. Dean would have liked to take six classes, too, because there was a lot that he wanted to learn even though he was an omega. But the alphas on the school board knew better what he needed, so he only got to take four classes, and the rest of his daily schedule – and the whole day on Fridays – he had free use periods. During his free use periods, Dean had to go to the omega use room and be made available for alpha students to use during their own free periods or lunch break. This was standard practice at every public school in the country, providing a public service for young alphas who might not have access to an omega in their home life. 

Usually, the few omegas in every school had their free use periods staggered and distributed evenly so that there was always an omega available at every point during the school day. This also allowed the omegas to have time to rest between uses and get a bit of education (or as much of one as an omega could get). Dean’s middle school had a little over five hundred students, and nine of them – including Dean – were omega boys. 

It was a good number, and at the start of the year it had meant that Dean, along with each of the other omega boys, had been given similar schedules to the rest of the students: six classes, a lunch break, and one free use period. Dean had liked that schedule; his free use period had been his third period – right before lunch – which meant that he’d been able to eat right afterward, which always helped to make him feel less shaky. He’d take his bagged lunch that Dad had made for him outside to under the bleachers in the football field, where almost no one ever found and fucked him. Dad usually drew a silly stick-figure picture on his lunch bag, which always cheered Dean up if he was feeling weird or bad or anything after his free use.

But then, the school superintendent had visited one day and happened to come into the omega use room during Dean’s scheduled time. He'd only had to use Dean once to realize that Dean’s omega hole was so slutty that it needed to be getting a lot more use than it was with the original schedule. So the alpha superintendent had taken a personal interest – he was lauded in the community for being such a caring and hands-on superintendent – and made sure that Dean’s schedule was changed so that he had free use periods scheduled for every hour, every day, without even a break for lunch.

Being forced to drop all of his classes had been so upsetting that Dean had cried himself to sleep at night for three days straight. He knew that school didn't really matter for him since omegas weren’t very smart, but he liked to learn; even if it was very hard to concentrate when the students sitting next to him kept putting things inside him when the teacher wasn't looking.

He'd tried to hide his tears from his dad. He hadn't wanted Dad to find out about his schedule change because he was embarrassed that his hole was so slutty that the school board thought he needed to spend eight hours a day getting fucked. But Sammy had tattled, worried about his big brother who was crying so much, and then Dad had wrapped him up in his arms and pulled him into his lap and made Dean tell him what was wrong. When Dean had finally confessed, his dad had been furious – not at Dean’s slutty hole but at the school for allowing the schedule change without consulting his Alpha – and took off work the next morning so that he could personally take Dean to school and yell at the principal.

“I’m the first to admit that my son’s omega hole has exceptionally high needs,” Dad had growled at Dean’s principal in her office while Dean waited in a seat just outside the door. “But there is no reasonable explanation for forcing him to drop all of his classes, and it is illegal to deny him a lunch break. Now, I am not leaving this room until we have come to a reasonable understanding, and if you refuse, you can better be fucking sure I'll be getting a lawyer.” 

Listening to his dad shout at the principal – and, later, the vice principal and a visiting member of the school board as well – Dean had wrapped his arms around his legs and buried his face in his knees and just felt so relieved and grateful that his dad was on his side that he'd silently cried until it was all over. Dad had come out, seen Dean’s tear-wet face and red eyes, and immediately scooped him up into his arms and announced that Dean would be at home sick for the rest of the day.

Thanks to Dad, the school had relented by giving Dean back his lunch break and allowing him to add some of his classes back onto his schedule. He'd been given the option to do either three classes daily, or four classes on Monday through Thursday with a full day of free use on Fridays. Dean had chosen the latter so that he could keep all of his favorite classes. Two of his free use periods changed hours on a weekly rotation, which meant that his class schedule rotated too, and the other omegas liked that because it meant that they got the week off when Dean took their hour (they all got Fridays off, now, since Dean had to do the whole day). His third period free use, however, was permanent because it best suited the superintendent’s personal schedule; the alpha’s personal interest had persisted, and he seemed to find reasons to drop by Dean’s school during third period at least twice per week.

Dean still wished that he could go back to his original schedule with six classes all week. But all of the grown-ups – even, begrudgingly, his dad – had agreed that the modified schedule would be good for him as a high-needs omega with a very very slutty hole, so he didn't complain. He didn't want to seem ungrateful. He was so grateful for what he had, knowing what could've been.

Free use periods always started the same. Dean would arrive at the omega use room, which was a small room next to the school gymnasium that you got to through the cafeteria, a few minutes before the bell rang. After checking in with the free use monitor, he would then undress and put his backpack, clothes and shoes in one of the cubbies on the wall that were provided for the omegas and any alphas that came by to use them. Then, the free use monitor – almost always one of the gym teachers – would strap him onto one of the free use benches, which kept his hips tilted up and his legs spread widely so that his omega hole was easy to access and at a comfortable height for alphas to use. Finally, the monitor would cage his cock and balls and insert a plug into his ass to ensure that the visiting alpha students couldn’t touch the parts of his body that belonged only to his Alpha. 

On this particular Friday, the free use monitor that got him set up in the morning was Coach Brady; he was the third period free use monitor, but he substituted in for other periods sometimes. Especially when Dean was the in-use omega.

Coach Brady was a muscular beta who always seemed to take great pleasure in prepping Dean for free use. His hands lingered on Dean’s naked limbs as he strapped the young omega into place bent over the bench, raising goosebumps and the little hairs along the backs of his arms. After Dean was bound and the straps were tightened, he closed his big hands around the backs of Dean’s thighs, just underneath the curves of his butt, and stroked the sensitive, delicate skin between his legs with his rough thumbs. His touch was very intimate, more so than the other monitors. It made Dean shiver. 

Coach Brady never actually touched what he wasn't supposed to, but his fingertips would brush so closely to the rims of his holes – the rough pads of his thumbs catching and tugging just at the edges of where Dean’s sensitive skin became slick and pink and internal – and he would use his thumbs to pull him open and breathe hotly into the wet heat of Dean’s twitching insides while the young omega was bound into position so tightly that he could barely move.

“I shouldn't be, not by now, but I'm always surprised by how tight and small your cunt looks at the beginning of the day,” Coach Brady told him. His mouth was so close to Dean’s spread hole that it felt like the man was talking into him; like Dean could feel the touch of the words on the inner walls of his channel. “You get so loose and wet and gaping by the end of the day, but you always look normal the next morning.”

Dean didn't know what to say, so he just made himself relax onto the bench while he could feel the muscles in his cunt twitch and spasm under the coach’s gaze. The man’s hands were big and rough like his dad’s, but the way they touched him didn't feel the same. Dad was gentle and his touches always felt loving, even when Dean thought that he might prefer to just be hugged. Coach Brady touched him like he was touching something that he wanted to eat.

He spent several minutes like that. Tied down and spread open, pinned into place like a bug under a microscope with big palms squeezing around his skinny thighs and thumbs massaging circles into his flesh that made his slick pink cunt open and close like a little mouth. Then, finally, the coach let him go.

The beta man then reached for the school-issued cock cage – a small steel device that was slightly dented and scuffed from being dropped on the floor too many times – and closed and locked it tightly around Dean’s soft penis and small testicles. The school kept two kinds of cock cages: one that caged both penis and testicles and one that caged the penis only. They only kept them in the standard small omega size, which presumed either an intact but undeveloped omega, or a more mature omega that had been castrated to prevent development. The cage had been getting tighter lately because Dean was growing a little bit; it pinched and hurt him more than it used to.

“Still can't believe your Alpha hasn't had you snipped yet,” Coach Brady mused as he closed the lock with the key that he had hanging around his neck on the same string as his whistle. Dean shivered. His dad had assured him more than once that he wouldn't ever have him cut, but so many alphas – and even betas like Coach Brady – always commented on it that Dean sometimes feared that someone would take the initiative to do it themself one day.

After the cock cage came the anal plug. The school plugs were made of stainless steel, just like the cock cages, because it was easy to clean and durable enough to almost never need replacing; the ones that they used had been around for probably ten years or so already. There were three standard sizes, and all of the free use monitors liked to use the very biggest one on Dean even though the smallest one, which was what they used on the other eight omegas, fit him just fine. 

Coach Brady slicked up the large plug with the school-provided lube from the industrial-sized pump dispenser that was set on a table beside the bench. The lube was mostly only used on the other omegas, because their omega holes weren't as slutty as Dean's and didn't get slick for anything no matter what like his did, but the monitors did thankfully use it for inserting the anal plug.

Coach Brady didn't stretch Dean’s asshole since that would mean touching what wasn't his, but instead just put the rounded tip of the metal plug against his tight sphincter and started to steadily press it in. It was cold, and Dean shivered and flinched. The omega use room had a sink against the wall next to the cubbies so that alphas could wash their hands with soap after using an omega, and most of the other monitors ran hot water over the plug to warm it up before putting it inside of Dean. But Coach Brady never did.

“That's it,” the coach said softly as the pressure of the cold, hard plug started to force Dean’s hole open. He pushed it in to its widest point and then held it still, there, until Dean whimpered and tried to shift and move his hips. He’d do anything to get the plug to move – out of him or deeper inside, it didn’t matter – so that his poor rim wouldn't be stretched so wide. That hole wasn't like his omega hole; it wasn't so slutty, and it didn't stretch without pain the way that his cunt did. Dean wondered if the man knew that it hurt him, holding the plug partway inside and spreading him like that. Maybe he thought that he was doing Dean a favor, like alphas said they were when they stuffed his cunt until he thought he'd burst.

“Coach Brady,” Dean finally whimpered when he couldn't stand it anymore, hips wriggling and trying so unsuccessfully to escape the relentless stretch. “P-please.”

“Not even your Alpha fucks you here, does he?” the coach asked, pressing the plug the rest of the way in until Dean’s hole had swallowed it up to the base. Then, he pulled it back out nearly all the way, making Dean keen and his cunt clench with sympathy for his other hole’s plight. “You're always so tight here. It doesn't get the same use as your drippy little omega sluthole. I bet I'm the only one who does this to it. Am I right?”

Dean could only nod and bite his lip. Dad and Sammy touched him there when they had to give him an enema, or sometimes just to tease him, but otherwise they kept their touches solely to his other public parts. Dad said that his asshole wasn't hungry or made for alpha pleasure like his omega hole was and that Dean could choose himself to explore it one day, if he wanted, when he was older. And the other free use monitors just pressed the large plug inside in one smooth motion and then left it there until it was time to take it out.

“That's what I thought. Fuck. Fuck.” Coach Brady pushed the plug back in and out until the cheap, water-based lube began to dry and the steel was pulling at his rim uncomfortably. With the lube dry, it took more force behind each thrust to get Dean to take and then release the plug from his tense body. At least the steel wasn't so cold anymore, and his hole had started to loosen up a little.

"Nngh," Dean groaned at a particularly uncomfortable thrust, and Coach Brady hissed.

“You're such a little fucktoy. Look at you. Look at you just take it. You take alpha cocks and fingers and whatever else they give you like it's nothing." His breath was starting to come in little pants as he continued to thrust the metal plug inside Dean's squirming body. "God, what did those nerdy alphas put in you last week? Fucking action figures or something? Little Dungeons & Dragons figurines, yeah, and those geeky dice, all spilling out of you like your slutty omega hole was just a fucking storage container. They put whatever they want in your cunt, but they don't get this, do they?” Coach Brady began to twist the plug as he pumped it inside the abused hole. “No, they don’t. They don't get this. They don't get to feel you like this.”

Dean didn't know what to do. It felt wrong, what Coach Brady was doing to him; the words he was saying and the way he was inserting the plug. It wasn't all clinical like it was supposed to be. The plug was just supposed to be a tool like the cock cage, to keep his asshole barricaded from being touched and used. Dean felt uncertain, a deep ache in his chest; he wanted to ask Coach Brady to stop, or tell someone else about what was happening. But he was going to be strapped down to this bench until lunch… and what good would it do, anyway? The beta coach wasn't touching his asshole with his fingers or non-authorized objects, so what he was doing wasn't breaking any rules. He wasn't breaking any rules, so Dean shouldn't be feeling so weird about it. Dean was just being difficult. So he squeezed his eyes shut and hung his head to rest his forehead on the padded slat beneath his face that was there for that purpose, and chewed on his lip, swallowing his whimpers until the coach was satisfied and slid the plug into him for the final time.

When the plug was finally seated fully, Coach Brady again dug his thumbs into the soft skin between his legs on either side of his omega hole, just barely far enough outside of it to not be breaking any rules, and pulled them apart to spread him open. Dean could hear the man collecting saliva into his mouth and braced himself; a moment later, he felt the man spit into his open cunt. Coach Brady did that every time after he'd finished prepping Dean, and it always made Dean feel very small and quiet.

“Slutty little cocksleeve,” Coach Brady said, lowly, as he watched his spit drip down into the dark depths of Dean’s fluttering hole. “Still can't believe your Alpha convinced them to let you go back to class. If I was your Alpha, there'd be no class for you; no learning, no socializing, no making friends.” He made a low, strangled little moan at the idea of what he was saying. At the thought of Dean never being talked to or touched or treated like a person instead of a hole ever again.

"Nnhhh," Dean whimpered. He felt something hard against the back of his thigh as the coach shifted forward, surreptitiously rubbing the front of his athletic pants against the naked flesh of the bound omega.

“Holes like you shouldn't get any of that," Coach Brady continued. "Your entire life should just be getting filled and used nonstop. Not like regular boys… Fuck, you're not even a boy, are you? You're really more fucktoy than boy. Fuck, yeah.” He thrust his hips a little, grinding his hard, clothed beta cock against Dean’s bare leg. “You are, you're just a fucktoy. You walk and talk like a real boy, but everyone knows you're not." He spit again into Dean's hole and then pressed his fingers into the swell of the boy's ass hard enough to leave little bruises. "If I was your Alpha, I'd let them strap you down outside the school seven days a week for anyone walking past to use. That's what fucktoys like you should get. You’d just be a free-to-use fleshlight for the entire community... I’d post a sign giving blanket permission for all betas and alphas alike to touch every single part of you however they wanted. Send the janitor out once a day to clean you out inside and wash off the graffiti. Bet you'd be fucking covered in it, like a fucking toilet stall. Fuck.”

“Coach Brady,” Dean whimpered, voice quiet and trembling. The coach’s rough thumbs were still moving, pulling him open and closed, the action getting rougher as the man continued to rub his cock against him.

“You wouldn’t get a lunch break. No breakfast or dinner, either. Fucktoys don't get any of that. You’d learn to live off cum or go to sleep hungry. Leave you there for hours and hours, only take you off the rack at night so I could comfortably fuck you in my own bed.” He muffled a choked moan, hips stuttering as he continued to rub himself against the captive boy beneath him. "You wouldn't get to sleep on it with me, of course. When I finished with you, you'd get stored in the chest at the foot of my bed with all my other sex toys. Don't want you thinking you're different than any other plastic cocksleeve just because you've got a pretty face."

Dean shuddered and sniffled, feeling his eyes burn. With a moan and a final thrust against Dean’s thigh, the beta man finally pulled back his hips and removed his hands. Dean could feel his pink channel slowly close around the gobs of spit inside it. There was a wet smear on his thigh where the head of the coach's cock had been rubbing against him through the man's pants. He blinked, and a couple of tears pattered down onto the padded forehead rest.

He didn't like Coach Brady.

Chapter 8: High School Track Meet (Part 1): Glory Hole

One Wednesday morning that Dean had free use during his first period, he was called to the main office before the monitor had even strapped him to the bench.

“It sounds like they need you for something,” Miss Jordan, who was the school librarian and the first period free use monitor, told him. “They’re going to send Jamie down to substitute for you while you’re gone. You can go ahead to the office right now, though. They said you can leave your things here.”

“Oh, okay,” Dean replied nervously. He glanced at the cubby where his backpack, clothes, and cell phone were tucked away. “All my things?”

“Yes, you won’t need them.”

Dean didn’t really like being naked outside of the omega use room. It mostly only happened when other students sometimes caught him and took his clothes away to tease him during lunch or passing period, or when a teacher needed to use his body for a class demonstration. It made him feel very vulnerable to walk through the halls like that, even though they were mostly empty; the only people that he passed on the way to the main office were a couple of beta teachers and the one alpha janitor who always stopped Dean whenever he saw him. Like he usually did, the alpha took a minute to bend Dean over and fill the boy’s twitching omega hole with his demanding tongue. He seemed pleased that this time, Dean was naked and he could run his hands all over the smooth skin of his long legs and the swell of his ass.

Coach Brady was standing in the main office when Dean arrived. He was chatting with the principal with a metal clipboard tucked under his arm and a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. The beta man and woman both turned to look at him when Dean stepped through the door.

“Ah, Mr. Winchester, finally,” Coach Brady said with a predatory smile. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

“Um, Miss Jordan said you wanted me for something, Principal Andrews?” Dean said, nervously hiding his public parts with his hands because it felt weird for the principal to be looking at him while he was naked even though she’d been in to observe him during his free use period a few times.

“Yes, that’s right. The high school is hosting a track and field event today, and they need an omega for the athletes and spectators. They were going to use two of the high school omegas, but I guess a flu has been going around; three of their omegas are already out sick, and they can’t spare any more. So we’re loaning you to them.”

Coach Brady grinned broadly and ran his eyes slowly up and down Dean’s naked body. Dean cast his eyes to the floor.

“For… for just first period?” he asked the principal hopefully.

She shook her head. “The event is going to last most of the day.”

“I have a math test in my eighth period,” Dean said quietly. It wasn’t an objection; he knew better than that.

“Isn’t he a doll?” Coach Brady stepped forward to ruffle Dean’s hair. He dropped his hand behind Dean’s head to settle around the back of his neck, squeezing until Dean bowed his head submissively. “The silly thing actually enjoys pretending to take math tests with the other students. I wish my son was half as enthusiastic about school as our favorite omega hole is.” The man’s thumb stroked the delicate shell of Dean’s ear. “Like I was telling you, he’s a joy to monitor. And incredibly slutty. I’m certain just his one little cunt will be more than enough to make up for the two that the high school can’t provide.”

Dean’s face burned. He didn’t pretend to take the tests; he really took them. He’d studied for this one all week, and he wanted to see if he’d been able to learn almost as well as his alpha and beta classmates. The teacher wouldn’t grade his, but Dean always kept the tests he took and then compared his answers to the graded ones that his classmates threw away when they got handed back.

“Dean, Coach Brady is going to show you where to go and help get you set up once you’re there. We have a few eighth graders from the varsity team attending the meet, so you'll be riding the bus with them to the high school.”

Coach Brady leaned down and put his mouth to Dean’s ear. His warm breath ghosting across Dean’s neck made him shiver. “If you do a really good job at being an alpha cocksleeve today, maybe we’ll let you finish early and take the bus back to school in time for your little math test.”

Dean squeezed his eyes shut as he felt Coach Brady's hand drop from his neck to caress his lower back just above the swell of his ass. He would. He'd do a good job. Dean would try his best and he'd do a good job and they'd let him come back to school in time for math class.

The beta man said goodbye to Principal Andrews, and then Dean allowed himself to be guided out of the office and through the halls towards one of the middle school’s rear exits. A bus was idling in the parking lot there, and a group of seven eighth graders – three beta girls, two beta boys, and two alphas – were waiting beside it on the sidewalk wearing their track uniforms.

When they got on the bus, the betas sat next to each other near the front. Coach Brady took Dean towards the rear and slid all the way onto the bench until his back was against the window, pulling Dean in after him and settling him in his lap. The two alpha boys followed and sat on the bench across the aisle. Their coach used his hands under Dean’s thighs to bend the omega in half and spread his legs widely for their pleasure. 

Coach Brady made Dean bring his hands up to his knees to hold them in place so that he could use his own hands to reach down and spread Dean’s omega hole open. His thumbs stroked Dean’s hips and he watched with hunger as the two alpha boys reached out to begin to play with the little pink cunt. He kept Dean spread like that for the duration of the ten-minute drive to the high school, his hard beta cock digging into Dean’s lower back with familiarity. 

“You're going to get used by so many people today,” Coach Brady murmured as he nuzzled the side of Dean’s face. He was clean-shaven, but the skin of his jaw was rough like sandpaper against Dean’s soft cheek. “Young alpha athletes all sweaty and hopped up on adrenaline, and their alpha fathers and coaches. Because that's what fucktoys like you get. You're gonna have to put this slutty omega fuckhole to work. You gonna be a good cocksleeve today? You gonna do a good job?”

“Yes,” Dean whimpered.

“Yes, what?” Acting even more boldly than he usually did while he was monitoring Dean’s free use period, Coach Brady gently closed his lips around Dean’s earlobe and sucked, tonguing at it and making Dean shiver. A shameful zing of pleasure shot from his wet earlobe down to between his legs, making him spurt slick onto the alpha boy’s hands and his cock start to swell. On seeing the reaction that his attention had elicited, Coach Brady laughed darkly and then bit Dean’s earlobe hard between his front teeth, adding sharp pressure until Dean squealed. The young boy’s hips jerked and twitched while his cunt hungrily clamped down on the invading alpha boys’ fingers. 

“Coach Brady,” Dean begged, toes curling, tears filling his eyes. The adult beta laved his hot tongue over Dean’s hurt earlobe and dug his fingers harder into the skin where he was holding the young boy’s pink hole open.

“What are you gonna be?” Coach Brady repeated while pressing filthy wet kisses behind Dean’s ear and at the hinge of his jaw and then at the corner of his mouth. The alpha boys watched their coach’s behavior with curiosity and a little bemusement, their fingers still working inside of Dean’s reluctant cunt. They thought it was kind of weird to see someone be interested in any part of the boy's body other than its omega hole.

“I'm gonna be a… nngh, a good cocksleeve.”

“Fuck. Yeah, that’s right, you fucking toy. You fucking fucktoy.” He licked a blazing stripe up the length of Dean’s neck and then focused his attention on Dean’s scent gland, roughly nibbling and sucking on it. 

The feeling of teeth and tongue and wet hot suction on his scent gland was something that Dean had never felt before. Right there was where Sammy hid his face to scent his big brother for comfort when Dean made him watch a scary movie with him. Right there was almost the only place that Dad touched both him and Sam the same way: chastely, tenderly, brushing it with the side of his thumb or rubbing it with his scruffy cheek to mark himself with Dean’s scent and make him smile and giggle.

Coach Brady’s mouth right there felt… It felt weird and wrong and it wasn't painful but it hurt, it hurt him in a way that he'd never hurt before, and Dean didn’t want the beta to be touching him there like that. But his silly, stupid, slutty omega hole liked it and his little hips humped up against the alpha boys’ fingers uncontrollably. Dean started to wail at the overwhelmingly confusing and shameful sensations, but he swallowed the sound and bit his lip; nevertheless, his hungry little cunt blurted more slick and his cock twitched as it filled and grew even harder.

“I didn't know omega cocks could get that big,” one of the alphas said with a little frown. “It’s not supposed to get hard, is it?” The boy looked strangely angry as he watched Dean’s hard cock, which was pointing up at the ceiling of the bus, sway and bob as they continued to fingerfuck him. The alpha boys had only ever used Dean during his free use period while his penis was caged, and had never seen him erect.

“It shouldn't, but this fucktoy’s Alpha hasn't had it properly taken care of,” the coach answered. “At this age it shouldn't even have balls, and its cock should stay soft and small so it can focus on just being a sex toy.”

One of the alpha boys cruelly swatted Dean’s little balls, hard, to try to force his cock to soften. It made him yelp and flinch in the coach’s grip, but the beta man pretended that he hadn’t seen. Dean’s teachers did that a lot: pretended that they didn't see when the other kids touched him in places where they weren't supposed to. They probably didn't think it would be fair to punish all of those students when they were only doing what Dean’s slutty body made them do.

When they pulled up to the high school, the students excitedly filed off the bus. One of the alpha boys gave Dean’s balls another surreptitious, punishing swat and then angrily squeezed his penis and made him yelp. There wasn't really any reason to, because they'd already been able to force his cock to soften by meanly pinching the delicate skin of his inner thighs. Both alpha boys were still mad that Dean’s cock could get hard and was normal-sized.

There were already a lot of people at the high school. Coach Brady guided Dean over to some busy-looking high school coaches and then somewhat reluctantly handed him off to a tall alpha called Coach Davis, who immediately steered Dean through the crowds by a firm grip on his shoulder. The alpha seemed stressed, and his long, swift strides and stern frown easily cleared their way and discouraged anyone from attempting to get in his way and use Dean.

Finally, they arrived at a small plywood booth that was set up very near the track’s concession stand. There were some beta students working at the concession stand, stocking the freezer and starting the fryers and popcorn machine. They glanced over at Coach Davis and the naked boy, but quickly turned back to their job.

The plywood booth looked handmade, as if it had perhaps been a student project. It had four walls and a roof all connected together with nails, some of which had been hammered in bent or crooked. The plywood was sanded smooth on the outside and painted red, with a hole that had been sawed out of the front wall at about waist-height and had a bright golden starburst skillfully painted around it. Above the starburst were the words “FREE TO USE” painted in opaque black lettering, with a black arrow underneath pointing down. There was a ring of black padding around the outer edge of the glory hole to protect anyone who used it from bruising or scraping their hips on the wood while they thrust.

Coach Davis took Dean around to the back of the glory booth where both the rear and left walls swung open on hinges, revealing the inside. The inside wasn't finished like the outside was; the plywood was unsanded, unpainted, and splintery. A handmade wooden bench, also rough and unfinished, was set longways in front of the glory hole. Two pairs of cuffs were bolted to the front wall above and beneath the wooden opening. The glory hole didn't have protective padding on this side, which meant that Dean’s skin would be pressed up directly against the splintery edges of the sawed wood.

“Get in,” Coach Davis said shortly, and Dean hastened to let the alpha lie him down on the bench and position his body. Dean was scooted down the bench until his omega hole was properly centered and flush to the opening in the wall. His legs were bent up to his chest much like Coach Brady had bent them on the bus, and the upper set of cuffs buckled around his ankles to keep his feet in place, pressed flat against the plywood with his heels at his hips. Then his arms were pulled out straight at his sides until they were just below his feet and his wrists were buckled into the lower set, hands bent awkwardly downward with his knuckles scraping the wall. The restraints pulled his arms tautly, enough to be uncomfortable, and Dean tried to bend his back up a little to ease the tension but then another strap that he hadn't noticed wrapped around his chest and upper arms so that he was held tightly flat against the scratchy wooden bench. This final position left him only able to move his head and wiggle his fingers and toes as he was tension-held forcefully to the circular opening, and would ensure that his cunt never shifted out of alignment.

“We’re too short-handed for this,” Coach Davis muttered to himself. Then, to Dean, “We couldn't spare a monitor, which is why we're using the glory booth instead of a bench. Wouldn't want your Alpha throwing a hissy fit if someone tried to use one of your other holes or god forbid -” he said that part mockingly “- smack your useless cock and balls around.”

That part made sense, but Dean wondered how the glory booth would prevent betas from fucking him without his dad’s permission. Before he could ask, though, the coach tugged at the bindings to check that they were tight and then backed out of the booth and swung the doors shut. Dean heard a latch close and then a small padlock was slid into place and locked with a key, leaving Dean with only the bare plywood and his own naked body to look at, cast into shadow and lit only by the streams of sunlight that shone through the gaps in the plywood sheets. The door rattled as the coach tested it, too, and then the man’s footsteps went around to the front of the booth.

“Can’t fucking believe they’re only providing us with one hole. The wait is going to be twice as long if anyone tries to tie it,” the coach complained irately to himself, no longer speaking to the boy that the hole was attached to. “Dammit, I really don't have time for this.” Dean heard the man crouch down in the dirt and then four fingers were unceremoniously shoved into his cunt. The alpha made a small noise of approval when he noticed that Dean was already dripping and open from the alpha boys on the school bus and Coach Brady’s attention. Dean let out a small whimper.

The four fingers twisted inside him for a minute before the coach deemed either that Dean was ready for more or that he couldn't afford to wait. He pushed deeper until half of his hand was in, the web of his thumb digging into Dean’s rim, and pumped it a few times before pulling back out to tuck in his thumb and force his cone-shaped hand in until the omega hole was straining around the wide ridge of his knuckles. 

“At least we got this one,” Coach Davis again muttered to himself, sounding begrudgingly impressed despite his irritation. “They said it was the sluttiest hole that’d ever enrolled, and it looks like they weren't lying.”

Dean let out a high-pitched mewl when the alpha coach forcibly wedged his hand all the way inside until the flushed pink cunt had swallowed it up and was sucking gladly around his wrist. The man then pulled his hand back to widen the slick opening. 

“It looked too small, but I think it'll work after all,” Coach Davis observed. His hand was stirring up the spasming pink hole in rotating, circular thrusts, beginning to make sloppy sounds as he encouraged the rim to stretch. “Just gotta get it loose enough that knots won't catch.”

He pulled his hand out and the twitching, sweetly loosened cunt was empty for only a moment. When the hand returned, it was closed into a fist. It forcefully attacked the tiny pink hole, pressing insistently against the just slightly gaping rim, which wasn't quite prepared to accept something of that blunt size. It took a few fruitless moments and then, by the power of Coach Davis’s desire to finish quickly and get back to his job, the slick cunt was finally breached. 

Dean groaned as he felt the massive, closed fist spread him wide. Coach Davis didn't let him sit with the feeling, though; he had places to be. Satisfied with the existing slick, the man shallowly thrust a few times before beginning to punch-fuck the young omega, pulling his fist back out all the way each time before he punched it back in. Dean couldn't help the little moans and yelps that each penetrating impact forced out of him. It really felt like getting punched, but with each hit the fist just kept going, sinking deep into his insides. It felt almost the same going out as coming in, as though the entrance to his channel was getting pummeled from both sides.

“Unh, unh, unh!” Dean whined as he felt the alpha’s knuckles intentionally catching on and stirring up his slackening rim in an effort to loosen the battered cunt as quickly as possible. It was important that the tiny pink hole was made sloppy enough that it wouldn't be able to tighten again over the course of the day. The messy sounds of the fist popping in and out of the hungry omega hole were loud enough that Dean could hear the beta students working the nearby concession stand giggle at them.

When Coach Davis was finally satisfied, he pulled his fist out of the abused hole one final time. The poor cunt was sufficiently worn loose, swollen and trembling. The greedy mouth of it hungrily sucked at the warm air. The gape was a slobbering, drooling mess, abundant slick sliding obscenely out of the quivering channel and down the pale skin beneath the reddened entrance before dripping onto the gold-painted starburst of the glory hole. 

“Can't believe I got that done in less than ten minutes,” Coach Davis lauded himself, and then he spanked the quivering gape with a hard, wet smack that elicited another helpless whimper from the captive boy and made him squirt a little bit. “Alright. Time to get back to work.”

The alpha’s footsteps soon retreated, leaving Dean alone with only the nearby sounds of the concession stand to keep him company. The absence of the coach’s fist made him painfully aware of the scratchy, splintery wood that he had been laid on, the way that his knuckles were scraping against the wall when he unconsciously tried to adjust his position, the hard edge of the glory hole digging into the delicate skin around his cunt, and the ache of his stretch-strained arms and cramped legs. 

Luckily, he didn't have to dwell on those feelings for very long, because people had been made aware that the glory booth had finished being set up and was ready for use.

The first cock that entered his nervous cunt belonged to one of the athletes from a visiting school. The older alpha boy had come to the glory booth with his teammates, and the group of them were chuckling and shoving each other around while they jokingly wondered if all omega holes from Lawrence were as loose as the one in the glory booth.

The alpha inside him pumped his hips, his hard cock sinking effortlessly into Dean’s hungry hole. When the alpha’s knot began to swell, Dean didn't even feel it, and only became aware of it after it had reached its full girth and began to make sloppy slurping noises as it was forced in and out of his slick entrance, catching only slightly each time before the worn-out ring of Dean’s rim accepted it with a wet, sucking pop.

“Thank God,” the alpha boy moaned. “Check it out, you guys. We can all get our knots wet without worrying about being late to the race.”

“Nice!” his teammates chorused, and Dean heard a round of high-fives get exchanged. 

When the alpha came, he let out an appreciative moan and ground his hips forward into the slick mess of Dean’s cunt. He finally pulled out his softening cock a moment later, a thick string of alpha cum connecting the flushed head to Dean’s throbbing entrance. It broke and dripped into the dirt and the next boy stepped up to take his turn.

Cock after alpha cock breached the boy’s free-to-use hole, plunging past his loose rim and pounding his sopping wet channel. He needn’t have worried about betas trying to use him, because there were more than enough alphas to chase them out of the line if they tried. He never went more than a few seconds without someone touching or filling his hole. Coach Brady had told him to be a good cocksleeve, and cocksleeves don’t talk, so Dean did his best to swallow the whimpers and moans that struggled to work their way out of his chest. 

With all of his strength, he tried to flex the abused muscles of his inner walls to milk the hot hard cocks and please the alphas that used him. They seemed to appreciate his effort, loud moans and grunts filling the air each time Dean blessed their cocks with a sweet, slick squeeze. They rewarded his hard work with harsh, wet smacks to his tender cunt after pulling out their spent cocks. The spanks to his swollen entrance stung and Dean wished they would stop, but he knew that the alphas were just giving him what his slutty hole deserved and so he tried to be appreciative in return. Each spank sent a shockwave through him, causing his immobilized body to convulse as well as it could in the restraints and making his hole throb with sharp pleasure all the way to the dead end of its silky pink depths. His cock was hard again, swaying and jerking with every small movement.

The involuntary spasming of his body with each spank to his quivering hole caused the gaping, swollen mouth of it to wobble and the inner walls to contract, sending thick blurts of fluids spilling out in little waves. The men and high school boys in line were entertained by this and laughed good-naturedly with each other at the way that the obscenely wrecked omega hole drooled slick and cum. There was so much of the bodily fluids stirred up and overflowing that a wide, wet stripe of the slimy mixture had coated the red-painted plywood of the glory booth. The cloudy glaze spilled from the lower edge of the pouting, reddened rim all the way down to the dirt. 

“My son told me that this is the middle-school hole that’s so slutty it needs to get used five times as much as the other omegas,” one of the men said to the other alphas in line as he untucked his cock from his pants and approached. “I guess my boy and his friends sometimes drive over there on their lunch break just to get a taste.”

It was true that Dean sometimes got use from high school juniors and seniors who were allowed to leave school grounds during lunch and visit other campuses. They were supposed to give the middle school alphas first crack at Dean’s hole, but in practice the younger boys frequently stepped aside to watch in awe as Dean's little cunt was eagerly ruined by the bigger hands and larger, mature cocks of the high school boys. He wondered which of them was this alpha’s son. 

The older man pushed into him and began to thrust and grind his hips. Dean was already exhausted by then from the strain in his limbs and the endless exercise of clenching and flexing his poor, abused channel for countless alpha cocks. He wasn't sure how long he'd been in the glory booth, but it felt like it’d been hours. He wondered if he'd been doing a good enough job that Coach Brady or someone would let him out soon.

“Damn, this really is one sloppy sluthole,” the alpha grunted as he plunged his hard cock into the captive cunt. “I wouldn't mind using something like this on the daily. Shit, I’d drop by the school to use it on my lunch break, too, if they let the public on campus for that. Those little alpha boys better appreciate what they’ve got.” His knot began to swell and he adjusted his angle to make sure it tugged on the loose hole’s swollen rim as well as it could while it popped in and out. “A stretchy cunt like this tied down on a silver platter is hard to come by; fellas like us can only pray we stumble across it while we're out and about.”

The alpha plunged his cock one final time into the sloppy little hole and groaned his release, then popped his barely-deflated knot back out. He thumbed at the trembling entrance, pinching the pouting lower edge of the hot, slippery rim tightly between his fingers.

“This thing is so used-up that it almost looks like a real pussy instead of a fleshlight.”

He pulled on the poor, abused lower rim, stretching it out far enough to elicit a tiny squeak from a tearful Dean despite his commitment to being a good, silent cocksleeve. When the man let go, the worn rim bounced back into place with a jiggle. 

The man chased it with his fist, punching into the cum-drenched, swollen gape with the same force as Coach Davis had done. His hand was the same size as the coach’s was, but it felt smaller to Dean because of how loose he'd become. The alpha punched him again, plunging into his silky depths with a squelch, and Dean clenched down weakly with slackened muscles around the forearm. With another rough punch into his poor, beaten cunt, Dean's green eyes rolled back into his head and he orgasmed, shooting slick from his hard little cock up onto his chest and shaking so hard in his restraints that he felt like he was vibrating. His sweet pink lips were parted in an O, and his freckled cheeks were flushed bright red. If he only refocused his eyes and looked down, he'd be able to see the shape of the alpha man's fist bulging out of his flat little stomach.

The alpha didn't seem to have noticed the physical reaction that his action had caused to the little omega and just kept punch-fucking the spasming cunt through waves and waves of shameful pleasure. Slick and alpha cum blurted out of the stuffed hole around the man's thick forearm.

“I wonder if its Alpha is willing to sell,” he mused.

“Why would you wanna buy the whole worthless body when you can get just the slutty hole for free?”

“‘Cause it'd be nice to have a setup like this at home, that's why,” the man grunted. “Maybe install something in the living room wall, keep it locked up like this all day so I wouldn't have to worry about it getting into our things or being a distraction. It could sleep in there, too, so it wouldn’t really take up any space. I’d just have to get the boys to feed it twice a day when they feed the dogs.”

A couple of waiting alphas laughed. “You think your missus would be happy about you installing an omega hole fleshlight in your living room wall? Look at the mess. This slutty hole makes enough slick to power the fucking Hoover Dam; there's no way she’d put up with cleaning that up every day.”

“Yeah, I guess you're right,” the alpha accepted. “I wasn't really serious, anyway. To tell the truth, I can’t imagine how this thing’s Alpha does it; I wouldn't be able to put up with having to spend all that money and time to feed and clothe a walking fleshlight. And on top of all that, he probably has to listen to it talk, too, as if a slutty omega hole has anything interesting to say.”

“Maybe he keeps it gagged at home,” another alpha offered.

“Yeah, he probably does.”

Dad only gagged Dean when he got in trouble and had to be punished. And Dad liked listening to Dean talk; he asked him questions about his day and listened to him with a smile. And Dad never acted like he was annoyed that he had to buy food and clothes and toys for him as well as Sammy. He even bought Dean special presents sometimes when he saw something that he knew Dean would like.

Dean was glad that his dad wasn't the kind of Alpha that this man would be. If his dad were to keep him bound and gagged with only his hole visible, embedded into the wall like some sort of fixture or appliance, and never allowed him to do anything with him and Sammy other than be their faceless, bodiless fleshlight, then Dean thought that he'd never stop crying for the rest of his life.

The alpha slickly withdrew his fist and then gave the well-used hole maybe its hundredth smack of that day. The impact made a squishy noise – it sounded mushy; the poor thing was really starting to look worse for wear, almost unrecognizable – and sent a splatter of slick and cum spraying from the soaked, flabby little cunt.

“Alright,” the man said cheerfully. “Who's next?”

Chapter 9: High School Track Meet (Part 2): Garbage Hole

Dean had been in the glory booth for hours and hours before his use frequency started to die down. Eventually, his hole had become so loose and unappealing that the alphas in line hadn't even wanted to put their cocks in it anymore and had opted to restrict themselves to punch-fucking it instead.

His wrecked cunt proved to be an entertaining punching bag, what with the way that it loudly squelched and squirted and slickly embraced their eager fists and much of their forearms. When Dean was able to find enough strength to squeeze around their arms, they rewarded his hole with laughter and exhuberantly harsh spanks; when he was too weak with fatigue or wrung out from an orgasm to do so, they punished his hole with mocking and even harder smacks.

He could only be grateful that they were still enjoying the glory booth because it meant that he might still be a good enough cocksleeve to be let out in time for math class. He was similarly relieved that – thanks to how weak his beaten inner muscles were – they didn't seem to be able to tell when the clenches and spasms of his shameful, slutty channel were from orgasms, because he wasn't sure if good cocksleeves were supposed to come.

Eventually, after a seemingly endless train of penetrating punches and spanks to his demolished hole, no new alpha stepped up to use him. It must have been nearing the end of the track meet, because there didn't seem to be a line waiting for his hole anymore. Or for the concessions, either; he could hear the nearby concession booth starting to clean and close up.

Exhausted and worn, Dean tried not to focus on the ache in the muscles of his restrained limbs or the feeling of the hot breeze caressing his slackened inner walls through the terrible gape of his stretched entrance. Slick and cum was smeared all around his loosened pink cunt and dripping into the dirt beneath him. He wondered if he'd see a puddle there, when they came to let him out, or if it had soaked in and turned to mud.

He felt a fly land on the exposed bit of skin of his inner thigh and the muscles of his cunt weakly twitched, but the movement didn't scare it away. The little legs tickled as it walked across him. He had a silly thought that maybe it was an alpha fly and that it liked how his slick smelled. 

The fly buzzed and crawled a little ways into his gaping hole, the tiny legs on the silky inner walls making them flutter and flinch. Dean hoped that it wouldn’t crawl into him deeper and that it'd fly away soon, because he was worried that if someone came by to use him and saw the fly then they'd think that it was gross and that he wasn't doing a very good job. He had been working so hard all day and really trying his best, and he wanted it to be over soon and to get back to his school to take his math test. Maybe he'd still be able to do a good job even though he'd spent the day getting fucked stupid by too many alphas to count.

A couple of sets of footsteps approached accompanied by boisterous voices. It sounded like two of the high school athletes. They walked up to the closing concession stand and asked for chicken fingers.

“We’re all out,” the beta girl working the stand said. “Closing up for the day.”

“Aw, come on, Becca, we’re starving. Coach Davis didn't give us a break all day. Don’t you have anything?” 

“Hmm… Well, we’ve got a couple hot dogs left. They're fully loaded. They're not hot anymore, but if you want them you can have them for free. I was just gonna throw them out.”

“Sweet!”

“You rock, Becks. I owe you one.”

The three high schoolers chatted for a bit while the girl finished closing up the stand. Dean drifted, letting their friendly conversation wash over him without really hearing the words. He was kind of pretending that he was standing there with them, a part of the conversation, instead of bound inside the glory booth with only his messy, worn-out cunt on display. He wondered what it would be like to just be a regular student at a school event who could walk around and buy snacks and say hi to people and laugh with friends.

After a little while, the boys said goodbye to the beta girl and started walking away. As they were passing by near the glory booth, Dean heard one of them trip and then the soft sound of something small falling to the ground.

“Fuck!” The alpha boy cursed. “Dude, my hot dog!”

His friend laughed. “Aw man, sucks to suck. At least you didn't pay for it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Can I have half of yours?”

“No way. But we can stop by McDonald’s on the way home.” His friend grumbled and started walking away. “Hey wait, man, you gonna pick that up?”

“And what, eat it?”

“Throw it away. You can't just leave it on the ground.”

“The trash can is overflowing, it'll just end up on the ground again anyway.” A beat of silence, then the alpha boy spoke up again with a sly tilt to his voice. “Hey, no, wait a second…”

Dean heard the alpha teenager bend down to pick his loaded hot dog up out of the dirt, and then footsteps approached the glory booth. He felt, like he'd been feeling all day, the presence of a hand approaching his cunt before it made contact. He braced himself to be punch-fucked again. The fly, which had been standing so still for a minute that Dean had forgotten about it, flew out of his open hole and buzzed away.

“This trash can is still empty. Plenty of room in here.”

Unceremoniously, the hot dog was stuffed into Dean’s gaping cunt.

The hot dog was still partially wrapped, and the foil went in first, warm and crinkly against Dean’s slackened walls. Unlike the fingers and cocks that he'd been getting all day, the hot dog was soft. If Dean hadn't been so loosened up, it probably would have been too soft to slide inside him. But Dean was loose – he was gaping almost as wide as the hot dog, bun and all – and the whole, half-wrapped length of it slid into him until foil gave way to bun and meat and toppings and his walls started to burn with the vinegar in the mustard and relish.

The alpha’s friend laughed in a way that sounded somewhere between incredulous and amazed. “Dude, that's so messed up.”

“You didn't want me to litter,” the alpha responded cheekily. Dean heard them walk away, then, chatting and laughing. Leaving him with the end of a loaded hot dog just slightly poking out of his hole, the bun growing soggy with his slick, and his channel walls throbbing and pulsing with the burn of the vinegar. Dean squeezed his eyes shut and tried to push it out, but it was deep inside him and too soft. With every clench of his walls, the hot dog just squished a bit, not budging a fraction but smearing more mustard around.

He whimpered and bit his lip. The burn persisted, making Dean’s eyes sting with tears. He began to shake in his restraints, and the movement pulled at his aching shoulders. The stinging pain didn't let up or get any better over time, and the fly came back with a couple of friends. At least they couldn’t crawl inside him anymore since the hot dog was in the way.

Maybe five minutes later, Dean heard a few more alphas approaching him, and his hole twitched and flared with relief. If they wanted to use him then they'd have to take the hot dog out, and maybe that would make the burning stop…

But when they saw the mushy mess poking out of his quivering hole, the alphas didn't pull it out right away. Instead they stood in front of the glory booth for a moment, taking in the image before them. Dean heard a few mutterings of disgust, and then a hand approached; but instead of reaching inside of him to pull out the hot dog, something new was pushed inside. 

“I thought there was supposed to be an omega hole for us to use over here,” the alpha said. “But there's just a garbage hole. Oh, well.”

Dean both felt and heard the crinkle as an empty chips bag got inserted into his hole alongside the hot dog, and seconds later, more trash was being shoved into him: some candy wrappers, a few more chips bags, some used napkins and a half-eaten slice of chewy pizza. Then, the alphas walked away, mumbling disappointment.

Dean felt something swelling in his throat, as big and hard as a jawbreaker. He was nervous to swallow in case he choked on it. 

He really… He’d really thought that they'd take the hot dog out of him, not put more garbage inside.

As Dean tried not to swallow around the knot in his throat, a gaping chasm expanded in his chest and dazedly – as though approaching the understanding through a dense fog – he realized that it made sense. People didn't want to stick their bare hands into the garbage. He wouldn't want to put his hand inside a trash can, either. And anyway, garbage holes weren't for pulling trash out of, they were for putting more trash inside.

There was a long stretch of time where Dean just floated. The concession stand was shuttered and no one passed by. If he cleared his mind and didn't think or feel, he could almost ignore that he was being used as a container for storing trash. After a little while someone did walk up to him, but the person just stood there staring in silence for a while before opening his pants. Dean heard the familiar sound of a hand stroking a cock, the man’s hand working himself hard and fast while his other hand reached out and tucked something new into Dean’s garbage hole.

Dean let his eyes slip closed. This was what he was, now. No one was going to take it out, and Coach Brady would be so disgusted when he came to let Dean go in time for the bus. 

The man let out a hiss and Dean felt hot cum spatter a little bit onto the soft skin around his stretched garbage hole, and then the man walked away and he was alone again. Soon, however, the distant chatter of the people at the event began to get louder, and more and more people began to approach the glory booth.

The track meet must have really ended, now, because Dean could hear the sounds of groups of people strolling past him and back to the parking lot. As the crowds dispersed and people left, many more of them wandered over to dispose of whatever trash they were holding into Dean. More and more garbage was stuffed inside of him. Maybe with all of the trash that was already sticking out of him, they weren’t able to tell that he was a boy and thought that he really was just a garbage can.

Dean whimpered. He stared up at the splintery ceiling of the wooden booth and blinked the blurriness out of his eyes. The bits of half-eaten food that people had thrown away into him had attracted more flies, and the tickling of their legs as they crawled all over the bits of him that were exposed was almost worse than the stretch in his cunt. He just wanted it to stop.

More hands shoved more garbage inside him, and they started to really have to push it in; to squash down what was already inside to the back of his packed hole and really stretch it to make their garbage fit. He felt the movement deep inside and looked down at his belly to see it starting to bulge. As the onslaught continued, he watched the mound of his stomach get bigger and bigger. His garbage hole was just a trash bag that was being filled up inside of the trash can that was his body. 

Time passed and hundreds of people filtered past the glory booth. It was hard work, being a garbage hole. Harder than being a cocksleeve because of the awful sad, hollow feeling that was swelling up inside him. Every piece of garbage that was forced into him made him feel emptier and emptier, even though his belly was getting so big with it. He looked like he was pregnant. Dean stared at the large mound of his swollen stomach as it slowly inflated between his cramped, folded legs with amazement and horror. He kept thinking that there wasn't any way that they could fit something more inside, but everything that was put into him was soft and squishy or compressible and they always managed.

It wasn't fair. Dean had… He had plenty of practice at being a cocksleeve. He could do a good job at that. But he didn't know how to be a good trash can; he didn't even think that was a thing you could be good at. So it wasn't fair, but it wasn't any wonder why no one had come to let him out and take him back to his school yet. He just. He just had to keep trying. To do a good job. So he could be back in time for his math class.

Finally, after ages and ages, the onslaught stopped. Dean could barely think, too overcome with the feeling of fullness in his jam-packed garbage hole that contrasted so starkly with the overwhelming emptiness that filled his chest. Everyone was gone, and he'd been left there all alone.

He wanted his dad. Had the coaches forgotten about him? Maybe whoever was meant to release him from the glory booth had come looking for him, but had just seen a garbage hole where an omega hole was supposed to be and assumed that someone else had done it already.

Dean wanted to cry, but the swollen fullness of his garbage-stuffed cunt had pushed him past the point of tears. He felt delirious with the need to be emptied. He was so out of it that he didn't hear the footsteps approaching him and it took several long moments to notice that the buzzing flies had been shooed away and a big finger was suddenly tracing around the stretched-taught rim of the garbage bag that was his omega hole.

“Oh, cher,” a low voice said, the soothing lilt of an unfamiliar accent pulling Dean up out of his spiraling thoughts. “What’ve they done to you? They ain’t been treatin’ you right.”

The warm finger continued to circle his throbbing rim, soothing the skin where it was stretched thin and packed so tightly that it couldn’t so much as twitch. Dean wondered what his garbage hole looked like from the other side of the glory booth. He imagined that it looked disgusting: used up and worn out, stretched past the point of appeal, packed tight and distended and overflowing with gross things that no one would ever want to touch. 

Despite what it must look like – what it must smell like – the finger continued to soothe him, and was even joined by the alpha’s other hand. Dean could barely believe that the owner of such a kind voice was able to stomach touching something as gross as his slutty garbage hole. He felt rather than heard himself let out a long, keening whine as the fingers stroked him, completely unable to form intelligible words.

“They sent me over here to let you out. I wasn’t expecting… I ain’t been to see you at all today, cher, or I would've… This shouldn’t have happened to you. You shouldn't've been left alone like this, little brother. It ain’t your fault.”

Not his fault? Dean found that hard to imagine. It was always his fault. He was the one with the slutty garbage hole, the sluttiest that any alpha had ever seen. He was the one with the cunt so hungry that it could never get enough of anything that alphas wanted to stuff inside it. If it really wasn't his fault, then his hole wouldn't have stretched so far and let them stuff him so full with so much trash.

“Give me a moment, cher. I’m gonna go get something to empty all this into. I’ll be quick, I promise. Just a moment.”

Dean didn't know how long the alpha was gone; his mind was still swimming, his thoughts fuzzy and turbulent and repetitive. And then the alpha was back, and Dean heard something like a bucket being set down on the dirt in front of the glory booth, and the gentle fingers were touching him again. This time, they went inside of him, pulling trash out of his garbage hole and dropping it into the container that the alpha had brought. Dean could hear the sounds: the rustle of damp napkins and crumpled food wrappers and the plop of half-eaten chicken fingers and hot dogs and drips of ketchup and mustard and soggy buns. It felt like it took forever, the pressure releasing so slowly from inside of him. When the alpha removed a handful of trash, the rest that had been compressed expanded to fill up the space that was left. It gave Dean the surreal impression that it would never end; that an infinite amount of garbage had been stuffed inside his hole and that the alpha would never be able to remove it all and would eventually have to give up and leave. 

The thought of that was horrible. Dean didn't want to be a garbage hole forever. He wanted to go back to school and take his math test and then go home and get a hug from Sammy and have his dad give him a bath.

“Sorry,” Dean heard himself whine as the alpha continued to empty the garbage. The kind hands paused.

“What on Earth are you apologizin’ for, cher?”

Dean didn't know how to explain himself. That he felt bad that such a kind alpha was being made to clean up garbage when he wasn't even a janitor or anything. That he felt ashamed that such a kind alpha was being made to touch something as gross as his garbage-packed cunt. That he felt sorry that such a kind alpha couldn't even use his hole properly, because Dean was being a trash can right now instead of a cocksleeve.

If he could speak, he would make sure that the alpha knew that he hadn't meant to be a trash can. That he really had no control over what his hungry cunt made alphas do to it. That if it were up to him, he'd much rather be a cocksleeve for the kind alpha to use than a garbage can that he had to empty.

Dean couldn't manage all of that, though. “Sorry. S-sorry,” he just repeated. “Sorry.” He really was starting to get empty, now. His stomach, which had been as taut and round as a soccer ball, had flattened to a soft mound that was still getting smaller with the alpha’s diligence. Now that Dean wasn't packed so full, the tears that had been caught in his chest began to trickle down his face, making his voice shake and his words sound wet. 

He didn't know why he was being such a baby. Didn’t know why he was acting so upset about this whole situation as if he wasn't the one with the slutty, stretchy garbage hole that had been so easy to mistake for a trash can.

“Oh, cher. Hush, now. You ain't got nothin’ to be sorry for.” The alpha paused his chore of emptying the trash and placed his warm palm over Dean’s stuffed cunt. The hand was big and the palm easily covered even Dean’s hugely gaping rim, and it felt so nice. The alpha’s thumb gently brushed over the exposed skin of his inner thigh, soothing in tiny circular movements. It was almost like the alpha really felt like he was touching a boy instead of a garbage hole. 

Dean couldn't help but choke out a sob, and the alpha made a sympathetic noise. 

“It’s alright, little brother. You can let go. Just let it out.”

The alpha left his palm there for a few moments, a warm and comforting touch, while Dean sobbed. The alpha could feel the young omega’s near-emptied hole shudder and clench around the mushy garbage that was still inside of it with each of Dean’s hitching breaths. 

Dean continued to cry while the alpha finally resumed his task. The garbage hole had been emptied enough that the alpha had to start to really reach his fingers deep inside towards where that first hot dog had been mashed into a disgusting mess of torn foil and squashed meat and stinging mustard and relish and onions and sloppy, wet bun.

“Look at that, little brother, I’m nearly done. Just a little bit more, but I've gotta put my whole hand inside to get to it. I'll be gentle, I promise.”

“You d-don't have to be,” Dean cried, because the alpha didn’t have to be. He really didn't. No one would care.

“I know I don't have to be, cher. I want to be.”

Dean’s garbage hole was so stretched out that the alpha’s big hand slipped right in past the rim almost without Dean noticing the difference. But the alpha’s hand and forearm were gentle, and warm, and moved inside him with such care that it made Dean start crying all over again. He felt blunt fingernails painlessly scrape his slick inner walls as the thick fingers scooped out the last of the garbage and let it plop out of him and into the bucket. When the alpha eased his hand slickly back out, Dean’s rim was so loose that it didn't even make a sound. Dean did, though. He sniffled and let out a helpless whimper at the absence of the warm, kind touch.

There was a splash of water pattering into the dirt, like the alpha was using a water bottle to wash off his hands. A moment later, Dean felt the press of something plastic up against his gaping hole, and then there was a rush of warmth as the alpha squeezed the sun-heated water from his water bottle into him to wash him out inside. Some of it pooled on the floor of his channel where the walls were lax and open, and Dean weakly tried to force it out by clenching; he managed to squirt out a weak trickle and a tiny, shameful sound. The alpha didn't laugh, though, and he tenderly wiped off the grime that was smeared around and dripping out of Dean's messy hole with a soft-feeling towel.

Then, the alpha's kind hands were back, gently stroking around the wrecked entrance. A few careful fingers slipped inside and smoothed along the slick inner walls like they were smoothing out the inside of a wet bowl of clay. He wasn't cleaning out Dean's garbage hole anymore, just touching it like it was something fragile and important. The young omega hiccupped and shuddered.

The alpha smoothed his big fingers so gently again inside him, making him tremble in his restraints. The movement tugged painfully at his stretched-taut shoulders and made his knuckles scrape against the plywood. Dean let out a helpless little mewl as his swollen cunt gulped around the warm fingers, trying somehow to pull them in deeper. The alpha withdrew his hands, however, with a soft chuckle that sounded affectionate instead of mocking. He petted the swollen, distended rim of Dean's sloppy gape with his flat palm a few times like he was comforting a playful kitten instead of a ruined omega hole.

“That’s it," the kind alpha's deep voice whispered. "You did so good, little brother. You’re a very good boy, aren't you?”

Dean felt his chest tighten and his face again crumple and he shook his head, even though the alpha couldn't see him since he was still locked inside the glory booth.

“No. Not a good b-boy.”

“Not a good boy?" The alpha didn't sound disappointed or angry; he still sounded kind. His hand was even still petting Dean's ruined hole. Dean wished that he really were just a cute, sweet little kitten instead of a disgusting, horrible slut, because then maybe everyone would want to pet him all soft and nice like this instead of wanting to punch-fuck and spank him. "I think you must be a good boy. What else could you possibly be?”

“Gross,” Dean whimpered like a confession. “B-bad.” A good boy wouldn't have been mistaken for a trash can.

Dean could hear the alpha stand and start walking away. The big warm kind gentle hand that had been petting him was gone. He began to tear up again, realizing that the alpha was finally too repulsed to be around him anymore, but then the footsteps just went around the side of the glory booth to the back where the padlock was keeping the plywood doors shut.

He heard the little key sliding into the small padlock and turn. It took a moment of jiggling before the alpha got the sticky lock to open, and then it was pulled off of the latch and the plywood doors swung open. Dean tilted his head back and blinked up at the tall alpha who was standing over him.

The alpha wasn't a grown-up like Dean had expected. He was one of the high school athletes, still wearing his track shirt over a pair of sweatpants and with a towel slung over his shoulder. He was broad-chested and he had kind eyes and a little bit of stubble. There were smears of sauce and other things on his track shirt from the garbage that he'd emptied out of Dean.

The older boy knelt down and began to undo the straps that were keeping Dean locked into place. His hands were gentle while they did that, too.

“I don't think you're right about that, cher,” the alpha boy said. “You can't be gross or bad. Just look at these wonderful, strong arms; these are good arms.” He unbuckled the wrist cuffs and Dean immediately struggled to curl his arms to his chest, feeling the stretch-strained muscles throb with horrible pain, and rubbed at his wrists. “And these lovely, long legs. I bet you can run real fast on them, and stand up real tall. These are very good legs.” The ankle cuffs came off next, and then the strap across his chest. The older boy helped Dean scoot back on the scratchy wooden bench, away from the glory hole cutout, and sit up.

“I dunno,” Dean sniffled, bringing his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them.

Before he could bury his face in his knees, the alpha boy reached out and caught him with a finger under his chin. He raised Dean’s face and turned it towards him, meeting his eyes with a kind smile. With his other hand, he stroked his thumb across Dean’s cheek, wiping away the sticky salt from his tears.

“And look at this. Oh, cher, what a sweet face. This is the face of a very, very good boy. I can tell.”

Dean sniffed and his lower lip wobbled, and the alpha boy’s thumb moved to swipe at it. The rough pad of his thumb stalled there, pressing softly a little bit into the boy’s sweet mouth. Dean parted his lips and allowed the thumb to enter him deeper, and he tentatively closed his lips around it and touched it with his tongue, tasting the alpha’s skin. He was transfixed by the kind smile on the older boy’s face and by the way he was touching Dean like he was precious.

But then, as he rolled his hips slightly, the loud and sickening squelch that sounded from his gaping cunt brought him back to reality.

His face and chest burning red, Dean pulled his mouth off of the boy's thumb and quickly ducked until he was hidden by his knees. At the same time, he lowered his hands to cup them over the trembling gape of his used-up garbage bag of a hole; he wasn't supposed to cover it, especially not in front of an alpha, but he just felt so ashamed. He held himself very still, terrified that if he moved his legs or hips again then his cunt would make another embarrassing noise and maybe even disgust the kind alpha so much that he'd go away.

“Gross,” Dean repeated. He didn't know why he was sounding like such a baby. Everything felt so light and fuzzy around him. Maybe this was what his teachers all talked about; what slick did to the omega brain. He couldn’t force any longer words or sentences out of his mouth, he just couldn’t. “I’m… gross. I’m sorry. Not a good boy. I’m bad.”

Not a bad boy; not even bad boys were worthless enough to get mistaken for garbage cans. So he wasn’t even… He was barely even a boy. He was just bad. 

“Sorry, sorry. Please. I’m gross. I’m sorry.”

The alpha boy moved, shifting away, and one of Dean’s hands shot out instinctually to grab onto the hem of his track shirt. Internally, he cringed – he was still being bad; the alpha boy wouldn't want his shirt further ruined by Dean’s touch – but instead of letting go he simply tightened his fingers.

“Oh, cher. Sweet little brother.” The alpha didn't knock Dean’s hand away or yank his shirt out of Dean’s grip; instead, he continued with his original intent, which was to rise to his feet and then, in one smooth movement, lift the younger boy into the air so that he could turn and sit down on the wooden bench himself with Dean’s naked body settled in his lap. “Cher, you're not gross. You're not bad. The people who did those things to you, who put those things inside you, they're the bad ones. You ain’t done nothin’ wrong.”

Dean threw his arms over the older boy’s shoulders and turned his face to hide it in the side of the alpha’s neck, nose buried near the alpha’s scent gland. He'd never scented another person like this that wasn't his dad or Sammy (or his mom when he was little). A part of him felt like he was betraying his family, but he was just. He just felt so. He just felt so hollow inside.

“My. My hole,” he whispered into the scratchy stubble under the alpha boy’s jaw. “It’s. Garbage hole. I’m. I’m slutty. That's me. I’m sorry.” The alpha boy deserved to know how slutty and bad Dean was so that he could decide if he still wanted to hold Dean so gently and treat him so nicely anyway.

Dad and Sammy always told Dean that him being such a slut was a wonderful thing, but Dean knew better. It didn't count when your family told you that, just like it didn't count when your mom told you that you were beautiful. Dad and Sammy were blinded by how much they loved him. He only had to look at how everyone else treated him to know what being a slut really meant.

“I’m sorry. I don't. Don’t mean to be so slutty.” Dean tightened his arms around the older boy’s neck even though a good boy would let the alpha go so that he could drop Dean down into the dirt and spit on him and walk away without looking back if he wanted to.

Dean felt the strong arms around him tighten and the alpha boy turned his head and kissed Dean’s hair. And his thumbs stroked Dean’s naked ribs. And then his big hands petted down the soft, pale skin of his waist until they settled warmly on his bare hips, cupping him with his fingers dimpling Dean’s backside. And the alpha boy’s touch was so soft and wouldn't leave bruises. 

He really was treating Dean like he was a boy and not a garbage can. Or even a cocksleeve. No one but Dad and Sammy had ever really done that before.

“You ain't got a… a garbage hole,” the alpha murmured into Dean’s hair. “You’ve got a perfect, sweet omega hole, and it's good. It's a good hole and it’s attached to a good boy. And it ain't your fault that other people decided to treat it like it was somethin’ it wasn’t.”

Dean started crying a little bit again, and his shoulders shook with little hitched breaths while the alpha boy shushed and comforted him.

“My name’s Benny,” the high school boy finally said, after a while. “What's yours, little brother?”

Dean swallowed and pulled back a little bit to wipe his teary cheeks on his arm. “Dean.”

“What a nice name. Here, Dean, I want you to drink this.”

He held up a plastic water bottle. Not the same one that he'd squirted into Dean’s garbage cunt, but an unopened screw-top disposable one. Benny unscrewed it himself and then held it to Dean’s lips and slowly tilted it up as Dean swallowed and swallowed. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he was. Dad always told him to drink whenever he could, since he lost so much to slick. And he'd made a lot of it today. Maybe more than he ever had in just one day before.

When the bottle was gone, Benny procured another from a pack that Dean hadn't even noticed set on the grass next to the glory booth. Benny ended up helping Dean drink four and a half bottles before Dean shook his head, not able to stomach any more.

“You feelin’ any better, cher?”

With an anxious flutter in his tummy, Dean nodded and pulled back away from Benny’s broad chest. He shifted on the older boy’s lap until he could get his legs on either side of Benny’s. Benny watched him curiously, hands holding his waist so that Dean wouldn’t fall. Dean squeezed his eyes closed and took a deep breath and then reached down to spread his hole for the alpha to see.

“Yes. Feelin’ better. Sorry. Didn't mean to… to cover it before. You can. You can use me. Thank you.”

He bowed his head and looked down and saw the state of his hole for the first time. It was gaping hugely just beneath his spent cock, the loosest it'd ever been. And swollen, the slack entrance reddened and puffy; it was saggy and looked sloppy-wrecked, unrecognizable as his own. Dean blinked. His lower lip wobbled and his eyes again flooded; it probably wasn't even really clean, yet. He should be washed out with hot, soapy water before the alpha puts his cock inside him – even though soap always stung so bad inside – but there wasn't any around.

“I’m sorry, it’s. No good. But you can…” Dean swallowed. “Put your fist inside. You can. Punch it. As hard as you want, I can take it. They. They did it earlier. So.” He glanced up, hoping that Benny would look pleased. But the alpha didn't look eager; he just looked sad. Apparently even the idea of being able to punch into it couldn't make his ruined hole appealing.

Dean miserably closed his eyes and pulled his used-up hole as wide open as he could, ignoring the soreness of the stretched rim and the hollowness in his chest to try to appeal to the nice older boy again. “Sorry. I know I’m. Real loose. So. So you can… you can put both hands. Both hands inside. No one’s ever done that before, but. But. I can do it. I can take it. You're so nice, I’ll be good. Good for you. You can use me. Thank you.”

He wasn't sure why he was bothering to offer himself, to give Benny permission that the alpha didn't need. The alpha could do whatever he wanted. But Dean just wanted Benny to know that he was okay with it and that he wanted to be a good boy for the alpha, a good boy just like he thought Dean was.

He kept his eyes shut tight and held his breath, waiting for the alpha to flip their positions again; for him to lay Dean back out on the bench or maybe put him on his hands and knees in the dirt so that the alpha could use the omega like he was made to be used. Even though he’d told Benny that he could be as rough as he wanted, Dean hoped that the older boy would be as gentle as he'd been when he was taking the garbage out of his packed cunt. He hoped that maybe he'd just fuck him with his fist like Sammy always did, instead of punching into him. He was so sore that he was pretty sure that being punch-fucked again would hurt, no matter how gentle the alpha was.

Dean felt Benny’s big hands settle over his own and couldn't help the full-body flinch that shook him as his stupid, trash can body tried to get away. He quickly steeled himself, though, and prepared for both of those big hands to press firmly into his abused omega hole.

But it didn't happen. The hands settled there, thumbs stroking soothingly over the slick edges of his taut rim and then rubbing over Dean’s trembling knuckles before gently pulling Dean’s hands away and allowing the slackened hole to relax and sag. Benny held Dean’s hands to his broad chest, where Dean could feel his strong heartbeat underneath his shaking palms.

“I don't mind that your sweet hole is so loose, cher; that don't make it any less good." Dean stared at the backs of his hands on the older boy's chest, at Benny's thumbs continuing to stroke over his knuckles. "But I don't need that from you, little brother. Not right now. You been used enough for one day. Just wanna hold you, if that's alright.”

And then Benny pulled him forward, settling him flush against his chest again, and wrapped Dean’s thin body in a big, warm hug. Dean hesitated, confused – he didn't know it was possible for him to be used enough for one day – but then settled into the comforting arms and tentatively wrapped his legs around the older boy’s waist. He could feel the gaping, dripping core of himself pressed, open, against the alpha’s track shirt, slickly mouthing at the fabric and the firm stomach underneath. It was probably getting the shirt even dirtier, but Benny didn't seem to mind.

Dean was so incredibly exhausted that he fell asleep like that. Probably not for very long, but he only came to awareness again – disoriented – to find himself moving through the air without his feet touching the ground. His legs still were wrapped tightly around Benny’s waist, and the older boy was carrying him with one arm under his shoulders and the other supporting him between his legs with his long fingers dipping just inside of Dean's swollen pink cunt.

“Welcome back, little brother,” Benny said warmly. “Just carryin’ you to my car. Unless you've got a ride?”

Dean curled his fingers into the older boy’s track shirt and tightened his legs a little. He could feel his cunt waking up and starting to loosely suck on Benny’s fingertips, a little slick seeping out to further stain the front of Benny’s shirt.

“They told me there'd be a bus. To take me back in time for math class. If I did a good job.”

Benny tightened his hold around the hurt omega, and when he spoke again, there was a controlled sort of edge to his voice; a sort of growl to it, like he was trying to contain a bit of protective alpha anger. Dad sounded like that sometimes when another alpha did something very abnormal or disrespectful to Dean’s body. It was weird to think of Benny getting like that over Dean, because he wasn't Benny’s property so there wasn't any reason for Benny to get mad about someone treating him badly.

“I see. Well… I think… The plans must've changed, somehow. ‘Cause they didn't send me to let you out until after four, cher, and the buses left at two-thirty.” He moved his thumbs in comforting circles on the omega’s naked skin. “School’s been over for a while, little brother. Almost everyone is gone for the day. The coaches all left.”

“Oh.” Dean pressed his sweet pink lips against the older boy’s collarbone and whispered into the tanned skin there, “I must not’ve done a very good job.” Maybe that was why. Why the first alpha boy had wanted to use him as a garbage hole. If he'd done a better job at being a cocksleeve, maybe then the alpha wouldn't have done that.

“That's not it, cher,” Benny assured him. “It was a very busy day and… And I'm sure that it had nothin’ to do with you. I can tell that you worked real hard. You did more than… You did a lot, you… I'm sure you did a real good job. You're such a good boy, little brother, you couldn't have done anything else.”

Dean wanted to believe Benny, just like he wanted to believe him that it wasn't Dean’s fault that he’d been a garbage hole, but it was hard to.

“I did work real hard,” Dean told him tearfully. “I really did. I tried my best.”

Benny nodded and breathed calm, controlled breaths. Dean could still feel his chest rumble with the growl that he'd swallowed, and the older boy’s arms were tight and protective around him, his fingers edging possessively further into Dean’s loosened hole and rubbing gentle reassurance. It hurt a little but it also felt nice because Benny was so kind and gentle, and because he was touching Dean like that because he thought Dean was a good boy and not a trash can or a cocksleeve.

The alpha boy carried Dean across the pavement of the parking lot until he reached an old, yet well cared-for truck, and then set Dean down to stand beside him barefoot while he unlocked the doors.

“I can sit in the truck bed,” Dean offered hesitantly. “So I. So my hole doesn't get your seat dirty.” He was still gaping so hugely, and the water that Benny had used to wash him out hadn't gotten everything. His slick was doing its best, but Dean was still so gross. No one should put a leaky garbage bag on the seat of their car.

But Benny raised his hand to set it in Dean’s soft hair. He ruffled the blond locks with affection, and he smiled a soft smile. “No, cher. You'll sit in the passenger seat right next to me. I don't mind if you get it dirty, little brother, but you can sit on my towel if it'll make you feel better.”

Dean ducked his head, yet felt himself lean into the older boy’s touch. Benny’s blunt fingernails scratched his scalp for a second – Dean leaned into the sensation and felt his eyes flutter with tentative pleasure – and then Benny opened the passenger door and spread his folded towel onto the seat before easily lifting Dean up and settling him onto it. Dean squirmed slightly, nervous to sit onto it fully lest he dirty the towel even more, but Benny put his heavy hand onto Dean's lap and wordlessly encouraged him to let himself relax.

Dean buckled his seat belt while the alpha walked around to get into the driver’s seat. When Benny had buckled his own seat belt and started the car, he looked over at Dean with a smile.

“Where to? I can take you back to your school, but the buses are already gone so you'd need to call for your Alpha to pick you up. I'd rather just take you on home, but it's up to you.”

Dean fidgeted, pressing his legs together – hearing his baggy cunt let out a sloppy little noise that Benny politely ignored – and covering himself with his hands in his lap. He felt suddenly shy, now that he was out of the glory booth and instead inside Benny’s truck. He was invading the alpha’s own personal space with a shameful, slutty body that had so recently been used as a trash can by hundreds of people; he didn't belong there in the passenger seat, but Benny wanted him there anyway.

“Home,” Dean nodded and bit his lip. “I can show you the way.”

As Benny pulled out of the parking lot, Dean admired the truck. It wasn't pristine, but it was in good condition and the paint job looked to be only a few years old.

“Your truck, um. It's an F-150. Is it a '95?”

Benny smiled and glanced over at him. “I know it's a Ford, at least. To tell you the truth, little brother, I don't know too much about cars, it's not really my thing. My ex-girlfriend’s father liked trucks, and he bought this for me back before I moved outta Louisiana when he still thought I'd be marryin’ his daughter.”

“Oh.” Dean bit his lip and looked out the window. “It’s… It’s a good model. Good year for it, too.”

Benny made an interested sound. “You a car guy, Dean?”

Dean ducked his head. “I like cars. I help my d- my Alpha in his shop sometimes. He's a mechanic.”

“That's real impressive, cher.”

Blushing, Dean rubbed his naked thighs together and fixed his eyes on his hands.

“If I wasn’t an omega,” he breathed, “I’d be a mechanic, too, when I grow up.” He glanced sideways at Benny to see if he thought that Dean was just being a silly, slick-for-brains omega, but Benny just returned his glance with a smile and then fixed his eyes back on the road.

“You sound like a cool guy to be around. Bet I could learn a lot from you.”

A warm feeling had started to fill him and replace the emptiness from earlier. Dean stared out the windshield with a hesitantly pleased smile and continued to direct Benny through the town to his home.

When Benny had finally delivered him to his house, he asked Dean to wait for a moment while he wrote something on a piece of paper. He handed the scrap to Dean, who took it with curiosity.

“That's my phone number. I'd like to see you again.”

The only numbers that Dean had in his phone were Dad’s and Uncle Bobby’s. Sammy didn't have a phone yet. No one else had ever wanted to give Dean their phone number before.

“You don't have to do that,” Dean assured Benny even as he held the scrap of paper like it was a piece of treasure. “You don’t… you don't have to talk to me again."

He could remember what the alpha man that had wanted to embed Dean's hole in his living room wall had said about not wanting to have to listen to something like Dean talk. He really wanted to see Benny again, but he didn't want to annoy Benny when the older boy wanted to finally use his hole.

"You can, you can just come to my school during my free use period. Whenever you want. High schoolers come on their lunch break sometimes, since. Since I have such a slutty hole and they wanna try it out.” Benny's hand reached over and landed gently on his upper thigh, and Dean continued, stammering. “I, I have free use period all day on Fridays. And. And during third period every day. And two more periods, but they rotate so. So everyone can get a chance. But. If you called the school, I bet they would tell you when I’m. In use. I’ll be real good for you, I promise.” He trembled a little when Benny's fingertips curled into his soft inner thigh. The older boy's pinky finger was so close to touching his soft cock. "Um. My, my hole tightens up. When I sleep. So it won't be... It'll be better next time. It'll be good. Real good for you."

Benny shook his head at Dean's rambling and smiled a little sadly, a little fondly. “I ain't tryin’ to get your number so I can use you, cher. I'm tryin' to be your friend.”

“Oh,” Dean breathed in awe, and clutched the precious slip of paper to his chest. He would put it under his pillow that night so that he wouldn't lose it, and save it in his phone first thing when he got his stuff back out of the cubby tomorrow.

“And Dean?” Benny asked.

“Yeah?”

“I want you to call me. Next time your school makes you do an event like that. I’ll come to it, too, and I'll find you right away and stay with you the whole time. To make sure that nothing like today ever happens again.”

—

When Dean stepped through the front door, he found both his dad and little brother in the living room. Dad was sitting in his big armchair reading his auto magazine, and Sam was kneeling on the rug in front of the TV sorting his Pokémon cards. At the sound of his entry, they both turned their heads to look at him, Dad setting aside his magazine and starting to stand and Sam nearly jumping straight to his feet. It was clear that they’d both been waiting for him.

At the sight of his family, Dean suddenly felt the weight of the day’s events fall back onto his shoulders like leaden weights. His legs were so shaky, and despite the nearly-five bottles of water that Benny had helped him drink he could feel the familiar ache of dehydration throbbing behind his eyes.

“Dean?” his dad asked, his welcoming smile instantly melting into concern at the sight of his son’s reddened eyes, trembling limbs, and nudity despite having left the house that morning in clothes. He was on his feet in a moment and quickly walked over to kneel in front of Dean, big hands brushing his blond hair out of his face before falling to settle on his hips. “Are you alright? Your principal called to let me know that you were staying a little late to help out at the high school. I’ve been waiting for you to call me to come pick you up. How did you get home? Where are your things?”

Dean opened his mouth and tried to speak, but couldn't force any words to come out. He felt kinda like he'd felt back when Benny was emptying his garbage hole and taking him out of the glory booth; like just the idea of making a sound was too exhausting to manage. 

Dad searched his face with concerned eyes, and when Dean sucked in a little breath and still couldn't utter a sound, he simply pulled Dean into a hug. 

Dean wrapped his skinny arms around his dad’s broad shoulders and buried his face into the crook of his neck. He could hear Sammy approach them and go around behind Dean, probably to try to hug him from the other side, but he heard his little brother falter and let out a small, upset noise. He'd probably seen some of the bruises peeking out from between Dean’s legs.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Dean tried to sink further into his dad’s embrace and clutched desperately at his Alpha’s shirt. He felt Sammy kneel down behind him, and a moment later two small hands were on either side of his butt. Gently, Sammy spread him open to see what was hidden from view.

“Dad?” Sam asked quietly, and Dean could feel his little fingers tentatively, delicately stroke the swollen, distended rim of his battered cunt. “Is Dean’s hole okay?”

“What?”

Despite Dean trying desperately to hold onto him, his dad pulled back and effortlessly spun him around and then pressed down on his lower back until he bent over. Sammy was right there in front of him, though, and Dean just wrapped his arms around his little brother and started scenting him instead while Dad parted his legs and spread him wide open.

He felt Dad’s fingertips trace over the bruised skin of his beaten and stretched omega hole. The touch was soft enough that it didn't hurt, but it made Dean shiver and flinch anyway.

He began to flush with embarrassment the longer Dad looked at the used hole. He couldn't imagine what his dad was thinking about the unsightly state of it; a ruined, dripping, gaping pink cavern surrounded by battered, reddened skin that was bruising purple from all of the spankings. And Dean was certain that his daddy could smell the lingering scent of garbage and the cum of too many alpha strangers to count. 

He tightened his arms around his little alpha brother, and Sammy fiercely returned the hug and rubbed his hands up and down his big brother's back. Dad remained quiet for a long while, gingerly fingering the distended swell of Dean’s slick-sloppy rim; perhaps checking it for injury. Dean could smell his father’s scent coloring, protective and possessive.

Finally, the alpha shifted forwards and his warm hands went around Dean’s bent waist, straightening him.

“C’mere, baby,” Dad whispered tenderly, and Dean was lifted up and cradled in his father’s strong, protective arms. Dad carried Dean upstairs to the master bathroom and then sat him gently down into the bathtub and reached to turn on the faucet. 

“Wait!” Dean finally managed to speak. He held up the hand that clutched his precious paper from Benny. “Please. Don't get it wet.” 

“What is it?” Dad asked him, carefully taking the paper from his hand and glancing at the numbers written on it. “Someone’s phone number?”

“Benny,” Dean whispered. “He was. So nice. He said he. Wants to be my friend.” He inhaled a shuddery breath as his father took the paper scrap and tucked it into the frame of the bathroom mirror, safe and out of the way. “He. He took care of me. Drove me home.” His dad turned on the water and held his hand under the stream to gauge the temperature as it began to heat. “And he. Didn't punch-fuck me like the others. Not even just a little bit. Even though I said he could.” Dad hummed a little in acknowledgement, keeping his face comforting, though Dean saw his jaw tighten at Dean's words.

Dean ducked his head and darted his eyes down to the corner of the bathroom so he wouldn't see his dad’s reaction to what he had to say next, and then whispered, “He said I'd been used enough for one day.”

“He sounds like a good friend,” Dad said softly in response, and reached out to cup Dean’s freckled cheek in his palm. “He was right. I can tell you worked really hard today, Dean. Harder than you should've had to. You did a good job. You did enough. More than enough.” He smiled the same smile he wore whenever he was remembering Mom as he soaked in Dean’s surprised expression and wide, dazzled eyes.

Nearly dizzy with the wonder of it – of finding out that it really was possible for him to be used enough in one day, of even his Alpha saying so – Dean’s eyes fluttered closed in something like amazement and the young omega leaned into the warm touch on his face, nuzzling into his dad’s hand. Dad let him continue to nose into his warm palm until the water had heated to a satisfying temperature.

Then, his dad redirected the flow from the bathtub faucet to the handheld shower head. Dad used it to tenderly rinse the sweat off of Dean’s shivering body and the residue of his slick omega cum off of his tummy. He lathered up honey-scented soap in his hands and rubbed them oh-so-gently down his son’s chest and back and limbs, pausing at the bands of bruises around Dean’s wrists and ankles and the reddened scuffs on his knuckles to bend down and kiss them. 

When he got to between Dean’s legs, Dad was even more careful; he washed the beaten outsides with feather-light fingers. When the hot swell of his battered entrance and the bruised skin surrounding it were clean, he then turned the flow of the shower head down until it was as gentle as a light rainfall. He helped Dean hike up his legs and tilt his hips, and then he slipped the smooth, rounded shower head past Dean’s loose entrance until it had settled deep inside him.

Dean’s toes curled and he let out a little mewl, his cunt weakly clutching around the shower head and beginning to unconsciously milk it as if it was a massive knot. It was a strange feeling, clenching around something that was filling him up with water at the same time and feeling it flow back out of him in an endless stream. This was the first time Dad had ever cleaned Dean like this, but it was also the first time that Dean's insides had gotten so dirty.

His dad rubbed his free hand in circles on Dean's chest to distract him while the alpha focused on watching the water flush out little scraps of things. He didn't comment on anything that washed out of his son so as not to embarrass him, and Dean was very grateful. The water was just warm enough to be comfortable instead of scalding like Dean thought it should be, and Dad didn't even try to put any soap inside, but his Alpha seemed to think that it was good enough and his Alpha was always right.

When the water was finally flowing out clear and clean, Dad gently pulled the shower head back out. The movement of the object passing over and out of his rim caused Dean to let out a little squeak and a quiet moan, hips stuttering a bit and his well-spent cock twitching just slightly. Dean worried for a moment that his reaction might mean that he really hadn't been used enough; that his body really was just so slutty that despite everything that it had been given today it should still take more. But, to his relief, Dad didn't seem to think so. He just smiled and shook his head fondly at the sensitivity of his son's used-up hole, and turned off the water. Then, he leaned forward, cupped the back of Dean’s head, and pressed his lips chastely to Dean’s forehead.

The alpha left his lips there for a long time, just feeling his boy’s forehead against his mouth and breathing in the scent of Dean’s hair. 

“Sweetheart,” Dean felt Dad murmur against the flushed skin of his forehead. “You're amazing, you know that? Do you know how strong you are?” Dean felt his body tremble as he absorbed the words like they were the sweetest nectar.

He finally pulled away and let Dean continue to sit in the tub while he put back the shower head, changed the route of the flow back to the faucet, and drew a bubble bath. Sam came up to the bathroom carrying a tray just as Dad turned off the water. He brought the tray over to Dean, looking a bit nervous; when he held it out, Dean found that his brother had carefully made Dean peanut butter crackers and arranged them on a plate with some apple slices and cookies.

Dad smiled at Sammy and reached out to pick up a cracker and bring it to Dean’s mouth to help him eat. When Dean was done with the food and the bath, he was again lifted into his father’s arms and then laid out on the alpha’s big bed and dried with a fluffy towel. He was then tucked under the covers of Dad’s bed and an extra, fuzzy blanket was put on top of him. 

“I want you to rest, kiddo. You've had a long day. Don't worry about school or homework, baby; I'm going to call you out sick for the rest of the week, okay?”

Dean could hardly believe what he had heard. “But what about Friday?” he asked hesitantly, even though the very thought of the alpha boys at school having access to his bruised and battered cunt for a whole day made him shudder and tighten the blankets around himself. Even if his hole tightened all the way back by then, the bruises would still be there and they'd hurt.

“They can make do.”

“But… my stuff. My backpack and my phone. They're still in my cubby in the omega use room.”

“I'll drop by tomorrow on my way to work and get them for you. You don't need to worry about that. You just need to rest up and get better, okay, sweetheart?”

Dean couldn't help the tiny smile that graced his face as he snuggled deeper under the covers and breathed in the comforting scent of his father, which permeated the bedding and surrounded him completely in a way that made him feel safe and protected. Dad left the bedroom for a few minutes and then returned holding a DVD case. Through half-closed eyes, Dean watched him turn on the bedroom TV and put in the disc. It was Dean’s favorite Scooby-Doo movie.

His chest didn't feel all hollow and empty inside anymore. The feeling was still there, a little bit, but love and gratitude had filled him up enough that he could almost ignore it.

Dean felt the bed shift and turned slightly to see Sammy, dressed in his pajamas, climbing in beside him. His little alpha brother squirmed until he was under Dean’s arm, face nearly buried in his armpit, one hand tucked at his side. The other was on Dean’s naked chest, absent-mindedly soothing himself by playing with Dean’s nipples. A second later, Dad joined them on Dean's other side. He put his arm around both of his sons and held them; Dean squished so warmly and lovingly between his two favorite people. 

Dad’s arms tightened around them and his other hand came up to brush his thumb along the arc of Dean’s soft cheekbone. His hand soon drifted to lovingly rub his thumb against Dean’s scent gland, and Dean happily bared his neck for it and hummed with tired pleasure. Dad wanted to smell like him, even though he'd spent the day as a garbage hole. Sammy wanted to touch him, even though his cunt was too beaten up to play with. And Benny’s phone number was still tucked in the mirror frame, and Dad would get Dean’s phone tomorrow so that Dean could save the number and maybe text his new friend for the first time.

He was surrounded by his family. And they watched Scooby-Doo. And Dean felt safe and loved when he finally drifted off to sleep.

Chapter 10: High School Track Meet (Bonus Part): Coach Brady

Brady got the key to the glory booth from Davis around two o’clock so that he could go get the little cocksleeve in time for the bus. It had already been decided, as part of the loan arrangement, that the omega would be released a bit prior to the end of the track meet so that he could bus home with the eighth grade varsity team… Which meant that it had always been the plan that he would be back in time for seventh period, but the little fucktoy needn’t know that.

A spring in his step, Brady spun the key around his finger on its cord as he walked across the track towards the concession stand and glory booth, eager to see the state that the omega’s hole would be in. Brady was certain that this was probably the heaviest use that the young fucktoy had ever seen in one day; he'd heard whispers from attendees and athletes alike that were enough to have had him perpetually half-hard in his pants for the last few hours.

Typically, not every alpha used the complimentary omega holes that were offered at events like these. Alphas didn't need daily exposure to slick to prevent their ruts, so those that had recently used an omega – or had an omega at home – often preferred to occupy their time socializing or actually watching the event. But Brady’s favorite omega fucktoy was special, and word of mouth had traveled fast; shortly into the day, every alpha in attendance had known that the glory booth housed an omega hole unlike any other, and every one of them had wanted a taste.

From what Brady had been hearing, not only had almost every alpha present opted to use the slutty omega hole on offer, but many had decided to return for seconds or even thirds. As a result, the little slut’s one tiny pink cunt had likely seen the combined foot traffic typical of not merely two omegas, but three. Maybe even four. And Brady'd heard that many of them hadn't just been fucking that little hole with their knotted cocks, but with their fists.

He couldn't wait to see the state of that used-up fucktoy's slutty hole.

When the red-painted glory booth was in sight, Brady felt his cock twitch in his pants. His eyes landed instantly on that little cut-out in the wood, eager to see the dripping blackness within the gaping pink rim that had grown so familiar to Brady over the course of his free use monitoring.

But that wasn't what he saw, because someone had plugged it up with trash.

Brady went from a hopeful chub to achingly hard in two seconds flat; he actually had to reach down and squeeze hard around the base of his dick to keep from coming in his pants. Fuck.

He’d been eager to let the little fucktoy out of the glory booth and tease him; maybe shame him for how used-up his little cunt had gotten, demand that he describe to Brady what his hole had done for all the alphas that had used him. He'd prepared for how he'd listen, the serious and deliberating expressions that he'd make as he pretended to judge whether or not that precious little fucktoy had been a good enough cocksleeve to be allowed back onto the bus. 

But this? This, he hadn't prepared for. And this was so much better.

Brady quickly looked around the area. The nearby concession stand was closed and shuttered, and it was near enough the end of the event that every alpha that wanted to had already used the omega hole. Everyone still present was watching the finishing races. No one would see.

Breathing heavily, Brady opened his pants and pulled out his hard cock. He let out a quiet hiss through clenched teeth as he felt his hands directly on his hot, hard flesh. His cock was nothing to scoff at: well-endowed, his erection even threatened some alphas' after their knots had formed. He wanted so badly to ram it right into that pathetic garbage hole alongside the trash that was already stuffed inside, but he held himself back. There was no telling who might come by any minute, and Brady really didn't want someone to tattle and cause him to lose his position as free use monitor.

So instead, Brady jacked himself off to the sight of that pretty little fucktoy’s hole laxly stretched around its small clutch of garbage. As he was nearing his peak, he remembered that he had a candy wrapper in his pocket that he'd used to wrap up his chewed gum; with a hand that was shaking with the strength of his arousal, he pulled it out and then reached forward to tuck it into that stretchy little cunt. His finger slid inside just a little bit as he pushed the trash in, and for the very first time he actually felt the slick pinkness of those silky inner walls. The hot, slippery feeling of the sweet flesh sliding along his finger pushed him over the edge, and he came in hot ropes, splashing across the trash and then adjusting to aim his load across the exposed skin. He watched the bruised inner thighs and swollen rim twitch at the sensation, and imagining the look of shame in the pretty green eyes of the fucktoy inside the glory booth made him see stars as he managed one final spurt.

Breathing deeply, Brady tucked himself back into his pants before raising the hand he'd used to insert the candy wrapper with to his face. He sniffed his slick-wet finger. He wasn't sure what exactly alphas found so craze-inducing about omega slick; he had alpha buddies who talked about it like it was honey or nectar or goddamn liquid gold, but to Brady, it just smelled kind of musky. A little different than what came from a beta bitch's pussy, but not by much.

The smell of the little fucktoy’s slick wasn't new to him: Brady had put his nose up close to that gaping cunt after its free use period plenty of times and gotten enough whiffs that he was confident he'd be able to pick Dean Winchester’s slick-scent out of some sort of porny lineup. But it was different, now, with the sense memory of how that hot channel had felt sliding along his skin. It might not smell like fairy dust – or really all that good, even – but it did smell fucking sexy.

Brady stared down at the poor little garbage hole and wondered how many more people would use it like a trash can if he just left it there instead of letting it out of the glory booth. He grinned, and then took out his phone and took a picture of the helpless cunt loosely clutching around the empty chips bags and half-eaten food, dripping with his own cum. Just as he snapped the photo, a fly buzzed into the frame, and then a couple more; they landed on the reddened skin of the stretched rim and Brady felt his spent dick give another valiant twitch. He took a couple more photos with the flies in shot.

With a renewed spring in his step, the middle school coach turned and walked away back towards the track. Davis was busy on the field, so Brady ducked into the high school for a minute and put the key to the glory booth carefully on the man’s office desk. Then, he went to meet his students in the parking lot and guided them into the waiting bus.

“It was a very busy day and they needed to keep Winchester for a bit longer,” Brady told Principal Andrews when they had returned to the middle school. “They asked that you call his Alpha to let him know that he might be home a little late. He's been doing a stellar job.”

The beta woman sighed. “They owe me for this,” he heard her mutter to herself as she picked up her phone while Brady excused himself from her office.

He made his way to his own office behind the gymnasium and sat heavily in his chair, kicking up his legs to prop his feet on top of his desk. He pulled his desk phone off of its cradle and dialed Davis’s cell.

“Hello?”

“Davis, it's Brady. Just wanted to let you know that I went to let that omega hole out of the booth, but there was still a line waiting to use it,” Brady lied. “I didn't want to cause an uproar. So I figured it'd be better to leave it until the crowds had cleared. I returned the key to your desk.”

Davis cursed. “I don't have time for this,” he hissed over the phone. “I'm tied up until at least three-thirty, and then I have to oversee the visiting teams while they leave. I can't spare a second to clean up and untie it, let alone find someone to take it back to the middle school.”

“Hey, man, I’m sorry,” Brady apologized, making sure to sound genuine. “I really thought I was doing you a favor. You don't have to worry about letting it out anytime soon, there's no rush.” God, he hoped Davis wouldn’t rush. He wanted the little fucktoy to lie there all packed full of garbage like that for as long as possible. “The principal’s already contacted its Alpha to let him know that his omega will be home a bit late.”

“Alright,” Davis muttered. “Alright, I guess I can ask my team captain to stay late and go let it out when he’s done with the post-meet pep talk. Probably won't be until four-fifteen at the earliest.”

“That'll be fine,” Brady said. God, that'd be perfect. The crowds would keep filling that little fucktoy up with garbage for almost two fucking hours. He muffled a moan and palmed at his cock; enough time had passed since his orgasm that it was fattening up again. “I appreciate the help, and sorry for the misunderstanding.”

“Sure,” Davis said curtly. “Just don't let it happen again.” 

The alpha hung up, and Brady bit back a chuckle before pulling his own cell phone out of his pocket and opening his photos. He stared at the pictures that he’d taken of his favorite sex toy’s exposed omega hole being used as a trash bag: at the stripes of his own cum across the visible garbage and the toy's battered inner thighs, at the fucking flies crawling across that battered skin… God. Fuck. The fucktoy's pretty little body was locked up inside the glory booth like his hole was the only part of him that mattered, and even that part of him was nothing more than a sloppy, worthless garbage receptacle.

As Brady leisurely jacked himself off again, he wondered how much trash would get stuffed into the fucktoy’s used-up cunt before the day was over.

—

Brady’s favorite album in his photos app was one that, for the most part, contained just a series of before-and-after shots of Dean’s slutty little cunt. He took one every time he monitored the young omega, one each at the beginning and end of the fucktoy’s free use periods while Dean was strapped down to the bench. The beta man had started taking them after the very first time he’d monitored Dean’s free use; Brady had monitored about thirty different omegas during their free use period over the nearly eleven years that he’d been working at the middle school, but none of them had ever caught his eye quite the way that Dean Winchester had.

There was something about Dean that attracted Brady. It was like a higher power, a sort of magnetism, that drew his eyes and made his fingers itch to reach out and touch. Something that made his tongue crave to taste that creamy expanse of smooth, freckled skin. That made his teeth hunger to bite the soft curves and hard angles of muscle and fat and bone. That made his dick strain to penetrate and fill every empty space in that reluctantly accommodating body. 

It was something about the contradiction between the fucktoy’s impossibly slick, stretchy, slutty hole and the innocence that glowed bright as a beacon in those devastatingly green eyes. Brady knew that he wasn’t the only one affected by it; as the permanent third period free use monitor, he saw the same powerful magnetism drive students and staff and fucking school board members to do things to that special omega hole that he’d never seen done to a person before. And Dean just took it. And took it. And took it.

Brady couldn’t help but think that he must be the luckiest man in the world to be employed at this school and to have been assigned that particular free use period to monitor. To get to see the daily transformation of that one-of-a-kind omega’s pure and delicate, almost virginal-looking pink hole into an obscene, stretched-out, slick-slobbering reddened mess. 

And thank god for modern technology and high-definition cell phone cameras.

Because, god, fuck, that photo album… Sometimes, just thinking about scrolling through it was enough to make him hard. The omega didn't even know that he took those photos (Brady's camera shutter noise was muted to make sure of that). Dean didn’t know about the hundreds of pictures of his poor, shamefully used-up hole winking wet and pink between those splayed, immobilized legs. Didn't know that they were stored on his school monitor’s phone and backed up on his laptop and in the cloud. Didn’t know that Brady jacked off to them daily.

Didn't know that Brady shared them online.

The photos weren’t just of Dean’s slutty little cunt, though. The album was also sprinkled with photos of the omega’s face. Those photos were less frequent because Brady only took them when the fucktoy’s eyes were closed and he knew that he could get away with it unnoticed, but god; even more than the before-and-after shots of that tiny little cunt getting stretched into a soaking, swollen gape, it was the face shots that got Brady hard as steel. It was the delicate way that those freckled cheeks and fragile ears blushed scarlet; the plush, sugar-sweet lips that the fucktoy loved to chew and bite down on to muffle his adorable little whimpers and moans; the cute little upturned furrow of his eyebrows; the breathtaking vision of his tear-clumped eyelashes and wet cheeks. 

One day, Brady was certain that he would take a photo of Dean while he was looking straight into the camera. He would capture the devastation in those startlingly green eyes while they shone with tears. Maybe he'd get a full body shot with those innocent eyes fixed on him, that bee-stung lower lip bitten nervously between his front teeth, and that little pink cunt spread wide open by the fucktoy’s own slender fingers to show off the dark, gaping depths of his slick core to Brady’s camera.

If the little fucktoy really didn't want to get ravaged so much, then he shouldn't look so fucking beautiful getting ravaged.

Chapter 11: A Day at the Park (Part 1): The Playground

It was a surprisingly hot day that Saturday, and John decided that it was the perfect day for a visit to the park. It would be good to spend some time with his boys and let them get some fresh air and exercise.

“It’s really hot out,” he reminded his sons, “So dress in your summer clothes.” When Dean pouted and dragged his feet as he went to put his clothes on, John gave him a playful little swat on his naked rear to remind him not to lollygag.

“I can wear pants, it’s not that hot,” Dean sulked.

“It's over eighty degrees outside,” John told him sternly. “And I don't want to hear you complain about how uncomfy your pants are after you soak them through with sweat and slick.”

“I won't complain, I promise!”

“Come on, sweetheart. Give your ol’ dad a break.”

Dean reluctantly heaved a sigh and then climbed the stairs to follow his brother into their bedroom and get dressed for the day.

Sam bounced back down the steps in a Looney Toons tank-top and his breezy soccer shorts. Shortly afterwards, Dean descended wearing his slightly baggy Incredible Hulk T-shirt over a plain black tennis skirt.

Dean was a bit of a boy’s boy and didn't like wearing girly clothes. John didn't care either way; he wasn't the kind of Alpha who didn't let his omega pick out its own clothing, and besides, his son looked cute no matter what he wore. So Dean shopped for his shirts in the regular boy’s section with Sam, and picked out his own boyish omega pants and knee-length omega cargo shorts when they shopped at the omega supply stores. Most omega clothes tended to be tighter and more feminine and revealing, but they did make options that were more Dean’s style, even if he and John had to dig through the store to find them. 

Unfortunately, however, when it came to hot-weather clothes, omega outfitters really didn't make light-weight shorts for omegas. Skirts and little skin-tight, crotch-less yoga shorts that barely covered his ass were about the only options that Dean had, and despite how much Dean disliked wearing skirts, he hated the tiny, revealing shorts even more. The tennis skirt, at least, went down to mid-thigh, so his public parts were only visible when someone lifted the hem.

John did feel bad that Dean didn't like wearing his skirts, which was why he only pressed his omega son to wear one on days like today where the weather and activity made it the most practical decision. Despite his slight guilt and Dean’s little scowl, though, John did think that his young omega looked very cute in the simple black skirt. The pleats and flare somehow went sweetly with the rest of his boyish appearance: his short hair, straight-figured body, too-big superhero T-shirt, and the ratty tennis shoes that he slipped on. 

John smiled at his moody eldest son. He reached down and affectionately ruffled his dark blond hair to let him know that he was pleased with him. John was truthfully a little happy that the weather was warm enough to justify having his son wear this outfit; there was just something special about flipping up the hem of Dean’s skirt to access his slutty little hole compared to entering it through the gap in a pair of his omega pants. 

Maybe it was just more fun; Sam certainly seemed to think so. As they left the house and headed to the car, the little alpha followed along behind his big brother, happily playing with Dean’s skirt and repeatedly baring his butt while Dean kept snapping at him with annoyance and smoothing it back down with both hands to cover himself.

“Sammy, don't be a brat,” John chided his youngest. “Stop messing with your brother. I only want to see you lifting up his skirt if you're gonna put something in his hole, got it?”

“Okay, Dad,” Sam pouted, but he left Dean’s skirt alone after that.

After loading his children into the car along with a cooler and some outdoor toys, John drove Sam and Dean to the park across town. There were a few closer to home, but if they were making a day of it, John wanted to go to the best park. 

The park had an official name – Lawrence City Park, or something like that – but John affectionately called it the Duck Park. He always had, ever since Mary had given it that name thanks to the abundance of ducks that called it home. There was a generous playground that consisted of a few jungle gyms, a swing set, a sandbox, and even an old seesaw and merry-go-round. There were also wide open swathes of green grass to play catch or tag in, a few good climbing trees, a softball field, and a lake with a walking path around it. There was even a small dock and boathouse where people could rent paddle boats for an hour or two, usually with a food truck and ice cream cart parked nearby.

It seemed that John’s idea for a day at the park wasn't a unique one, and the playground and grass were already teeming with families enjoying the day outside when John pulled the Impala into the parking lot.

“Can we do the jungle gym first, Dad?” Sam asked excitedly as he started to unbuckle his seat belt even before John had finished parking. They always did at least one circuit around the lake when they came to this park, and he was asking if they could do that last today.

“Sure, Sammy, you and Dean can play on the playground for a while. I'll find a seat somewhere if you need me.” 

With a cheer, Sam opened the door and hopped out onto the pavement to run towards the monkey bars. Dean was sitting slumped against the car door and staring out the window at the crowd with a little trepidation. 

John shifted and reached his arm over the back of the bench to rest his hand on Dean’s knobby knee. When his son turned his face to look at him, John gave him an encouraging smile. 

“I'll be keeping an eye out, bud, but if you need me, just yell. Okay?”

On a day like today with the park so crowded and Dean wearing a skirt, it was pretty likely that some of the many beta kids on the playground would try to touch him between his legs. John was always mindful of this and had plenty of experience scaring off touchy young betas and giving their parents a piece of his mind about how to teach their children to keep their hands off other people’s property.

Dean still looked a little unhappy and awkward about his outfit, but he met his Alpha's eyes and nodded. “Okay.”

John patted his leg and then opened his own door and got out. Dean followed, and then John shooed him off to play with Sam while he got his folding chair out of the trunk and a beer out of his cooler. He set up his chair in the shade of a tree near the playground and watched his kids play with a relaxed smile. Sam was all over the monkey bars, swinging effortlessly across them before moving on to the ladders, slides, and crawl spaces of the rest of the jungle gym. Dean watched from the ground, eyes following his younger brother's fun wistfully as he gathered enough confidence to join in. His hands were nervously fiddling with the hem of his T-shirt, probably insecure about being dressed too girly and hesitant to participate in any activity that could make it easy for someone to look up his skirt. John wished that his son had a little more self-confidence. At this age, he shouldn't be so insecure about his public parts being exposed.

“Dean! Come do the slide with me!” Sam eventually called down from the top of the jungle gym. John was glad that Sam had realized that his brother was hesitating; he wanted Dean to have fun today, and Sam could always convince his big brother to push past his discomfort for him.

“Okay, Sammy, I’m coming,” Dean called up in answer, and Sam beamed down at him as he started to climb up.

As the boys played, the sun continued to rise. The other kids started to notice the omega that was in their midst, and John watched as a group of them made a game of surreptitiously following along behind Dean until he bent over or climbed something and allowed them to get a clear view of his slick pink cunt under his skirt. As soon as one of them got their first eyeful, they turned around to exchange high-fives and then let someone else have a turn. Dean didn't seem to notice the attention he was getting, too laser-focused on watching out for Sam and making his little brother laugh. The beta kids weren't trying to touch him, anyway, so it was pretty harmless; John let himself chuckle into the neck of his bottle and roll his eyes at the childish antics.

About forty minutes in, one of the handful of other alpha fathers on the sidelines approached the jungle gym. Dean had relaxed enough that he was finally grinning fully as he watched Sam get ready to go down the slide, but when his nose twitched and he turned to see the alpha approaching, his smile dropped into a resigned expression.

The alpha gestured for Dean to come towards the metal bars of the side of the jungle gym, and Dean did as he was requested. After exchanging a few quiet words, Dean lifted up the front of his cute skirt to show the stranger his soft penis. John narrowed his eyes, but the strange alpha didn't try to reach out and touch it, just nodded appreciatively and then motioned for Dean to spin around and bend over.

On the alpha’s command, Dean flipped up the back of his skirt and then pressed his butt up against the bars until two of them perfectly framed his little omega hole. The alpha reached up to stroke the soft skin of Dean’s thighs and then slid his thumbs past the boy’s nervously twitching entrance; neither John nor Sam had used Dean that morning, so he was tight and barely wet. The alpha thrust his thumbs alternately in and out a few times, stirring up Dean’s insides until slick started to well up and drip out of his hungry cunt. 

A small crowd of children had gathered on the ground around the alpha father and were gazing up with interest at where he was now pumping his fingers in and out of Dean’s hole. Sam, who had been waiting at the bottom of the slide for Dean to follow, finally noticed what was holding Dean up. He raced back up to the part of the jungle gym where Dean was still standing, bent over and legs trembling as his sweet little hole was played with by someone else’s dad. When Sam reached him, he stroked his hand down Dean’s back a few times and then leaned over to kiss his big brother’s cheek. 

“You’re doing a good job,” John could just make out Sam’s voice say to Dean as he was used. Sam had been extra sweet to his big omega brother since Dean’s hole had been wrecked at the high school event. “Want me to stay?”

Dean gazed into his little brother’s slanted, hazel eyes, his own green eyes shining and bright. After a moment, he shook his head.

“No, Sammy, it's alright. You can keep – nnh! – playing. I’m, ah, I’m okay.”

Sam smiled and petted Dean’s hair a few times before pressing another closed-mouth kiss to his temple. Dean leaned into it a bit as Sam turned around to run off and continue his fun, leaving Dean to get finger-fucked through the bars of the jungle gym until the alpha was satisfied.

For the next hour or so, Sam continued to play. Dean shakily rejoined his brother after a little while, cheeks flushed and inner thighs wet. Two other alpha fathers approached him while he was playing; the first one merely had him lift up his skirt so that the man could reach down and wiggle his fingers inside Dean’s pink cunt for a few seconds – just a little slick refresher, not uncommon – but the other one put his hand around the back of Dean’s neck and wordlessly pushed him over to the sandbox where the man’s young alpha son was playing. He forced Dean to his hands and knees in the sand and then flipped up the back of Dean’s skirt and showed his curious son Dean’s glistening, used hole.

John sighed to himself and stood up from his chair onto his feet; this looked like a scene that he ought to supervise. He made his way across the playground over to the far side where the sandbox was. Dean was staring straight down at where his fingers were curling in the sand while the alpha father educated his alpha son.

“Do you remember what we talked about this week? About what an omega hole is?”

“A toy for alphas,” the little boy said with a wide-eyed nod.

“That's right. And this thing right here is an omega hole. I told you I'd show you the next one I found in real life, didn't I?”

The little boy’s eyes traveled across Dean’s body, from the toes of his tennis shoes digging into the sand to the fair hair on his bowed head.

“But Daddy, that's a boy,” he said in his high little voice with a note of uncertainty. His alpha father shook his head.

“No, it's an omega hole. It looks like a boy, but it’s really just a thing for alphas to use. Lean in and smell it; that doesn't smell like the alpha or beta boys you know, does it?”

John could see Dean squeeze his eyes shut against the strange alpha’s harsh words and his fingers clench in the sand. John felt a pang in his own chest. 

The little alpha leaned forward and cautiously sniffed Dean’s exposed skin, and then shook his head. 

“Smells diff’rent.”

“Right. It smells like an omega hole. Go ahead, Mikey, touch it. That's what alphas do; that's what it's made for.”

The little boy looked nervous. He twisted up his tiny hands in the front of his overalls, glanced between his father and Dean’s spread legs, and then finally started to reach out.

John paid careful attention to the boy’s little fingers to make sure that they didn't go for anything other than Dean’s omega hole. The little alpha gingerly poked and prodded around the mouth of Dean’s hole with his tiny pointer finger, and John watched as Dean kept his entrance carefully relaxed even as the man that was holding him dug his big fingers harder into the flesh of his spread cheeks. 

The embarrassed cunt was still slick from the previous men and it glistened wetly under the young alpha’s attention. The little boy inserted his finger into the still-tight hole, and at the feeling of someone feeding his hungry little cunt, Dean couldn't keep it from clenching down. The young alpha jumped at the sensation and immediately pulled his hand back to his chest.

“Can it feel that?” he asked, sounding shocked. 

His father laughed. “Of course it can.”

“I thought… Um, I thought it was a toy.”

“It is a toy, but it's alive.”

“Can it hear me?” the little boy whispered.

“Yes, omega holes can hear and see and talk, as long as their Alphas haven't taken those privileges away,” his father informed him. “It doesn't matter, though, Mikey. You can do whatever you want to it. I know it really seems like a boy, but this omega hole really is just a toy for you and other alphas to play with. That's the only thing it was made for.”

John couldn't listen to this ignorant alpha talk about Dean that way any longer. Dean’s omega hole may have been made for alpha pleasure, but he was so much more than just his omega hole. This man was speaking as if the rest of Dean’s body and his mind didn't even exist. 

John advanced towards the sandbox and cleared his throat. The other man and his son both looked up at him, while Dean kept his head hanging between his shoulders.

“Sorry, do you mind?” The other alpha asked. “I’m educating my son right now. If you want to use this hole, can you wait somewhere else until we're done with it?”

“Actually, this omega is my son,” John retorted. At the sound of his voice, Dean lifted his head and blinked up at him dazedly. “And if you're using my boy’s hole, I’m entitled to stay right here and watch over him.”

The other man looked a bit taken aback by John’s attitude, and stared up at him with his mouth hanging open like an idiot for a few moments before swallowing. His little alpha son had inched closer to his dad, reacting with caution and anxiety to the protective scent that John was exuding.

“Oh,” the man finally said. “Yes, of course.”

“Alpha?” Dean asked softly, and John made his expression and scent both soften. He crouched down and put his hand out to thumb Dean’s flushed cheek.

“I'm right here, sweetheart.” He brushed the pad of his thumb across the freckles beneath Dean’s shining eye. Glancing back up at the other alpha father, he raised his eyebrows challengingly. “Has he been a good boy for you?” he asked, emphasizing the he and boy.

Clearly uncomfortable, the alpha submitted to John’s dominance.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“He always is. My sweet boy is the very best.” He continued to caress his son’s face – Dean nuzzling into the warm palm of his hand – and turned to look at the little alpha boy. “He’s a wonderful son and a terrific big brother.”

“Big brother?” the little alpha asked.

“Yes, he has a little alpha brother a few years older than you. He always watches out for him and keeps him safe. I couldn't have asked for a better son.”

A soft, keening sound rose up from Dean’s chest. His eyes had fluttered closed, and John ghosted his thumb over Dean’s eyelid, feeling his son’s eyelashes brush against his skin. Dean had started to unconsciously rock a little backwards and forwards on his hands and knees, as if rocking with the gentle thrusts of a thick alpha cock.

The young alpha boy’s eyes fell to Dean’s winking hole. “Its hole... Um, his hole is dripping,” he observed. John smiled.

“Yes, he's such a good boy, such a wonderful omega, that his slutty hole doesn't only make slick when you put stuff inside it. It also makes slick when he's happy, and when you treat him nice. Do you want to do something nice to him and see if you can make him slick?”

John could see that the little boy’s father did not like how John had transformed the lesson, but John didn't care. Dean was his, and he had the right to be present while anyone used Dean’s omega hole. If the other alpha didn't like what John was telling his kid, then he could take the kid and leave.

“Um, okay,” the little boy said. He scooted closer to Dean and away from his dad, who had retreated a bit, the man’s hands no longer holding onto Dean and spreading him open. Dean’s unconscious rocking was making the pleats of his tennis skirt sway. The little boy reached forward again and his fingers gently patted the soft roundness of Dean's ass, and then he moved his hand and traced his finger around the flexing entrance to Dean's sweet little cunt. “Your hole feels nice.” He glanced up at John, who nodded encouragingly. “An’ it’s a really pretty pink.”

“He does have a pretty hole, doesn't he?” John agreed. Dean sighed into his hand, and the little boy behind him brightened with excitement.

“It dripped again! Daddy, look, I made it drip!”

The boy’s father looked at John warily. “Good job, son.”

Dean was still rocking, and the little alpha took advantage of that to stick out two of his fingers and let the omega’s little hole swallow them up. Dean made a humming sound when he felt the fingers enter him, seemingly noticing his own rocking for the first time, and stuttered to a stop and blinked his eyes open. His wide eyes met John’s as he smiled down at his lovely son. John moved his hand away from his boy’s face and used it to stroke back Dean’s hair.

“Don’t stop,” John whispered, and Dean slowly started to rock again, fucking himself back onto the smaller boy’s fingers as he stared up at his dad with wide eyes. John nodded and ruffled his hair. “Good boy.”

The other alpha father was watching the way John treated his son with narrowed eyes. He was probably piecing together John’s tender treatment of his omega with the fact that Dean – despite the pubescent state of his body – wasn't castrated, and had decided that John was some sort of new-age hippy kook. But John didn't care what other alphas thought of the way he treated his boy; he loved Dean far more than he could ever care about his own image.

The little alpha boy was just putting another finger into Dean’s dripping cunt when John heard a speedy set of footsteps running towards them across the playground.

“Dad!” Sam called out. “Do you know where Dean is?” When he was close enough, Sam noticed his brother on his hands and knees in the sandbox with another little alpha’s fingers inside him. “Oh, hi,” he said.

“Sammy, it's this young alpha’s first time using an omega hole. Why don't you both play with Dean together? You can teach him how to use Dean’s hole properly.”

Sam puffed out his chest, eager for the responsibility, and nodded. “Okay!”

John watched fondly as Sam walked around to get to his knees in the sand next to the smaller boy. Almost absent-mindedly, Sam reached out to greet his brother by comfortingly stroking his slick hole with his fingers while he said hi to the other young alpha.

“My name’s Sam, Dean’s my big brother. What's your name?”

“Mikey,” the boy answered shyly.

“What’ve you put in his hole so far?”

“Just my, um, just my fingers.”

“That's good! Dean’s hole likes fingers. How many?” Mikey held up his three slick fingers, and Sam nodded. “He’s got a really slutty hole, it can take more than that. Do you wanna try more?”

Mikey nodded hesitantly, and Sam showed him how to use progressively more fingers to stretch the little cunt. The younger alpha’s hand was very small, and it wasn't very long before the little boy was gasping in amazement as his entire hand slipped past Dean’s sweetly clenching rim to settle inside his hot, slick channel.

“Wow,” the boy whispered.

“Isn't it cool?” Sam said proudly. “My big brother is awesome, he has the sluttiest omega hole in the world. You can fill it up with pretty much anything as long as you treat it nice and get it stretched out first.”

The boy’s – Mikey’s – dad had reluctantly retreated back to where his wife was seated on a bench, reading a book. John was glad that the other man wasn't around to intimidate Dean anymore. John settled on the ground next to the sandbox with his legs crossed and tenderly ran his fingers through Dean’s hair while he watched the young alphas play. Dean let out a low whine when Mikey started to pump his hand in his cunt under Sam’s instruction, and John was content to settle back and listen to the cute noises and watch the cute expressions that Dean made.

“I can put other things inside, right?” Mikey asked after a while. “Not just my hand?”

“Yeah, you can put in anything, just like I said.” 

Mikey pulled out of Dean’s cunt with a wet sucking noise and patted Dean’s butt with his wet hand. “Good job,” he complimented Dean again before reaching down into the sand for one of his toys.

The little boy picked up a blue plastic shovel that he'd been using earlier and held it in front of him, pressing the flat end of the scoop against the mouth of Dean’s hole. The awkward shape wouldn't go in; Dean’s hole had softened a bit from the boy’s little hand and forearm, but it was still fairly tight since the boy was so small. As the boy persevered, trying to wiggle the shovel inside, Dean grunted and scrunched up his face. John soothed him with a gentle hand cupping his cheek.

“Careful, you're hurting him,” Sam told the smaller boy. “His hole isn’t loose enough right now to fit that inside. Even though it's really slutty, it can only fit things like that after it's been really stretched out. When it's tight like this, you should only try to put in things that are small or round.”

“Oh.” The little boy lowered the shovel and patted Dean’s relieved cunt as the older omega boy let out a deep breath. “It’s okay, 'mega hole, good try.” He turned back to his toys and looked through them until his eyes lit up and he picked up a thick funnel with a wide, circular mouth. 

Sam nodded at it. “Yeah, that's good. Go ahead and put that one in.”

John watched the little boy try to push the end of the funnel into Dean. He had nearly as much trouble with it as he had with the shovel at first, but Sam reached out after a moment of struggle to help.

“You just have to find the right angle,” Sam instructed, and used his hands to tilt the funnel until the mouth of the tiny pink cunt finally began to ease open around the rounded edge. After the whole circular neck of the funnel popped in, Sam let Mikey use both hands to press down until the entire neck sunk inside.

“Mmm,” Dean moaned, biting his lip. He rocked a little again and Sam, Mikey, and John all watched, enthralled, as his hips moved backwards and forwards with the bottom of the wide cup of the funnel flush to his spread-open hole. The big funnel kept his skirt pushed up out of the way in the back, but beneath him the pleats hung and swayed with his movement.

Mikey got up on his knees to peer down into the funnel. With the sun high in the sky, it shone down and lit up Dean’s silky inner walls. “It’s all pink inside,” the little boy breathed. “How deep does it go?”

“At least this deep if he's stretched out,” Sam said, gesturing the length of his arm from his fingertips to his elbow. “But I’ve been trying to go a little deeper every time. I think if I keep working on him, then probably I can get him to stretch out permanently. Then it won't be so hard on him to take it.”

That was the first John had heard of Sam’s little plan, and he snorted. It seemed that Dean was already familiar with his little brother's stated goal, though, because he didn't seem surprised to hear it.

“Wow.” Mikey stared into the hole of the funnel as Dean rocked a couple more times, then he reached down and picked up his shovel again. He used it to scoop up a generous helping of sand, and then lifted it up to pour out into the cup of the funnel.

As soon as the sand hit the funnel, the sound of it alerted Dean to what was happening before it had even trickled down the neck of it and settled in his cunt. His eyes shot wide open and he looked up at his dad with an expression of panic, freezing in place.

“Hey,” John shushed him immediately, reaching out to take his sweet face in both hands. “Hey, Dean, you're alright, it's alright. It's just a little sand, it can't hurt you.”

“Dean?” Sam asked concernedly, and Mikey froze with another shovelful of sand halfway to the funnel.

“Don't worry about him, Sammy, Dean’s fine. Right, Dean?” He stroked down both of his son’s flushed cheeks with his thumbs, holding his face gently but firmly to ground him. “You’re fine. I know it feels weird, but you’ve got to let them do whatever they want. It's what your hole is there for, you know that. Sammy and Mikey are having fun; you want them to keep having fun, right?”

Wide-eyed, Dean gazed into his father’s face and slowly nodded. Mikey poured the second scoop of sand into the funnel, and Dean’s expression flickered but he bit his lip and stayed still.

“Good boy,” John whispered, finally moving his hands again to card his fingers through his son’s sweat–damp hair. “I've been so proud of you this morning, for wearing your skirt without complaining and playing so nicely with your brother. And then sitting so politely and obediently for Mikey’s dad, even though he wasn't treating you very nice.” 

Mikey continued to happily pour scoops of sand into the funnel, filling Dean up. After a minute or two, Dean started to sag and hunch over, his position making it more difficult to pour the sand in.

“Stick your butt back up for them, kiddo,” John nudged him.

“Heavy,” Dean murmured. One of his hands lifted out of the sand and went to cradle his stomach. “It's. It’s getting heavy inside, Alpha.”

“Then put your head down, sweetheart.” He helped Dean lower onto his forearms so that he could keep his ass – and the funnel – up high. John shrugged off his own thin overshirt and spread it down over the sand so that Dean could rest his cheek on the ground without worrying about getting sand in his eyes or mouth. As Mikey continued to pour scoop after scoop of sand into Dean’s gaped cunt, Dean sank further and further down into the submissive posture. John reached his own hand out to press against Dean’s stomach; the sensation of Dean’s stretched channel, filled-up and weighty, making his belly hang, was dense and almost solid inside his tummy. John was in awe.

“You're so strong, baby. Look at how much your slutty hole can take. You’ve got so much inside you, you’re doing so well. Taking it all just like your hole was made for.”

“Dirty,” Dean whimpered into his dad’s overshirt. John brushed a finger over his bitten lower lip until Dean obediently opened his mouth and let his Alpha feed his finger all the way in. Dean’s lips closed around his finger and he dazedly sucked on it. John hadn't yet had Dean try to suck on his cock, but he was proud that he could now insert his fingers and small, thin dildos all the way to the back of his son’s throat without it making him gag.

“Don't worry about that,” John comforted him. “There's a hose we can use to wash you out, remember?” There was a hose over by the boathouse that John had had to use once before when they'd happened to come to the park at the same time as an intramural alpha softball team. Enough men had emptied their cum inside of Dean that day to necessitate washing him out in order to keep the car seat clean on the way home.

Dean hummed around John’s finger. Sam helped Mikey by slowly beginning to pull the funnel out while Mikey continued to pour in sand so that Mikey could really fill his big brother up all the way up to the brim.

When Sam finally eased the funnel all the way out, Dean sucked in a hitching breath and then let it out in a whine. The mouth of his hole closed around the mass of sand inside him, the tiny gape of the opening just big enough to see that his channel was completely filled. Mikey poked his finger through the little pink hole and wiggled it around in the sand.

“C’mere, Sammy, give me your hand,” John said softly. He took his alpha son's hand and placed it on Dean’s hanging tummy, using his own to press it up until Sam’s palm was gently cupped around his brother’s full channel from the outside. The sand was dense and heavy. It was almost like when they could press down and feel huge cocks or dildos filling up Dean from the inside, but also so different. Thick and leaden, yet almost squishy. They both squeezed it gently, and the densely packed sand gave way a little bit; the displacement caused a small trickle to pour out of Dean’s hole and down to tickle behind his balls, and Dean let out a low moan.

“Wow,” Sam breathed. John took his own hand away, but Sam kept his where it was and continued to gently squeeze and manipulate his big brother’s insides. “It really does feel heavy. What's it feel like inside you, Dean?”

“Unh, Sammy, feels like… Nngh, like it’s pulling me down to the ground.” Sam stroked his hand up and down the length of Dean’s filled hole inside his belly, much like he sometimes did to squeeze Dean tighter around his father's length while John was fucking him. 

“Dad, maybe we can do this some more at home to stretch Dean out inside,” Sam suggested.

“This is a little messy to do all the time,” John told his youngest. “But I can buy some weights that are easy to clean. You're right, I think exercises like this would help with that.”

There was only maybe two and a half pounds of sand in Dean just then – though he was sure that his son felt like it was far more than that – and John knew that he could probably find specialty Ben Wa balls of that weight or more. He was aware that some people used weighted piercings to permanently stretch their nipples, ears, or even external genitals, so there wasn't any reason why that wouldn't work to stretch Dean out inside to make him able to fit longer and longer insertions. They could set the swing up in the living room in the evenings and use it to suspend Dean a little upside-down with the weights inside him while they watched TV. Let the new exercise slowly stretch his hole deeper and deeper. John would love to be able to fuck Dean with something up to his ribs without it causing his sweet boy any discomfort.

Little Mikey was looking as pleased as any little boy could that his bright idea on how to use Dean’s helpless cunt had been such a good one. “Next time you come to the park I can do it again,” he offered generously.

John chuckled. “Thanks, kid. We’ll certainly take you up on that if we run into you again.” He glanced over at the young boy’s father, who was still watching them from a short distance away and looking angry that another alpha was teaching his son about how to use an omega. “Just remember to treat omegas like good boys while you play with their holes, and one day I’m sure you'll be almost as good of an alpha as Sam here.”

Sam beamed, pleased, and Mikey smiled shyly as well with self-satisfaction. Dean keened lowly, fisting his hands in John’s shirt, thighs shaking as he kept his hips up high while the weighted tunnel of his packed omega hole worked to pull him down to the ground.

“You think you can keep this inside you while we walk around the lake?” John teased him gently. Dean’s eyes fluttered open and rolled up to meet John’s, shining and wet, eyelashes clumped with tears and face gleaming with sweat.

“Nnnnoooo, Daddy, I c-can’t,” he whined, breath hitching so adorably that John couldn't help but lean down and press kisses all over his reddened cheeks.

“Oh, sweetheart, of course you can't,” he whispered, rubbing Dean’s back soothingly. “I didn't expect you to, baby, I was just joking.”

“Alpha,” Dean whimpered, correcting himself retrospectively. John was starting to wonder why he even bothered to enforce the rule that Dean call him Alpha when he was around him at all. It made sense for Dean to do so while he was at school or out of John’s sight, to inform people that Dean did have an owner and was not up for grabs; but when Dean was speaking to John directly, he really did prefer to be called 'Dad'. Other alphas might think he was too permissive – maybe even a step too far – but since when did he care what other alphas thought of how he treated his omega son?

“Are you done playing with him?” John asked Mikey as he stroked his omega son’s hair and wiped a few overwhelmed tears from Dean's damp cheeks. Mikey nodded. “Alright, then let’s get him emptied out. It's always important to stick around to help empty an omega that you've filled up after you're done.”

He tried first to have Dean push, but sand – especially sand that was wet through with slick – turned out to be a much different kind of object than even the heaviest glass or metal dildos. It was wet and clumped together enough that it wouldn't just pour out of Dean if they stood him up, either. Instead, John had to help Dean ponderously rise and then turn around and lean back against his father’s chest. John supported him in a half-seated position with his knees bent and legs spread, the hem of his skirt pulled up to expose his weakly twitching core. He held Dean gently and whispered soothing words into his ear while Sam and Mikey worked together to expel the packed, wet sand from his body by pushing their small hands into his belly and squeezing it out of his channel from end to opening, like a tube of toothpaste. Dean whimpered and clutched at his dad’s muscular forearms all the while, the grit of the sand rubbing inside of him.

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” John murmured as he held him close. “I know, baby, it feels bad, but it’s not hurting you. You’re my strong boy, my brave boy, just look at you. Look at how good you’ve been for them, sweetheart, look, they’re getting it all out of you. You’re fine, you’re just fine.”

Mikey was using his fingers to scoop the remainder of the slick-wettened sand out of Dean’s used hole. The pile between Dean’s legs was only about three cups’ worth of sand, and Dean looked down at it with some amount of surprise. It must have felt like a lot more from the inside.

“You did it!” Sam exclaimed, trying to commend his big brother for his hard work, and reached out to rub Dean's slick hole with the palm of his hand. Dean squirmed.

“Ow, Sammy, ow,” he said, trying to wiggle his hips away and turning his face to look imploringly up at his dad.

“Sam, you’re rubbing the sand into his sensitive parts right now,” John told his youngest. “Let’s wait until we’ve washed him all out before we touch him there again.”

“Oh, okay. Sorry, Dean.” He looked appropriately apologetic and took his hand away.

Dean took a shuddery breath. “It’s okay, Sammy.”

“I had a lot of fun with your hole,” Mikey told Dean. He was staring at the older boy with an expression that was almost hopeful and expectant. Dean stared at him in silence for a moment until John nudged him gently.

“Thank you,” he whispered politely. John nudged him again. “And, um, thanks for using my slutty hole.” He glanced up at John, and John gave him a little squeeze around his ribs and kissed his hair.

John stood, then lifted Dean up into the air and set him back down on his feet. He kept his hands on his son’s waist for a moment to steady him and make sure that his shaky legs weren’t about to collapse, and then gently smoothed down the hem of his rumpled, sandy skirt for him. Dean was still quite flushed, his hair damp and shirt sticking to him with sweat. His inner thighs glistened with sweat and slick as well. John knew it had been a good idea to have him wear his skirt today; if he’d worn his omega pants, there’d be sand all down the legs and he’d be even more uncomfortable.

“Are we gonna walk around the lake now?” Sam asked as the three of them started back across the playground. Dean was wobbling between them, bowlegs more pronounced than usual as he tried to keep his sandy inner thighs from rubbing together. Sam was holding one of his hands to help steady him, John the other.

“Sure are,” John answered. “Just gotta go back to the car and drink some water first, make sure your brother stays hydrated. And then we’ll go wash Dean out with the hose and get started.”

“Do you think the wild blackberries are ripe yet?” Dean asked softly. His eyes were still glassy and his voice was a bit shaky, but that was very normal for him after he’d been heavily used.

“Oh yeah!” Sam exclaimed, tightening his hand around his big brother’s and practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Is it blackberry season yet, Dad?”

“I think it might be, boys," John smiled. "I guess we’ll have to find out, huh?”

Chapter 12: A Day at the Park (Part 2): The Lake

After hydrating – Sam and John both drank two thirds of a water bottle each, while John made sure that Dean drank a full one and their leftovers – John led his boys over to the boathouse. 

One alpha did try to stop them on their way, but John requested that he wait until Dean got the sand washed out of him before using him. The alpha was kind enough to oblige (which probably was a kindness to his own cock, as well). He followed at a polite distance while the three Winchesters located the coiled garden hose half-hidden in the shrubs growing along the side of the building.

Sam helped Dean by holding his skirt up and out of the way while Dean widened his stance and stuck out his butt, leaning forward with his hands braced against the side of the boathouse for balance. John turned the water on and rinsed the sand and slick off of Dean’s legs and thighs. When his legs were clean, John crouched down and peered between Dean’s legs to see how open he still was. Turned out, not very. He really hadn't had much stretching today.

“Dean, can you hold yourself open a bit for me?” John asked. He didn't want to insert the rusty, cobweb-covered end of the hose into his son’s body, so he needed a big enough gape to be able to spray the water directly inside.

Dean shifted his weight, leaning forward until his chest and cheek were pressed up against the boathouse and reached back to hook both of his pointer fingers into his hole and pull open his entrance.

“Is that good?” he asked softly, red-faced.

“Perfect, kiddo, just perfect.”

John directed the water stream into Dean’s fluttering channel and watched as sand and water poured back out and down his thighs again. Once the water was coming out clear, John gave Dean’s legs a final rinse and then patted his bare butt.

“You’re clean, Dean. You can let it go.”

“Clean Dean!” Sam giggled as Dean withdrew his fingers and then used his hands to push against the wall and straighten up. Sam let Dean’s skirt fall back down to cover him. “You were Dirty Dean, and now you're Clean Dean!”

“Har har,” Dean said with a little eye roll. Then he caught sight of the waiting alpha, who'd been hovering a ways away but was now approaching.

John took Sam over to the dock to watch the paddleboaters, keeping a watchful eye on Dean while the alpha stranger fucked him against the side of the boathouse. The man opted not to tie with him and kept his knot outside of the omega’s channel. He eventually pulled out and shot his load into the dirt between Dean’s feet instead of inside him or on his clothes or skin, which was very considerate.

When he was done, the man helped Dean straighten back up and get steady on his feet. John watched him say something to Dean – he was too far away to make out the words or read the man’s lips – and then reach down and grope Dean’s ass underneath his skirt. Dean blushed red and bit his lip, but he let the alpha feel him up for a few moments until the man finally turned him around, pointed him towards John and Sam, and sent him on his way with a playful leer and a smack on the rump.

John raised his eyebrows at Dean while he walked over to them, looking affronted.

“What was that all about?” he asked his eldest while the three of them finally started on their circuit around the lake.

“Nothin’,” Dean answered moodily. At John’s unimpressed expression, he pouted. “He, um, he called me a slutty little girl.”

“Why?” Sam asked, flouncing the hem of Dean’s skirt with his hand but respectfully leaving his brother's public parts covered. “You don't look like a girl.”

“Sure I don’t,” Dean muttered, looking down at his feet as they walked. He was forcing himself to scowl, but John could tell that his son was feeling more insecure and embarrassed than angry. He reached down and used his hand to mess up Dean’s hair until Dean pushed him away with a whiny “Hey!”

“That alpha should make an appointment with his optometrist,” John said lightly. “He needs to get his eyes checked if he can look at you and see anything other than a slutty little boy.” He poked his son teasingly in the ribs and Dean ducked away, blushing.

“‘M not little,” he mumbled.

“You're my baby, kiddo. You'll always be little to me.”

The three of them continued on along the walking path. Every once in a while, John stopped to watch as his kids were distracted by bullfrogs, cool bugs and, once, a tiny striped snake.

“Watch this, Sammy,” Dean said while he chased the little reptile down with outstretched fingers.

“Dean! Don't touch it! It'll eat you!” Sam exclaimed, but the expression on his face was one of overjoyed awe and not fear.

“Naw, Sammy,” Dean said as he carefully lifted the small snake with both hands. “It’s just a little garden snake, it can't hurt me. Look.”

He held the snake out to his little alpha brother. John watched fondly as his youngest son laughed with delight and backed away, torn between his irrational fear of the snake and his admiration for his big brother’s bravery.

“Put it down! Put it down!” he demanded, though some of his fear had evaporated at seeing Dean’s total lack of it (and the snake calmly wrapping around his hand as it accepted its predicament).

“Take a picture of me, first! Alpha, take a picture of me holding it!”

John obliged his son with an indulging smile and took a photo. He made sure to keep Dean’s skirt out of the picture, capturing only his upper body; green T-shirt, bright eyes, flushed cheeks, big smile, and slender hands holding the little garter snake out in front of him.

“Got it,” John said after he'd taken a few. It was a cute picture. Sam screamed gleefully as Dean gently lowered his hands into the grass and allowed the snake to escape into the nearby reeds.

“Can you text it to me?” Dean asked.

“Sure thing, kiddo,” John nodded, and they started walking again after he’d tucked his phone back into his pocket.

“Why? You gonna send it to Benny later?” Sam asked, tone a little soured. He'd been feeling a little jealous lately at how often Dean was texting his new friend. Sam was used to getting almost all of his big brother’s attention.

“Why do you hate him so much? You don't even know him.” Dean’s tone had changed, too. He was very in-tune with his brother’s moods. Knowing that Sam was upset made him nervous.

“I don't hate him,” Sam sniffed. “I just don't get why you like him so much.”

Dean was back to staring at his feet while they walked. He started playing with the hem of his shirt. “He's just. He's just nice, okay?”

“Whatever. I bet he can't make you get as slick as I can,” Sam muttered and kicked at a rock.

“Sam, leave your brother alone. He's allowed to have friends, too.”

“Yeah, I know. I'm just saying. I know your cunt is real slutty, Dean, but it gets the sluttiest and slickest for me ‘n’ Dad, right? ‘Cause you love us the most?”

Dean looked over at Sam. His wide eyes darted up to John’s and then back to his brother, and he swallowed and nodded.

“Yeah, Sammy, of course.” He looked a little panicked and uncomfortable. John reached over and petted Dean’s sweat-damp hair before dropping his hand to softly rub his thumb against his son’s scent gland in reassurance.

“Sam, that’s not a fair question to ask your brother. Dean can't control how slutty his hole is or how slick it gets,” he reminded his alpha son. “You know that. No matter how much his slutty body enjoys someone else using it, that doesn't take away from how much he loves us.”

Looking suitably chastised, Sam frowned at his feet.

“Yeah. I know. Sorry, Dean.”

Dean let out a soft little breath. “It’s okay.”

Dean continued to fiddle nervously with the hem of his shirt and Sam pouted quietly as they walked for a couple more minutes. John cast his eyes to the sky, mourning the sudden loss of what had been such a lovely mood. Luckily, Sam was still young enough that he recovered quickly from both his jealousy and John’s correction, and within a few minutes he was smiling again and pointing out creepy crawlies and slimy critters to his brother. Picking up his little brother’s return to the relaxed fun from earlier, Dean was soon smiling again as well.

Sam and Dean grew more excited as they continued to round the lake. At the far end, there was a narrow, grassy offshoot from the walking path through the trees that led to a small clearing with a white-painted gazebo. It was a popular local spot for school dance and wedding photos, but otherwise was usually empty. The gazebo was surrounded by wild blackberry bushes, which the boys had discovered a few years ago. Ever since their discovery, they always liked to go to the gazebo in the late summer and fall months when the berries were ripe to snack on the treats during their walk around the lake. John usually joined in; there certainly was something about blackberries straight from the bush that made them taste better than what you could buy at the grocery store.

“Look! Some of them are ready!” Sam shouted and broke into a run when he saw the green leaves dotted with black fruit from a distance. Dean quickly sprinted after him, his longer legs helping him to catch up and ultimately beat his little brother there. 

While his sons began fishing through the blackberry thicket for the ripe berries, John turned to a nearby patch of wildflowers. Thinking tenderly of Mary, he picked them and began to weave them into chains with his dexterous mechanic’s fingers the way his wife had once taught him to. She used to make them into flower crowns for Dean when he was little. Whenever she did, John always made one for her, in turn. Once, Dean had completed the circle by clumsily making a messy chain of his own and placing it onto John’s head. There used to be a photo of that day, of him and Mary smiling with Dean in their arms with all three of them wearing flower crowns. But it had been lost in the fire.

As he finished knotting a crown of blue and white flowers – one of yellow and pink already set aside in the grass – John heard an undignified squeak from the direction of the gazebo.

“Sammy!” Dean gasped breathlessly. “What'd you just put in me?”

“A blackberry,” Sammy replied cheerfully.

Dean was on his knees in the grass. He'd been bending over to pick blackberries from lower branches, but now he was sitting up stalk-straight with both hands behind him, smoothing down the back of his skirt and covering his bottom. A deep blush was filling his freckled cheeks.

“Why?” Dean asked. He knew it was silly to ask his little brother why he'd decided to put something into his hole – very frequently Sam’s answer was to shrug and say that he just wanted to – but John knew that Dean liked to at least know.

“I wanna see what it tastes like after it’s been inside you. Can I have it back now?”

“Oh. Okay.” Dean blushed further and bent back down until he was on his hands and knees to let his little brother lift up his skirt again and wriggle his fingers into his tiny pink cunt to find the blackberry. When he found it, Sam eagerly popped the slick-glossy berry into his mouth.

“Dean, your slick made it taste real good!”

John chuckled, walking over with his flower crowns. Only recently had Sam started enjoying the taste of his brother’s slick: licking his fingers clean after playtime or occasionally dipping a finger inside for a quick taste while they were running errands or sitting in the car. Combining Dean’s slick with food, however, was a novelty.

Upon reaching his kids, John placed the yellow and pink flower crown on Sammy’s tousled brunet head, and the white and blue one over Dean’s dark honey-colored locks.

“You want one, Dad?” Sam asked, plucking a few ripe blackberries and gesturing towards Dean.

“Sure, I’ll try one.”

“What about you, Dean?”

Without being asked, Dean stayed down on his hands and knees and widened the spread of his legs a little, canting his hips up. He shook his head, looking flustered.

“No, thanks. It… it doesn't taste good to me like it does to you, Sammy.”

Sam dipped a couple more blackberries into Dean’s hole, eating one and then handing the other to his dad. John popped it into his mouth and chewed. He wouldn't say that the flavors went together, exactly; but it wasn't bad, and there was something delicious about the initial taste of Dean on his tongue being followed immediately by the burst of sweet berry juice.

“Think your brother is gonna be a chef one day?” John asked Dean. “You can be his secret ingredient.”

Dean bashfully ducked his head and stayed on his hands and knees while Sam happily gathered more blackberries. He poked them one by one past Dean’s slick, tight entrance until they settled in his stretched channel.

“How many are you gonna put in there, Sammy?” John finally asked wryly after a few minutes.

“I wanna fill Dean up so I can eat them later,” Sam informed him, his pointer finger disappearing into the pink embrace of Dean’s tiny cunt as it pushed in another berry.

“But Sammy, if you make me walk with them in me it's gonna be really messy! I'll get all sticky inside!”

John reached out and gently pinched Dean’s freckled cheek. “C'mon, Dean, what's your hole for?”

Dean pouted. “Alpha pleasure.”

“That's right, baby. So if your brother wants to get it all sticky and messy, then he gets to do that.”

“Yes, Alpha. I know.”

John squeezed the soft skin of Dean’s blushing cheek between his fingers affectionately, only just hard enough to hurt but not enough for the pain to linger, and then let him go. He quickly soothed the pinched flesh with his thumb, and Dean accepted the comfort, eyelashes fluttering.

When Sam was satisfied with the quantity of blackberries filling his big omega brother’s slick hole, he sat back on his heels with a somewhat self-satisfied smile. John peered at Dean’s exposed rear. The skin between the young omega's legs was flushed adorably pink. His entrance was still tight, having only been used a few times that day and not stretched wide enough to stay gaped. The silky pink internal flesh was only barely visible, glistening and twitching as it struggled to relax around its clutch of fruit. It was drooling slick, which was tinted purple with blackberry juice.

“Thanks, Dean,” Sam said, patting Dean’s butt and then pulling his skirt back down to let him know that he was done being used for the time being.

John helped his omega son to his feet. Dean's knees and the palms of his hands were red and striped with the impressions that the grass had left on his skin, a few green blades clinging to him that John brushed back to the ground. A thin trail of dark juice was sliding down the inside of his right leg. The front of his skirt was visibly tented, and Dean blushed and looked away when he saw his father take notice even though John was nothing but pleased. One of the reasons why Dean liked his omega pants was because it was so much easier for him to hide how much he liked being used, but John loved witnessing the evidence of his son’s enjoyment.

“Are you ready, boys?” he asked, reaching out in turn to poke Sam’s belly (which made him giggle and dart away) and then Dean’s little erection (which made him let out an adorable little yelp and shudder).

“Yeah!” Sam said loudly and Dean nodded. 

They began to head back through the short grassy trail to the paved lakeshore path. Dean was walking a little funny, legs bowed out to keep from crushing Sam’s blackberries just like they'd been bowed out earlier to keep the sand from rubbing inside him. John shortened his gait to keep step with Dean, not minding the slower pace and enjoying taking in the scenery. Sam couldn't make himself slow down, though, walking ahead of them and then circling back every once in a while to show them a cool rock or waiting until they caught up to point out a bug. 

After a little while of walking, however, Dean suddenly came to a stop. When John looked to see what was wrong, Dean was simply staring down at his own legs. What had previously been a few small drips of berry juice on his thigh had become a steady trickle, and the juice was staining his inner legs purple and had trailed all the way down to his socks.

Dean looked up and met his dad’s eyes, looking upset.

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, freckles standing out starkly on his soft cheeks, still cute in his flower crown. “I'm trying my best, I swear, but they're getting all squished!”

Sometimes Dean got panicky when he thought that his hole had made a mistake or was underperforming, even though John very rarely punished him for it. He smiled reassuringly to settle Dean’s anxiety.

“Well, we can't have that, can we?” John asked, but before Dean could say anything further he leaned down and scooped his son up until he was cradling him in his arms.

“Alpha!” Dean squealed, hurriedly covering his erection with his skirt, which had flipped up in the front. The back of the skirt hung freely, however, baring his butt and dripping cunt to the hot summer air. John bent his neck down to press a wet kiss to his son’s forehead.

“Guess I'll just have to carry you. My own cute little blackberry basket,” he teased lightly. Dean sputtered, eyes shining, and John laughed at his expression. “Or can Sammy and I make you our picnic basket? Next time we come to the park, we can fill you up with Goldfish and peanut butter sandwiches and I’ll carry you around.” 

The idle thought of making Dean into a picnic basket was just silly fun, but as he looked down at his son, John began to picture it. He imagined tying Dean’s naked body up with soft rope until he was immobile, the intricate knots mimicking the wicker of a basket – he could make a handle out of the rope, too – and then filling Dean’s little pink hole up until it was near to bursting with wrapped sandwiches, fruit, snacks and desserts. Loading the boy’s bound, stuffed body into the passenger seat of the car in the same way that he loaded in the cooler. Carrying Dean by the rope handle over the grass until he and Sam found a good spot near the lake. Then setting up a blanket and just having a relaxing picnic lunch with his alpha son… and their lovely little picnic basket, all blushing and needy, trembling on the blanket between them. John could almost hear the sounds that Dean would make through his rope gag every time John or Sam reached into his over-packed cunt to pull out something to eat… There would undoubtedly be a soaked patch on the blanket beneath him before the picnic was over.

The fantasy had made him half-hard, but John ignored his cock and put the idea away for another time. Instead, he focused back on the present; namely, on the sweet little blackberry container in his arms. Smiling, he tickled Dean’s ribs and his son let out a helpless giggle. The clenching of his abdomen sent a fresh wave of blackberry juice and slick gushing out of his hole.

“Hey! You're making him squish them!” Sam objected hotly.

“Alright, alright,” John relented, laughing, and began to continue along the walking path.

With Dean in his arms, they were now able to keep stride with Sam’s desired pace. After perhaps another fifteen minutes of walking, they neared the end of the path – the boathouse looming ahead of them – and John had Sam stop.

“We should finish your blackberries before we get back to the main park, Sammy,” he told the young alpha. “Another alpha might want to use Dean’s hole, and I doubt you’ll think they're very appetizing after that.”

Sam had been leisurely eating as they walked, occasionally dipping his fingers into his brother’s exposed cunt to pull out a berry or two. There was still quite an impressive amount in Dean’s hole, however, and John wasn't sure an alpha would be too pleased about poking his cock inside the tiny cunt only to then find it messy and stained with crushed blackberries. And he was certain that neither he nor Sam would want to finish crushed blackberries that had been mixed with another alpha's cum.

John laid Dean out on the grass near the lake just off of the paved walking path. Knowing what was expected of him, Dean bashfully pulled up the hem of his skirt and spread his legs, giving both John and Sam a stunning eyeful of his flushed skin, hard little cock, and dripping hole.

“You can eat them if you want, Dad,” Sam told him. “I’m kind of full of blackberries, plus the ones that are left in there are all squished.” He saw Dean bite his lip, looking a little ashamed, and quickly turned to reassure his brother. “It's not your fault! They were already kind of mushy when I put them inside, anyway!” His soothing hand stroking over Dean’s inner thigh made the omega relax somewhat. Then, he patted Dean’s twitching skin and moved away, leaving his big brother for his dad while he wandered closer to the lake to watch the nearby ducks.

Sam’s eyes were frequently bigger than his stomach, which sometimes irked John when it meant wasting dinner. It was a little less irritating when it only meant that Dean’s cunt had been stuffed a bit fuller than it needed to be. In fact, John didn't find it all that irritating at all now that it meant that he would get to eat sweet fruit out of his eldest son’s sweet hole. "Don't mind if I do," he muttered to himself with a wry smile.

John got to his knees between Dean’s legs and reached out, taking each slender thigh in one big hand. He stroked his thumbs along the crease between the boy’s legs, nudging up underneath Dean’s tight little balls and making him whimper before sliding the ends of his thumbs into that tiny pink hole and spreading the entrance wide.

“You’re so wet for me,” he said, smiling down at his son’s flushed face. Dean’s hands were fisted in his Incredible Hulk T-shirt as he met his Alpha’s gaze with shining eyes. John lowered his head until his breath was ghosting over Dean’s flexing hole, which was trembling around his thumbs with anticipation. Dean’s erection was right in his face from that vantage point, and John chuckled and nudged it with his nose, making Dean gasp. “So hard for me, too. My slutty little boy.”

Before Dean could so much as make a sound, John licked a blazing trail around the young boy’s entrance. The taste of sticky blackberry juice and slick filled his mouth, and he licked again and then delved his tongue into Dean’s soaked channel to get at the crushed blackberries hidden inside.

“Alpha!” Dean whimpered. John rarely used his mouth on him; it wasn't his favorite activity to use Dean’s hole for, but he did do it sometimes when he thought that his son deserved a treat. Every time, Dean acted as though the sensation was overwhelming.

Encouraged by the sweet taste and by Dean’s sweet sounds, John continued to lavish the slick hole with attention, biting and sucking the blackberries from it as he would the tender fruit from a ripe watermelon. Dean struggled to keep his legs spread wide and not tighten them around his father’s head, breath hitching and body squirming as his hips twitched under John’s ministrations.

“Sorry, Alpha, sorry, I’m sorry,” Dean whimpered softly, and John noticed that the boy's erection was repeatedly nudging against his forehead, leaving a little trail of slick as it slipped across his skin.

John responded by pulling away from the sweet little cunt and turning his attention to the stiff little cock. Dean was still small enough that he could fit both the boy’s penis and testicles inside his mouth at once, and he did so, tenderly laving over them with his tongue and getting them wet and hot and sticky with dark juice.

“Alpha!” Dean exclaimed, and John allowed him to thrust his little hips up against his mouth once, twice, and then when he could sense that his son was about to come he gently sucked as he drew his mouth up and off of Dean’s little cock until just the head still rested on his tongue. Then, he gently slipped three fingers into Dean’s clenching hole and curled them, pressing firmly up into that sweet spot inside him. Dean came with a mewl, shooting slick from his little cock directly onto John’s tongue and squirting more from his hole out around John’s fingers. 

John swallowed and then released the boy’s spent cock from his mouth. Then, he sat up and smiled down at Dean’s sweaty, flushed face. He slickly pulled his fingers out of his son's lax hole and thumbed at the entrance, wiping away a drip of slick and berry juice.

“You're getting bigger,” he told Dean fondly after it seemed that his son had recovered from his orgasm enough to understand him. He took one of Dean’s little balls between his fingers and stroked his thumb over the soft, delicate skin. “You’re starting to be quite the mouthful.”

“I’m sorry,” Dean apologized breathlessly, heavy breaths making his chest rise and fall underneath his clenched hands.

“Don’t be,” John shushed him, rolling the tiny ball in his fingers. “It's natural. It just means you're growing up.” 

John’s touch was light on Dean’s testicle, his grip gentle as he ran his thumb over it. In his mind, he compared it to how it used to be, weeks or months or years ago. With the sensitive skin of his fingertips, he could feel all of the slight differences. The ways that this part of his son’s body had grown and changed. His baby boy wasn't going to be a baby for much longer; he would start growing hair there, soon, too, and his voice had already started to get deeper.

John applied a little pressure to the tiny organ between his fingers; not enough to hurt, but enough to be known. In response, Dean only bit his lip and further spread his legs to allow his Alpha to continue doing whatever he wanted. John felt a dizzying rush of affection and love: Dean was submitting so automatically and so trustingly to him, all while John held this delicate, vulnerable part of him in his hand.

Breathless himself, eyes wide and fixed on his boy’s face, John adjusted his grip until he was cradling both of Dean’s testicles and his soft, spent little penis in his palm. With his other hand, he stroked the reddened rash that his stubble had left on Dean’s inner thighs and then slipped three fingers back into the young omega’s messy hole. Dean watched him quietly, his only reaction to tighten his fingers slightly in his shirt.

“You’re growing up,” John repeated, voice soft. He slid his pinky past Dean’s rim to settle inside with his other three fingers. The entrance was tight around the wide part of his hand, but just past it Dean’s channel was wide open, blown out and hot and so, so slick. “You’re gonna get bigger, sweetheart. You’re gonna be a man one day." He twisted his fingers, felt the loose walls flutter around them. "But you’ll always be my little boy, Dean. You’ll always be my baby.”

He squeezed his hand around Dean’s squishy little cock and balls just a bit harder than before – hard enough to make Dean ache – and watched in awe as Dean only let out a breath, full lips parting, and tilted his hips up into John’s hand, thighs splaying wide. 

His son would let him do anything.

“Oh, sweetheart,” John whispered, palm still gripped tight around Dean’s tender parts as he leaned over and pressed a kiss onto Dean’s open mouth. “God, you’re so wonderful,” he mumbled against the soft skin. He licked at Dean’s bitten lower lip and then nipped at it himself; Dean exhaled a whimper into his mouth. “My baby boy. So good for me, so good for your brother, letting us do what we want to this slutty body of yours. So good for every goddamn alpha and beta who uses up your slutty hole.”

“Alpha,” Dean whispered, breath ghosting over John’s lips.

John began to slowly pump his four fingers in and out of his son’s loosened hole. He could still feel some blackberries deep in his son’s hot little body, sweet juice stirring up with the slick he was making.

“I’ve been thinking of something, baby,” John said, savoring the feeling of Dean’s soft lips against his and Dean’s soft penis in his palm and Dean’s softening rim around his fingers. “When you’re with me, I don’t want you to call me Alpha anymore. I want you to call me Dad again. Okay, baby?”

At his words, Dean took in a few quick, shuddery breaths, and then John felt his son’s little fingers hesitantly curl into the collar of his shirt.

“Really?” Dean whispered. “I can, I can call you...?”

John lifted his head and looked down to see that the expression on Dean’s face was one of amazement. He nodded, meeting his son’s searching eyes.

“Yes, sweetheart,” he murmured. “I’ve always been your dad, Dean. Before anything else, that’s what I am. I’m your dad before I’m your Alpha. You and Sammy, you’re the best part of my life. You're my kids. My boys, my babies. You know that, right?”

Dean’s little cunt clenched around his fingers, gripping them so tightly while slick blurted out around them. John chuckled, always amazed by what could make his boy get slick, and then leaned back down and licked a broad stripe across both of Dean’s red-blushed, freckled cheeks.

The slick pink rim around his fingers quivered and throbbed around his knuckles. The terrible bruises that had been left from that high school event had faded away, but John couldn’t forget. Men had punched into his boy. So, so many men had punched their way into his boy with closed fists. So many men had taken his son like that.

John straightened, suddenly desperate for the sight of his son’s body. His eyes roamed over the young omega, from his curled toes and up those slender legs to where his own hands were claiming Dean’s tenderest parts as his own. Then up, to his rumpled tennis skirt and the superhero shirt that was twisted from Dean’s earlier grip. Dean’s freckled arms, dusted with golden hair like he had on his legs, were reaching towards him; his small fingers were still curled in John’s collar, little knuckles warm against his throat when he swallowed. 

And then, Dean's face. His beautiful face. Gentle curves, high cheeks, strong jaw, straight nose. Full, sweet lips, the plush lower lip reddened from both his and John’s teeth. Dean’s eyes were heavy-lidded; gleaming green and dark, his pupils blown. His cheeks were still flushed, hair damp and sweat beading on his temple, the white and blue flowers in his crown a little crumpled from him lying his head in the grass. John didn’t think that Mary would fault him for thinking that in that moment, Dean was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

Dean gazed up at him from under his long lashes. He worried his lower lip again between his teeth and sucked in a little breath.

“Dad?” he finally whispered, voice hesitant. It had been several years since he’d called John that with conscious intent; when he wasn’t out of his mind and overwhelmed with emotion or sensation. John smiled and nodded. He hadn’t expected it, but the sound of that word from his eldest son’s mouth nearly brought him to tears.

“Yes, Dean?” He twisted his fingers in Dean’s slick little cunt and stroked his thumb around the stretched rim. Dean keened, long and high, a sound that rose up from deep within his chest.

“Dad,” the young omega repeated after a moment, and John’s heart swelled in his chest as he saw Dean’s eyes welling with tears of his own. He pulled his fingers out slightly from his boy’s slick hole and leaned down to kiss away the teardrops that gathered at the corner of those green eyes, and then shifted down until his lips hovered just above Dean’s.

“Say it again, baby,” he whispered. His hand was still clenched tight around Dean’s penis and little balls, keeping those vulnerable organs protected inside of his painful grip. With his other hand, he tucked his thumb into his palm.

“Daddy,” Dean said, and John inhaled the word straight from between Dean’s lips, tasting it and then licking his tongue into his son’s open mouth while at the same time plunging his hand past Dean’s loose rim and deep into that hot, slick channel.

Dean’s mouth opened in a low groan, allowing John’s tongue to plunge further, towards the back of his throat. John twisted his arm, pressing his fist deeper and deeper, as deep as it could go. It was so much different, the feeling of his son’s silky slick channel fully engulfing his hand, than that of it engulfing his cock. It felt so much more intimate, somehow. It felt special; it felt like a gift. He wanted to keep his hand inside Dean's body like that forever. 

When he felt Dean spasm around him, he drew back slightly. Dean’s eyes were squeezed shut, lips still parted, chest heaving. Looking down, John could see the bulge of his fist beneath Dean’s belly button. 

He’d had the thought, earlier that day at the sandbox, that he’d like to be able to stretch Dean out inside; deep enough to penetrate him up to his ribs. John felt that desire again in that moment. He felt it so strongly; felt it as an unbearable, painful ache in his chest. He wanted to press his arm in further, he wanted to ease it up into Dean's rib cage. He wanted to hold Dean’s little beating heart in the palm of his hand, to keep it safe in his grasp where no one could hurt it.

“Nngh,” Dean whimpered as John pushed his fist against that dead end at the back of his hole. He could feel the silky flesh that embraced his forearm tighten around him slightly as it was forced to stretch deeper. “Unh… so full, D-Dad...” John pulled back a little and then plunged back in, twisting, rubbing his knuckles against the back of Dean’s messy hole. He’d all but forgotten his other hand, which was squeezing tighter and tighter around his son’s penis and balls as his heart rate increased. Some possessive, protective part of his brain could only think of burrowing deeper into his son’s slender little body; of digging himself in so deep that Dean would never be able to let him go.

“Daddy!” Dean cried, throwing his arms around John’s neck and pulling him down until he could rub the side of his face desperately against his father’s scent gland while his lower body trembled with pain and the overwhelming sensation of fullness and pressure inside and out.

“That’s it, baby,” John murmured into his hair. The fragrance of the flower crown filled his nose, but beneath that was the stronger scent of Dean’s sweat and slick and tears; so much sweeter and more wonderful. “I’m here. I’m here, Dean. I’ll always be right here.”

Chapter 13: After-School Ice Cream

Dean had free use during fifth and eighth periods that week (as well as third period, like usual). He never liked having free use for eighth period because since it was the last period of the day, a lot of the time the monitor let the alphas run late using him and made him miss the bus.

When the three boys that had been playing with Dean’s cunt in eighth period that day were finally finished, it had already been a few minutes since the last bell rang. Coach Carson, the girls’ basketball coach and eighth period free use monitor, chatted with the alpha boys while they washed their hands and then sent them off before coming over to the bench to get Dean tidied up and released.

She first removed the large steel plug from Dean’s ass, unlocked the tight cock cage, and then gave Dean’s open hole and inner thighs a perfunctory wipedown with a handful of wet wipes. The cleaning solvent in the wipes stung as they dipped a bit into his twitching cunt, but Dean was used to the sting – he felt it during cleaning at the end of every free use period, sometimes multiple times throughout if he got real messy – and swallowed his whimper.

When he was finally unbound, Coach Carson handed him the usual plastic cup of water and he drank half of it through the plastic straw before shakily making his way over to his cubby while he scrubbed his eyes with the back of his wrist. His movements were a little slow and wobbly, but then he glanced at the clock and realized that he needed to hurry or he'd miss his bus and began to quickly dress despite the difficulty caused by his rubbery limbs.

Just as he was about to rush out of the room, however, Dean checked his phone and saw a text from Benny that he had received twenty minutes ago.

Benny

hey little bro. thought id swing by your school on the way home and see if you wanted a ride

im in the parking lot rn, let me know

Dean felt a little warmth blossom in his chest and he couldn't help but smile and hold his phone to his heart for a moment before responding. Benny had been texting him every day, but Dean had kinda thought that maybe he was just being nice. Benny was mature – almost done with high school – and he even lived alone since his grandmother, who'd raised him, had passed. Dean was just a stupid kid; there wasn't any reason for Benny to want to hang out with him. Dean hadn’t really dared to hope that he'd see the older boy again so soon.

Dean

hi benny thats so nice id reely like that im sory i took so long to replie i just got dun with free use i just got dressd il cum to u rite away i hope u r stil ther its ok if u rnt tho im reely sory

Dean stared at his phone screen as the text message sent, and just a few seconds later he saw the little dots that meant that Benny was typing a response.

Benny

dont sweat the small stuff, brother. im still here.

take your time, aint got nowhere else to be.

Dean smiled and bit his lip. Benny was a popular athlete, he probably had so many high school friends and yet the only person he wanted to hang out with after school today was Dean? Wow.

Dean

thnk u i wil b reely fast i promiss thnk u for waiting

Benny

thought i told you to take your time? 😉

be a good boy for me and drink your water first. and dont run. id never forgive myself if you tripped and got hurt over me.

Dean felt his face get hot. He really wanted to be a good boy for Benny.

Dean

ok sory i wont run i wil finish my water i wil c u soon thnk u

Dean put his phone away into his pocket and then picked his cup of water back up. He drank it quickly with both hands, though he made sure not to pour it too fast down his throat so he didn't cough or choke. He then exited the omega use room with his backpack over his shoulders, both hands clutching onto the straps. Since he wasn't rushing to catch the bus anymore, he was able to enjoy the fact that the halls were mostly empty. A couple of boys did slap his ass as they passed him going in the opposite direction, but no one tried to stop him or use him.

When Dean exited the school building, he made his way across the paved half-circle pick-up/drop-off area over to the small visitors’ parking lot. He spotted Benny’s truck there, and there was Benny standing beside it, leaning against the door. The older boy seemed to spot him at the same time, and Dean saw him smile and straighten, raising his big hand in a wave. Dean felt his face light up and he waved back as he sped his pace a little, making a beeline towards his friend.

“Hey, omega!” he heard a voice at his left, and Dean turned his head to see a stocky man with wire-rimmed glasses shutting the door to his sedan before jogging over to Dean. The man was wearing a navy blue polo shirt and khaki pants. He looked like the manager of a grocery store or something. Dean could feel his nose twitch as he caught the man’s scent; he was an alpha.

“Daaaad!” his daughter whined out the window of the car from the pick-up circle. “I wanna go home!”

“Just a minute, honey!” the alpha called back. Dean was standing still, warily waiting for him, and upon seeing that he'd successfully stopped the omega the alpha man slowed his pace as he approached. Even from just the short jog, he was breathing a bit heavily.

Dean looked back over at Benny, who was frowning in his direction, and then quickly down at the ground before turning to the alpha man in front of him. He’d understand if Benny was annoyed to be held up. If Benny didn’t want to wait for him anymore, Dean wouldn't be upset. He wouldn’t.

“Can’t believe my luck!” the alpha man exclaimed. “You're the special needs omega, right? The one that was at the high school last week? My work buddy told me about you. Said you can take a fist no problem. That right?”

Dean nodded at the sidewalk and tightened his hands on the straps of his backpack. It'd been less than a week since he'd taken his first grown-up fist, but he'd taken at least thirty different fists that day, so it wasn't like he was all inexperienced about it. And Dad had done it to him at the park, too. Dean was glad that it made his dad happy to be able to finally be able to put his whole hand inside, but he hadn't really thought that maybe alphas would want to do that to him all the time, now.

“Fantastic!” The man rubbed his hands together with the sort of muted delight of an adult who didn't want to come off as childish for being excited about playing with a new toy. “Come back over to my car for a minute with me.”

Despondently, Dean glanced over his shoulder at Benny. The older boy was still watching him. From this far away he couldn't exactly make out the expression on the alpha’s face. He tugged his cell phone out of his pocket as he followed the man back to his car where his beta daughter was scowling at Dean through the window.

Dean

benny im sory its ok u dont hav to wait any more u can leev il cal my alpha to pick me up aftr dont wory thnk u im reely sory

It wasn't fair. Dean blinked back tears and swallowed around the knot that had formed in his throat. He'd been so excited to hang out with his friend like a normal kid. And Benny had been waiting so long for him; he probably wouldn't want to ever try to hang out with Dean after school again if this was what it was going to be like.

When they reached the alpha’s car, the older man put his hands under Dean’s armpits and lifted him slightly before nearly slamming him facedown on the white hood with his legs hanging off the front. Dean scrambled, palms searching for somewhere to grip and feet kicking a little in the air for a toehold so he could adjust his position. The front of his hips were pressed uncomfortably against the ridge at the front of the hood, squishing his soft penis and balls painfully. He made a sound of distress. The alpha behind him sighed and grabbed him by the hips, hitching him up a little to alleviate the pressure, and then kept him in place with a palm on his butt while his other hand slipped through the gap in Dean’s pants.

“My knees aren't what they used to be, I can't do this kneeling on the sidewalk anymore,” the man told him while his thick fingers prodded clumsily against Dean’s asshole – still soft from the heavy plug – and then behind his balls before finally locating his slick omega hole. “I’ve gotta be quick about this, my daughter's waiting in the back seat. But I couldn’t just let you walk away without giving this hole a try.”

The hood of the car was hot from the sun, the engine still running – the alpha had probably kept the air conditioning on for his daughter – and the heat was quickly soaking through Dean’s shirt and making him sweat. It was almost too hot on his palms and forearms, but Dean really didn't want to put his face against the hot and dirty surface so he gritted his teeth and folded his arms under his face.

Two thick fingers breached his hole and then quickly became three, pumping into him a couple times before the man’s pinky wiggled its way inside. Dean was already stretched and slick from free use period, so it didn't even twinge.

“Wow, Pete wasn’t lying,” the man said. Four fingers were pushed all the way inside him until the web of the man’s thumb was against his rim. The alpha stroked his thumb underneath the swell of Dean’s ass and then twisted it until the pad of his thumb was resting on the soft furl of the boy’s asshole. Dean felt the smooth thumb rub a little and then press down slightly, not breaching the hole but feeling the way that the tight ring of muscle gave and twitched underneath the touch.

“Wait,” Dean tried to say, but his voice got caught in his throat and it came out as barely more than a whisper. That hole was his dad’s. This alpha wasn't allowed to put anything in there.

It was okay, though; the alpha didn't try to press any further. Instead, he pulled his hand back out and when it returned, it was closed into a fist. The hard ridges of those knuckles slipped against the slick pink of Dean’s gaping rim, and Dean flinched. He remembered the brutal, penetrating punches of all the men who'd used him at the glory booth. Even though the bruises had all quickly faded, he still felt their ghosts lingering behind, making the flesh around his tiny pink cunt tender and a little sore. Was this alpha gonna punch-fuck him like that again?

At that thought, Dean felt his heart rate instantly pick up and his skin began to prickle like bugs were crawling all across him. He knew that the sensations were just the eagerness of his slutty body; he even felt more slick start to well up inside his clenching channel, the cock-hungry little cunt so happy for the stranger’s fist that it was drooling. Dean used to think that those crawling sensations and racing heartbeat were from anxiety and trepidation since it felt almost exactly the same, but he knew by now that any feeling he had about getting used was always a good one no matter how bad he thought it felt. He just couldn't always tell the difference because his slick-addled omega brain got confused.

“So stretchy,” the alpha commented as he pressed his closed fist forward. The loosened rim of Dean’s trembling cunt opened easily to accommodate, mouthing wetly at the man’s hairy knuckles before swallowing them up and sucking them in deep.

“Unnhh,” Dean moaned, the sound bubbling from between his full lips against his wishes as the big hand forced its way inside him, the bulge of it pressing the skin of his belly against the hard hood of the hot car. He was starting to feel the weight of the books in his backpack pushing down on top of him. It made his dazed brain think that the alpha man was lying across him, even though he was still just standing on the asphalt with only his hands touching him. With the weight on his back and the fist inside of his body, Dean felt trapped.

“Almost couldn't believe it, but gosh darn if it isn't true,” the alpha man said. “Your Alpha is your father, right? I can't believe he kept you instead of selling.” The alpha whistled and pressed his knuckles down, rubbing them against the silky pink walls of his channel, grinding Dean’s belly button into the hot hood of the car and making the young omega whimper. “You know, your father could probably auction you off for a pretty penny. I guarantee you there are very wealthy alphas out there who'd be interested in finding the true physical limit to how much this body of yours can take.” The man leaned down until his face was hovering just over Dean’s tensed shoulders, continuing to press down with his fist and squeeze the flesh of Dean’s lower belly between the hood of the car and his hard knuckles. “Has anyone ever told you about the Pit?” he asked almost conspiratorially.

“Hey there, chief,” a deep voice suddenly spoke up, and Dean raised his head and craned his neck with a twinge to see Benny ambling towards them across the sidewalk. His face was open and friendly, but there was steel in his eyes as he gazed at the alpha pinning Dean to the hood of the car. “Hate to interrupt, but I'm kinda waitin’ on that omega. I'm his ride home, and I'm a little late as it is. You close to bein’ done?”

Dean felt his body relax as Benny approached and the older boy’s scent washed over him. He smelled possessive, just like his dad did when he didn't like that another alpha was using Dean. Possessive was always a safe scent: the only people that had ever wanted to keep him around after using him were people that loved him. It's not like Benny loved him, but he was Dean’s friend. And he was kind and gentle and Dean was so very happy to see that he hadn't left without him like Dean had told him he could.

“Oh, of course,” the older man said, sounding a little chagrined. The pressure inside of the young omega's body decreased as the alpha stopped grinding his knuckles against the car through Dean’s belly. “Apologies. I really ought to be going myself, or the wife will have a fit. My daughter’s mad enough at me as it is.”

He began to withdraw the closed fist from the clutching warmth of Dean’s slick hole. “Mmmh,” Dean whined as the round mass of it caught at his rim like a huge knot, pulling the sensitive skin taut and bulging. He could tell that the man was going to just keep pulling until the tiny pink cunt gave way, and he braced himself for the brief pain that would come with that stretch, but then Benny spoke up.

“It’ll be easier if you let go of the fist, chief.” Benny’s tone was still easy, the words spoken like a friendly suggestion, but there was an undercurrent there. Alphas always went easier on Dean when his dad was around – and even his little brother, sometimes – like having Dean’s family watching them made them hesitant to really treat him like they wanted to. If Benny could be a buffer like that, too, that would be so nice.

“Of course,” the man said, a little embarrassed. Dean felt the hand open inside him and the pressure pulling against his clutching entrance eased. The alpha’s hand slid out of his body with a wet noise, trailing a thick string of slick behind it. He pulled his other hand away from where it was pushing against Dean’s butt a moment later, and Dean began to slip down again, but Benny quickly stepped in.

“Appreciate it, chief,” Benny drawled, catching Dean around his waist and easily lifting him to set his feet down on the asphalt. Dean quickly got his balance and moved around to stand just behind Benny, eyes on the ground. “I really oughta be off, and you oughta get back to your daughter. Wouldn’t wanna keep you.”

Something about his words sounded mocking, but his face was so friendly that the alpha man just stammered another apology and returned to his car. Dean could hear his daughter say “Finally!” as her dad climbed into the driver’s seat; Benny, meanwhile, gently cupped his big hand around the back of Dean’s bowed head and guided him back onto the paved sidewalk before starting towards the parking lot.

Dean could feel the older boy’s thumb brush against the shell of his ear before his blunt fingernails scratched across his scalp a few times and the hand dropped down to settle on the top of Dean’s backpack.

“I’m. I’m sorry I made you so late,” Dean spoke up. He could feel his inner thighs sliding together with every step, slick still dripping out of his stretched cunt.

“Hey, you didn't make me anythin’, cher. I wouldn't have stuck around if I didn't want to. And besides,” he smiled down at Dean, “I ain't really late for nothin’. Just said that so he’d let you go and I could finally get some quality time with you, little brother.”

“Oh!” Dean said, allowing a pleased little smile to grace his sweet face. “That's. That's really smart.”

“I don't know about smart. Brains haven't ever really been my forté. I just know a thing or two about gettin’ other alphas to back down.”

Benny opened the passenger seat for Dean and then walked around to the driver’s side, letting Dean climb in and close the door behind him. Dean put his backpack down into the roomy footwell and then buckled his seatbelt.

When Benny was settled, he hesitated and drummed his fingers against the wheel. Dean cocked his head, watching the older boy look a little shy for the first time.

“I was thinkin’, cher, if your Alpha wouldn’t mind… Can I take you out for a treat on the way home?” Dean’s eyes widened a little, and Benny’s cheeks pinked. “It's just that I'd like to spend a little more time with you, is all.”

“Sure!” Dean answered, nodding excitedly. “I’ll call him and ask!”

Benny watched him with a tender little smile as the young omega pulled out his cell phone and dialed his father's number. His dad answered after just a few rings.

“Hey, kiddo, what's up?” came his dad’s voice over the line.

“Hi Dad, my friend Benny came to pick me up from school and I wanted to know if it's okay to hang out with him a little bit before coming home?” Dean spoke somewhat breathlessly, the excitement obvious in his tone. He’d never once asked to hang out with a friend before.

Dean waited with baited breath while he heard his father hum thoughtfully over the phone. He didn't think his dad would say no, but he wasn't sure. Sam was younger than Dean and he got to go play with his friends after school all the time; but then again, Sam was an alpha and Dean was an omega. So maybe the rules were different.

“That's fine with me, Dean. But let your friend know that if he's gonna be friends with my son, I expect to see him over for dinner sometime soon.”

“Yeah, I'll tell him,” Dean nodded happily.

“Alright, Deano. Be home in time for dinner.”

“Okay, Dad. Bye.” He hung up and turned to smile at Benny. “He says it's okay. But, um, he wants you to come over for dinner sometime. So he can meet you. Is that okay?” He twisted the hem of his shirt in his hands, suddenly worried that Benny didn't want to be his friend like that. Like the kind of friend that came over for dinner.

But Benny smiled and nodded. “Fine with me, cher.” He turned his key in the ignition and the truck rumbled to life. “How'd you feel about ice cream?”

—

There was a local ice cream parlor downtown near the main street. It was a popular spot for families and teenagers, especially in the warmer months when they could sit at the round tables that were arranged outside the tiny storefront to enjoy their dessert. Benny drove them there while they chatted about school and TV. Dean felt a little awkward and shy because he wasn't sure how to talk to a friend, but it ended up being almost the same as talking to Sam.

Dean and Benny both left their backpacks in the truck after parking. As they walked into the ice cream shop, Dean felt a little flustered at the eyes that fell on him. It was obvious that Benny wasn't Dean’s Alpha – the older boy was too young for that, yet – and Dean knew that it was quite rare to see an omega his age out and about without its owner. But he felt safe around Benny. And his dad had said it was okay.

“What can I get you?” the cheerful beta girl behind the counter asked Benny when the two stepped forward to eye the different flavors through the transparent glass barrier. “Would you like to try anything?”

Dean stared at the tubs of ice cream in front of him. This place always had six regular flavors and four rotating special flavors, and Dean liked the special flavors whenever Dad brought him and Sam. But the special flavor names were always printed as a graphic design – stylized font with a colorful picture background – and Dean was too stupid to read words when they were confusing like that. Dad already knew that, so he would always read the flavors aloud to Dean so he could choose.

“What are you thinkin’?” Benny asked him, and Dean felt his face heat up.

“Um, do they have rocky road?” he asked a little quietly, embarrassed. One of the special flavors looked like it could be rocky road, but he didn't want to assume and then be wrong and look like a dumb slut.

Benny didn't seem phased by the question. “They sure do. That what you want, little brother?” Dean nodded, and Benny smiled over the glass case at the employee. “Two scoops of rocky road, and three scoops of chocolate fudge brownie.”

The girl nodded and grabbed a scoop from the water bin. “Cup or a cone?”

“A cup,” Dean told Benny when the older boy looked down at him. He’d learned from experience that a cup was always better, since he could put it down if an alpha pulled him aside. He still remembered the time a few years ago when he'd dropped his ice cream cone when someone else’s alpha father had pulled him away from his dad and brother, and he'd embarrassingly cried like a baby for the whole time the man had fucked him.

Benny handed Dean his ice cream after paying at the register, then they both carried their cups outside to sit at one of the tables. Dean had a Captain America wallet that his dad had given him for his birthday that year, and he pulled it out of his pocket. The only thing he carried in it was his copy of his ownership card with his dad’s name and address on it, and the ten dollars of allowance he got every Sunday. He tried to offer a five-dollar bill to Benny, but the alpha waved it away.

“Don’t worry about it, cher. It's my treat. What's the use of havin’ a part-time job if I can't spend my money on a friend?”

Dean felt a flutter in his tummy and shifted a bit in his seat, smiling down at his ice cream as he put his money back in his wallet. “Thanks, Benny. That’s really nice.”

They ate their ice cream together, talking and getting to know each other more. Dean was pleased to find that Benny even laughed when he made dumb jokes. They were halfway through with their ice cream, both boys smiling, when suddenly Benny’s expression fell into something a little resigned and his posture stiffened, eyes fixed on something over the young omega’s shoulder. Dean turned in his seat to see what Benny was looking at and saw a group of three high school boys – two betas and one alpha – approaching their table from behind him, eyes fixed on Benny.

“I can barely believe my eyes, Lafitte,” the alpha of the group said when the three older boys had stopped at their table. The alpha was standing behind Dean, making the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck stand on end. “What’ll the rest of the team say when we tell them our captain skipped out on training to… What even is this? You babysitting a cumdump?”

Benny reached across the table to cover Dean’s small hand with his bigger one. “Training was optional today, Roman. You know that. So I'm just hangin’ out with my friend Dean here.” His shoulders were squared, sharp eyes looking up over the top of Dean’s head at his teammate.

“‘Friend’, huh? That's a funny way of saying ‘cocksleeve’.” The alpha leaned down, reaching over the back of Dean’s seat to rest his hands on the edge of the table, bracketing Dean in with his arms. Dean felt the older boy bury his nose in his hair and he tried to shrink away. “Hey, I recognize that scent. Isn't this the hole they had set up in the glory booth last week?”

The muscles in Benny’s jaw flexed. Dean just stared down into his ice cream.

“Dude, it has to be,” one of the beta boys said. “I recognize it too, but I can’t believe a hole that big and stretchy was attached to a sweet little thing like this. You have no idea how many fists I watched it take. Didn't you go back for thirds, Roman?”

“I tried to,” the alpha said, breath hot on the back of Dean’s neck, “But it had been unfortunately swapped out for a trash can by then, so I just threw away my leftover pizza instead.”

Dean flinched as a wave of anger flooded out from Benny, but the older boy’s hand just gently tightened over his own and his scent quickly softened.

“I don’t like alphas who treat omegas like that, Roman,” Benny said lowly, a warning note in his voice.

“That a threat, Lafitte?” Roman laughed, and then turned to his two beta teammates. He held out a ten-dollar bill to one of them. “Hey, mind getting me two scoops of vanilla in a sugar cone? Thanks. I wanna get to know our captain’s ‘friend’ a little better.”

The two smirking betas went to enter the shop; meanwhile, Roman was pulling Dean to his feet and then laying him out across the tabletop, much to Dean’s humiliation. Some of the people at the other tables were watching, but most were ignoring them. Either way, he still felt exposed.

He covered his red face with his hands while Roman undid the buttons of his omega pants and began to pull them down his hips. The slutty cunt between his legs was still slick and loose when the older boy thumbed at it, and to Dean’s shame he could feel it happily mouth at the alpha’s palm, begging to be filled.

Embarrassment and nervousness were so big in his chest that he could barely hear the ambient noise around him. Dean should be used to this by now; he was mostly used to his dad and Sam seeing him like this, and Benny had already seen him at his most disgusting and used. Dean didn't know what was wrong with him that just getting spread out on the table in front of his friend like this made him so embarrassed.

He just. He knew this was what his omega hole was for, but… He just didn't want his cunt to react like this to an alpha that Benny clearly didn't like. He hated that Benny was seeing how slutty his body was; he hated that his dad was right, that his hole would slick up for anyone and anything. A tiny part of him wanted the new alpha to just go ahead and punch into him like he had at the track meet and mess up his slutty cunt. To teach it a lesson. But he didn't think that Benny would be very pleased by that, either.

He just had to focus on being a good boy. Benny would be pleased by that.

“You use this cunt already, Lafitte?” Roman asked. He was using the pad of his thumb to spread the slick leaking out of Dean’s stretched hole all around the rim. “It’s all worn out, but I don't smell you on it.”

“No. I ain't used Dean like that.” Benny’s big hand settled on Dean’s forehead, just above where his fingers were covering his eyes. Dean made a little noise and turned his head towards the older boy, peeking through his fingers to see Benny glaring daggers at his alpha teammate.

“Fuck, Lafitte, you really are a bleeding heart. You never even visit the omega use room at school. It's a wonder you’ve never gone into rut; I can't imagine how you're getting your slick. Someone really has to teach you what an omega’s for.” Roman slid three fingers into Dean’s cunt, and Dean squeezed around them like people liked him to. “Good thing we came by when we did.”

“Rich!” one of the betas called. They'd both returned to the table. “Here’s your ice cream.”

Roman took his ice cream cone from his friend and then turned back to smile down at Dean. His naked legs were splayed, shirt rucked up to just above his belly button, sweet freckled face red with humiliation and still hidden behind his hands.

“Oh, it's not for me,” he said with a grin, and then he lowered the cone and touched the round top scoop of vanilla to the twitching pink of Dean’s lax omega hole.

“Nnnghh!” Dean whined at the shock of the frozen cream touching him down there. His legs instinctively tried to close to protect his sensitive parts from the cold, but the two betas each grabbed a knee and forced them wider open. As Roman continued to push the ice cream into him, Dean’s hands shot up to grab at Benny’s and pull it down from his forehead to his mouth. He pressed the older boy’s rough palm against his lips and squeezed his eyes shut; he felt Benny’s thumb brush along his cheek, and then Benny bent his head down to press a kiss to the little furrow between his eyebrows.

“It’s alright, cher,” Benny whispered into his ear. “I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

“C’mon, Lafitte. I didn't get the ice cream for the omega hole, either. I got it for you. Why don't you show us what this slutty little cunt is made for?”

“You wasted your money then, Roman. I ain't plannin’ on usin’ Dean like that.”

“Oh?” Roman pressed the ice cream into Dean’s little pink hole until the cone had halfway disappeared into the young boy’s squirming, whimpering body. “Well, if you're really not gonna use it, I can call a few of my alpha friends and we’ll just use it instead. For hours. Keep this hole busy ‘til the sun sets. Wear it out ‘til it can't even stand. I bet I could get two fists into this little slut at once. Couldn’t I, little hole?”

Dean didn't want to open his mouth, because if he did then he thought he might scream. He just nodded and hummed into Benny’s hand. The two scoops of ice cream inside him had been hard at first, but the surface had quickly melted from the heat of his body and now they slipped around at each quiver of his channel walls. The cold was so intense that it hurt, and it was spreading inside him; he could feel the cold leeching into him like a ghost, shocking his stomach and making him start to shiver.

“That's right, two hands would fit easy. Well, maybe not easy, but we'd get it done.” Roman chuckled and pulled the sugar cone out of the omega’s convulsing hole – leaving the ice cream scoops behind – and then took a bite from the slick-wetted edge. “So what do you say, captain? Give us a show, or I’ll call my friends and we’ll give you one.”

Benny was quiet. The bones of his hand shifted slightly under Dean’s fingers. His other hand came to rest on the bared skin of Dean’s belly, a hot brand there where the skin was cool from the ice cream underneath it.

Dean couldn't take it. He didn't want to have to bear the shame of his horrible, slutty body getting off to Roman and however many other alphas he called to join in. He didn't want to be stuck here for hours and hours. He just wanted to hang out with his new friend like a regular boy.

But Dean wasn't a regular boy. He was a fucktoy.

He felt his eyes well with tears and then lifted the older boy’s hand from over his mouth and clutched it to his chest. “B-Benny, p-p-please,” he whimpered, and the alpha boy let out a breath.

One moment, Dean was laid out beside his friend, the two betas spreading his legs and Roman toying with his cunt; in the next, it was only Benny between his legs instead, his knees slung over the older boy’s shoulders while Benny hovered over him. He gazed down at Dean’s face with dark eyes, the thumb of each hand hooked into his chilled hole.

“Benny,” Dean squeaked. Without the beta boys holding his legs open, his knees tightened around the alpha’s shoulders and his cunt clenched and spasmed, trying to rid itself of the biting cold inside.

“You're freezing, cher,” Benny whispered, voice thick and rough. He pressed his fingers in and Dean felt them stir around; the ice cream had softened but was still solid and there, a chilling presence that made Dean want to cry. Benny pulled one hand out and reached up to run a finger coated in vanilla cream across Dean’s plush pink lips before sliding it into the younger boy's mouth until he started to suck.

“I'm gonna warm you up.” He leaned down and pressed his lips up against Dean’s ear, his rumbling voice and hot breath sending a shiver of pleasure all the way down to between the omega’s legs. “Alright, little brother? They want a show, so I'm gonna show them how a real alpha treats a good boy like you.”

Benny pressed his lips to Dean’s earlobe and then trailed wet, firm kisses down the side of his neck. The stubble on his jaw left tingles on Dean’s soft skin, and the older boy paused with his mouth right near Dean’s scent gland and deeply inhaled. He kissed Dean’s neck again and then tongued at it gently before opening his mouth and biting the crook of the younger boy’s neck.

That made Dean shiver, and an impossible pulse of heat bloomed in his frozen channel. Benny wasn't kissing him like his dad did; Dad kept his kisses fatherly, mostly only using his tongue on Dean’s face and mouth and public parts. Benny was kissing Dean like the handsome cowboys in the movies kissed their sweethearts. He felt his cheeks blush red, but not from humiliation this time… He felt his heart begin to race. He couldn't believe that Benny was kissing him like this.

Dean’s shy little cunt pulsed, melted vanilla cream dripping down and onto the pavement beneath him.

Benny’s teeth tightened on his neck for just a second before he pulled away and then soothingly kissed the slight impressions that they'd left on his pale skin. The finger that Dean was still sucking – he'd nearly forgotten that he'd had something in his mouth – withdrew from between his lips, and Dean made a little upset noise. Benny’s hand went to his stomach, brushing tenderly along the bruises that were blooming on his belly where the alpha man from earlier had ground it down into the car hood. Then, the older boy’s rough palm slid up and underneath Dean’s rumpled shirt to easily cup his heaving ribs, thumb circling the stiff peak of his rosy nipple.

His hand was hot. His mouth was hot, too. Dean felt it continue to kiss and nip at his neck, and he tilted it into Benny’s mouth and hummed. The stretched hole between his legs was swallowing around the fingers of Benny’s other hand and his toes were curling over the alpha’s shoulders.

“Such a good boy,” Benny mumbled into his neck. “This is how good boys like you deserve to be treated.”

“Nnh,” Dean whimpered, and felt tears stream down the side of his face. He blinked his eyes open and saw the blue sky above him, and Benny’s hair, the older boy’s face still nuzzling at his exposed neck.

“Oh, cher,” Benny whispered into his soft skin. “Are you feelin’ good right now?” He turned his head and inhaled deeply again at Dean’s scent gland, and his big hand tightened around Dean’s ribs and his fingers stuttered inside Dean’s hole and he let out a deep, appreciative moan. It was as if the strong, concentrated scent of Dean – not of his slick, but of that smell that was just him – was what Benny liked. What he wanted more of.

Benny began to pump his fingers in and out of Dean’s slick pink hole, and Dean could feel his insides getting warmer, a pleasant feeling that was spreading down from his chest to his core. Benny pulled away from his neck and gazed down at him; his eyes were dark and heavy-lidded, lips red and wet, and the possessive scent from earlier was thick and heavy around them. It made Dean feel safe. Protected.

“Look at him,” Benny said, and Dean remembered that Benny was doing all of this to him in front of three of his track teammates and the ice cream parlor. “God, you ever seen anythin’ like him before?”

He pulled his hand away from Dean’s twitching hole and raised his vanilla-coated fingers to the boy's lips, and without hesitation Dean opened his mouth and began to lick Benny’s sticky hand clean. Like a little kitten; pretending that he was something soft and cute that deserved to be treated nice. Benny smiled down at him, and Dean met his gaze from underneath fluttering eyelashes.

“Somethin’ so sweet?” Benny whispered, dipping his vanillacream fingers into Dean’s mouth and stroking across his soft palate. Dad had been making sure that Dean was practicing sucking his dildos, so he didn't gag but opened wide for the alpha’s hand, tongue lolling out over his plush lower lip. “Folks see somethin’ this good and they wanna hurt it, ‘cause they don't like how it makes them feel about themself. But breakin’ a mirror don’t make your reflection disappear.”

“Whatever, Lafitte,” Roman sneered, but he sounded more uncomfortable than disparaging. “Leave it to you to make using an omega fleshlight so fucking nauseating. I think I threw up in my mouth a little.”

Dean turned his face away from the other boys to hide in the spit-wet palm of Benny’s hand. The older boy shushed him, using his other hand to thumb at Dean’s nipple, making him shudder.

“Ignore them, cher,” Benny said, leaning over to nip at his neck again. His hand went back down to dip into Dean’s sweet, cream-filled center. “Just focus on me.” Dean clenched around three of the older boy’s fingers, melted ice cream blurting thickly out around them. “That’s right, little brother. You're doin’ so good.”

“C’mon, Rich, let’s just go,” one of the beta boys said.

“Might as well.” As Roman and his two friends began to walk away, the alpha cast a scathing glance back at Benny. “I can always use that slut during my lunch break later this week, anyway.”

A low growl rumbled in Benny’s chest and he shifted, grabbing hold of Dean’s hips and suddenly sinking to his knees in front of Dean to bury his face between his legs, licking the remaining ice cream from Dean’s little pink cunt like a starving man while his three teammates walked away.

“Benny!” Dean mewled, his hands flying down to rest in the alpha’s short-cropped hair while his thighs tightened around Benny’s head. They’re gone, he wanted to say. You can stop now. But if this was what Benny wanted, then Dean would let him.

He could feel the older boy’s nose nudging behind his little balls, the flat of his teeth sliding against the swollen skin of his used entrance, the hot muscle of his tongue delving inside him. Dean fell back, heaving, gasping for breath as he stared up at the sky. He was dizzy with the wet intimacy of the older boy’s mouth devouring that shameful place.

Other alphas sometimes stuck their tongue inside, but no one other than his dad and Uncle Bobby had ever eaten him up like this. And the other track boys weren't even there anymore; Benny wasn't putting on a show. He was just doing it because he wanted to use Dean like that. Use him the way his family did. Dean let out a dry, helpless sob and reached up to cross both arms over his eyes.

And suddenly, Benny had pulled away. The warmth of his big hands and hungry mouth were gone, leaving the young omega shivering and debauched; spread out on the grated table with his lovely pink hole wet and flushed and gaping, obscenely drooling thick vanilla cream onto the ground.

“B-Benny?” Dean asked breathlessly, confused. He felt his open cunt pulse hungrily, and struggled to focus his dazed eyes. Benny was still there, barely a few inches away, staring down at Dean with eyes that were nearly black. Dean could smell something dark and heavy on his scent. He trailed his gaze down the older boy’s broad, heaving chest to see an aching hardness caged in the alpha’s denim jeans.

Blushing and nervous, Dean bit his lip and lowered his hands between his legs to spread open his throbbing hole. It twitched and fluttered, oozing white cream and clear slick. It was filthy and slutty and Dean didn't think it was very good – certainly not good enough for an alpha as kind as Benny – but he would make it as good for him as he could.

“Thank you,” Dean said quietly. He knew that Benny hadn’t wanted to use him; he’d said so, said he wasn’t planning on using him like that. But he’d done it anyway, just for Dean. “For being so nice and using me so the other boys wouldn’t.” He saw a flicker of something cross the alpha’s face and swallowed nervously. “I'll be. I'll be a good boy for you, Benny. I will, I’ll be real good for you.”

Benny closed his eyes and turned away for a moment, covering his lower face with one of his big hands and taking deep, controlled breaths through his mouth. Dean wilted a little. Did... Did he not smell good anymore? He tightened his fingers where they were gripping on either side of his entrance and felt his lower lip wobble. But then, Benny sighed and turned back to him with a tender, if somewhat forced, smile.

“Oh, cher. You've already been such a good boy for me. I don't need anythin’ more from you today, I promise.”

He reached down and helped Dean to sit up; there was a soft, wet plop as the rest of the melty ice cream slipped out of his omega hole and fell underneath the table. Dean still felt cold inside and a shiver wracked his body; Benny noticed and pulled him close. He sat back down in his chair and pulled Dean into his lap, enveloping him in his big strong arms. Dean could feel Benny’s hardness underneath him through the barrier of the alpha’s jeans; he shifted his hips a little and Benny rutted up between his legs for only a second before forcing himself to stop, swallowing a moan.

“I’m sorry,” Dean apologized into the older boy’s chest. He wasn't sure what he'd done wrong. Benny’s cock was so hard and yet he didn't want to use Dean’s body to relieve himself. Was it really too unappealing?

“You ain't got nothin’ to be sorry for, cher.”

Dean nuzzled his face against the older boy’s collarbone and felt Benny’s chin settle on top of his head. He felt like he always had something to be sorry for, when he was getting used. He was sorry for being a nuisance and a burden when people had to wait for him to be finished with. He was sorry for needing to be taken care of, sometimes, afterwards. He was sorry for his hole being too tight to easily fit what they wanted to put inside him, then sorry for being too loose to feel good and squeeze around their cock. He was sorry for getting so sloppy and messy. Sorry for his slick-addled brain thinking that he didn't like it, and sorry for his slutty body liking it too much.

But Benny had told him that he had nothing to be sorry for. At least, not right then; not to Benny. So maybe he didn't.

The arms around him were so warm. Benny held Dean tightly, quietly, for several long minutes. Dean closed his eyes and let himself feel the rise and fall of the older boy’s chest against the side of his face, the persistent hardness of the alpha’s cock underneath him. He pretended for a little bit that the two of them were alone instead of being in public. He thought it would be nice to be alone somewhere with Benny.

“My, um, my hole is getting your pants dirty.” He spoke softly, words almost disappearing into Benny’s shirt. He could feel his loose hole curiously mouthing at the denim barrier between it and Benny’s hard length, smearing leftover vanilla over the front of the alpha’s pants.

Benny chuckled and pulled away from Dean’s hair. He raised a hand to put his knuckles under Dean’s chin and tilted his face up until he was gazing warmly into the young omega’s wide green eyes. With a smile, he leaned down and softly kissed Dean on the lips. A shiver rippled through Dean’s body, but this time not from cold, and his lips parted to let out a soft little sound.

“Small price to pay for gettin’ to have a friend like you, cher,” Benny murmured against his mouth, and Dean’s eyes slipped closed as he leaned into his friend’s embrace.

Chapter 14: Depth Training

John and his boys had a new nightly routine.

Shortly after their eventful trip to the park, John had gone to the hardware store to buy some large screw-eye tie-down hooks that he'd carefully installed in the living room ceiling above the couch. They were in just the right position to hang Dean’s swing so that, when bound up in it, the young omega hung just above the center cushion. This allowed Sam and John to sit on either side of him while they watched TV and Dean worked on his new special training.

One night, about a week after introducing the new exercises, John made spaghetti and meatballs for dinner. After the three Winchesters had finished their food, John sent his sons to the bathroom to wash the red sauce off of their faces and then, when they returned, began to ready Dean while Sam picked a show.

“C’mon, Deano, let’s get you set up,” he told his son while he laid out the leather swing on the rug in front of the couch. Dean bit his lip and his sweet freckled cheeks reddened.

“Okay, Dad,” he said, and came over to him to lie down on the swing and let his Alpha start doing up his restraints. They'd started the new exercise just that week, and he was still a little shy and nervous about it.

John wrapped the padded leather cuffs around his omega son’s wrists, ankles, and upper arms, as well as just above his knees and just below the hinge of his hips. He tightened them until they were snug but not uncomfortable.

“Anything too tight, kiddo?” he asked, and Dean shook his head.

Next, various lengths of leather connectors were used to properly affix him to the swing so that he wouldn’t slide down when John suspended him. Short connectors fastened the thigh cuffs to the D-rings on the swing near his hips, and his upper arm cuffs to those at his shoulders. Then, the ankle cuffs were connected to the back of his thigh cuffs with double clasps.

All four straps of the swing had rows of D-rings to allow for any configuration of connecting and fastening. John didn't have to tell his son the next step anymore; Dean raised his arms above his head, parallel to where John had spread out the upper straps of the swing, and John used two more double clasps to connect the boy's wrist cuffs to the nearest D-ring. The top of his ankle cuffs were connected to D-rings on the lower straps as well, to share the weight with his thigh cuffs when the swing was elevated. Finally, a narrow, lightweight spreader bar was fastened his knee cuffs, which would keep his legs nicely parted.

“Alright, Dean.” He leaned down and kissed his son’s forehead and then teased him a little by wiggling his pointer finger just past the entrance of the omega’s slick hole, making Dean squirm and huff out a little noise. “Time for the fun part.”

John effortlessly picked Dean up off of the rug and then set him down on the center cushion of the worn leather couch, his rear against the back cushion and his head hanging backwards over the edge of the seat. Humming a little to himself the way that he sometimes did at the shop, John began to carefully tie the ends of the rope that he’d already looped through the eye bolts in the ceiling around the O-rings at the end of each strap of the swing.

“I wanna watch Malcolm in the Middle,” Sam announced from in front of the TV where he'd been scrolling through his options. At Dean’s crestfallen expression, John shook his head.

“That's Dean’s show too, Sammy. Why don't you pick something that Dean doesn't like while he's doing his exercises, and we can watch Malcolm in the Middle after.”

Sam sighed heavily. “Fine. We can watch National Geographic.” He turned around and walked up to the couch where he sank down to his knees in front of his brother’s upside-down face. “That okay, Dean?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Sammy.”

Sam grinned and then took his big omega brother’s cheeks between both hands and delivered a wet, smacking kiss to Dean’s mouth.

“Mwah!” he said. “Mwah! Mwah! Mwah!” He delivered several more to Dean’s cheeks and nose while his older brother scrunched up his face and tried to pull away from his grip.

“Gross, Sammy! Dad!”

John still felt warmth blossom in his chest every time he heard Dean casually call him ‘Dad’. He hadn't realized how important that name was to him, and how much he'd missed hearing it from his eldest son.

“Let your little brother kiss you if he wants to, sweetheart.”

In response, Sam continued to press slobbery kisses all over his brother’s face while Dean whined. John just chuckled and shook his head while he finished up the final loop and then pulled the ropes tight. 

The straps of the swing quickly lifted and stretched taut as John continued to winch the ropes. He started with the rear straps, pulling up until Dean’s hips began to lift up off the couch, which tugged his face out of Sam’s grabby hands as his little body was elevated until he was dangling upside-down, the top of his head pressing into the couch cushion beneath him. John switched over to winching up the front straps and Dean’s upper body raised by his wrists and shoulders slightly so that, instead of hanging with his head directly underneath his feet, Dean was at just enough of an incline to safely maintain the position for over an hour without risking any negative health outcomes. Just to be safe, though, John never kept him hanging like that for longer than forty-five minutes.

“Get the big pillow, Sammy,” John told his youngest, and the little alpha went to the wall where a wooden chest housed their spare throw blankets and pillows. While Sam retrieved the big, squishy down pillow that they would put under Dean’s head so that his neck wouldn't be strained, John brought over the rest of Dean’s gear: a padded blindfold, noise-canceling earphones, and one of his ring gags.

“Dad, I don't need that stuff. I promise.” Dean gazed at him upside-down with his big green eyes.

“I know you don't think so, kiddo,” he said sympathetically, “But remember how you felt after the first time? How strained your eyes were and how bad the headache was?”

The first night they'd attempted this exercise, Dean had watched the movie with them while he was suspended, but trying to watch it upside-down had made him sick. Since then, John had been blindfolding him to remove the strain on his eyes and plugging his ears with the earphones so that he wouldn't feel disappointed by being able to hear but not see what John and Sam were watching.

“Yeah. I know. Sorry.”

“That's alright, baby. I know you don't like it, but it's for your own good.”

“Okay. But why do I need a gag this time?” he asked forlornly. John raised an eyebrow at him and he averted his eyes. “Sorry. Never mind, it’s okay.”

John gently poked the earphones into Dean’s ears first, and then wrapped the padded blindfold around his face. The wide straps covered his ears as well, holding the earphones in place. 

“Can you see anything?” John asked. Dean shook his head. His luscious pink lower lip was trembling, just slightly. John leaned forward to kiss that sweet pout. He swallowed the keening noise that rose from deep in his son's chest and then couldn't help but nibble on Dean’s lip a bit, sucking it into his mouth for just a moment and then licking at the hard line of Dean’s lower teeth before pulling away, leaving the young boy’s lips a little swollen and spit-slick.

“Alright, sweetheart. Open up, it's time for the gag.” Obediently, Dean opened his mouth wide and allowed his father to slip the O-ring gag into place and strap it around his head. “Sammy, you got Dean’s pillow?”

“Yeah,” Sam replied, holding the big pillow up in front of him with both arms. John cupped the back of Dean’s head in his hands and lifted it up to allow Sam to wriggle the pillow underneath his head and upper back. When John let go of his son’s head, it settled back comfortably onto the pillow, easing any strain.

“You feeling any pain or discomfort, Dean?” John asked, and after a moment Dean shook his head.

“Uh-uh,” he said through the ring gag.

“That's good. Headphones are turning on, now, kiddo. I'll turn them off and let you down in forty minutes.”

The headphones were paired with John’s phone; he switched on the noise-canceling function and then selected Dean’s white noise playlist from his Spotify. John could tell that the headphones were working because Dean’s body visibly tensed. 

“Can you hear me, Dean?” John asked. Dean made no movement or sound; the headphones were working perfectly.

“Can I measure him?” Sam asked eagerly, and John nodded as he opened up the box of Dean’s new training tools. 

Inside the box were several sets of weighted Ben Wa balls and an eighteen-inch long silicone dildo. The dildo was only about two inches in diameter – a girth that Dean's cock-hungry little hole could take easily with minimal prep – and had markings all the way up one side like a ruler that showed the length in inches. 

Sam took the floppy dildo in one hand and climbed up onto the couch beside his brother. With his free hand, he rubbed his flat palm in circles on Dean’s pink little entrance, stimulating it and making the captive omega wiggle, before studiously poking three fingers inside and scissoring them a bit. Much to John’s pride, Sam was becoming a very thoughtful alpha, and recently he’d begun to always try to stretch his big brother a little before doing anything.

“That's it, sweet baby,” he heard Sam whisper softly to the little cunt that he was fingering. “You're so slick. Just for me.” He'd started mimicking some more of the things that he heard John say to Dean while using him. John thought it sounded pretty cute coming from the little alpha’s mouth.

After a minute of that, Sam raised the dildo and, with both hands clasped around the length – one near the middle and one a bit higher up – he carefully lined up the head with the slick entrance and then fed the long toy down into his big brother’s pink hole.

“Aannh,” Dean moaned through his gag as his slutty little cunt easily swallowed up the measuring tool. His body flexed a little bit, making him sway slightly in the swing and the connector clasps click against the D-rings. Sam ignored it and continued to push the dildo down and down until it had sunk fully into the young omega’s clutching channel and the head was nestled in the silky heat of its dead end. Then, Sam tried to shove it in a little further, just to make sure that he'd really hit the bottom.

“Uhng!” Dean protested, and Sam traced his fingers around the invading silicone tool and along the twitching rim of the captive hole in apology.

“How deep is it today, Sammy?” John asked, hand poised with a pen over the little notebook he'd been updating before and after every exercise.

Sam cocked his head and leaned forward to read the markings on the dildo, and then smiled excitedly and turned to look at his father.

“Eight and three-fourths!” he exclaimed. “That’s longer than last time, right?”

John wrote down the number and smiled. “Sure is, Sammy. By a whole eighth of an inch.”

They were measuring the depth of Dean’s omega hole both before and after each stretching exercise to see how well the depth training was working. While the slutty little cunt had gained a little post-exercise depth, by the following day it had always been back to where it had started at eight and five-eighths inches deep. This was the first day that the unstretched, resting depth of that precious hole had increased.

Feeling a little childish and giddy with the progress himself, John put the notebook aside and leaned over to take one of Dean’s rosy pink nipples in his mouth and suck on it tenderly, pinching and plucking at the other one with his fingers. Dean mewled and squirmed, not knowing why his father was doing it and not realizing that it was celebratory, and his hungry cunt pulsed and clenched around the dildo still wedged inside it.

“Ahh-ee?” Daddy? Dean asked through the gag, and John circled his son’s nipple with his tongue and then closed his teeth around it and bit down gently. “Uhhngh,” Dean whimpered. At the same time, Sam began to pull the dildo slightly out of his big brother's hole and then thrust it back in, slowly pumping the floppy tool until slick was blurting out around it with every thrust, forcing punched little “Uh uh uh”s out of his brother’s gaping mouth.

John finally pulled away from his son’s chest. The nipple he'd been teasing with his fingers was hard, a stiff little pink nub, while the one that he'd had in his mouth was wet and cherry-red and swollen. He flicked it fondly with his finger, making Dean twitch and yelp, and then turned back to the tool box for a few of the Ben Wa balls.

The balls were mirror-polished stainless steel; smooth, hard, and cold. John picked up one ball – it was two inches in diameter just like the dildo and weighed a little over a pound – and rolled it around in his palms to warm it up.

“Alright, Sammy, can't sit around fucking him all night. He needs to do his exercises.”

“Okay, Dad.” Sam continued to stir up Dean’s insides for just another couple of seconds, shaking the floppy dildo in tiny circles that made the sweet pale flesh of his brother’s inner thighs shake and his little balls bounce around, before finally withdrawing the almost-nine inches that had been buried in the trembling hole with a wet schlick. John took the dripping-wet dildo from Sam’s hands, exchanging it for the hand-warmed steel ball. Sam quickly deposited it into the slightly-gaping cunt in front of him, pushing it past the loosened tightness of the rim until it fell, heavy, into the slick pink depths.

“Uhhn!” Dean gasped. John, who'd been warming a second ball in his hands, handed it up to Sam, who again pressed it firmly past his brother’s quivering entrance. At the sensation of the smooth metal against his slippery rim, Dean let out a high-pitched little whine; when it fell inside, there was an audible click as it knocked heavily against the first ball and Dean wiggled in his restraints and groaned.

Sam petted the slick rim of his big brother's hole. He was staring down at it; at the way it flared and mouthed at his palm, at the way the silky pink walls just past it clenched around the weights inside.

“One more, Sammy,” John said, holding out a third ball. Sam’s eyes widened.

“Really?” For the past week of the exercises, they'd only been giving Dean the two balls; a little under two and a half pounds. John hadn't planned on giving him more than that today, but the visible progress on Dean’s depth training made him excited. He wanted to test him further, to see how much he could take. 

“Yeah, Sammy. Your brother’s pretty tough, I know he can take it.”

He handed Sam the third Ben Wa ball. The two-inch balls already inside of Dean were the smallest size in the set that John had bought, which came in pairs, meaning that the third ball was a size up. It was only a fourth of an inch bigger in diameter, but that made it weigh nearly two pounds.

Sam took it and looked at it reverently as he hovered it over Dean’s hole. John watched his alpha son stare down into his older brother’s slick depths. The little alpha watched the channel shiver and flex, and then when it flared wide for a moment on one of Dean’s shaky inhales, he dropped the ball quickly into the gasping mouth of it.

The loud click of the collision punched another moan out of Dean’s open mouth. The swing swayed as his body arched as if trying to escape the added weight.

“Aaahhn,” Dean sobbed, shaking his head. His knees struggled to close, but the spreader bar wouldn't let them. Instead, he simply jerked around. “Ahh-ee,” he whimpered.

“Shh, baby, I’m right here,” John murmured even though his son couldn't hear him. He cupped Dean’s face in his hands and traced the line of his plush lips with his thumbs. Dean let out a shuddery whine and relaxed, allowing his body to hang limply on the swing and his head to sink back onto the pillow beneath him.

“How much weight is that, Dad?” Sam asked. He was fiddling with Dean’s fluttering rim, plucking at it and dipping his fingers inside to feel the heavy metal ball that was resting on the top of the stack. 

“Just about four and a half pounds, Sammy.” John spoke straight into Dean’s gaping mouth, and watched Dean swallow the wet heat of his words. He stuck both thumbs into his son’s mouth through the ring gag.

The strained pink cunt gulped around Sam’s fingers as though begging him to reach inside and lift the balls out, but Dean himself had settled down, muscles lax with submission as John’s thumbs stroked across his tongue. The only sign of the burden on his body were the barely perceptible trembling in his abdomen and thighs and the way that his fingers were clenched into fists, his toes curled. John’s beautiful omega boy was so strong that sometimes it truly amazed him.

“Alright, Sammy,” John said after a few moments of feeling Dean’s wet tongue on the pads of his thumbs. “Ready to watch National Geographic?”

John retrieved one of Dean’s oral training dildos while Sam selected a nature show to watch, and then the two alphas settled comfortably onto the couch on either side of their restrained omega. Sam leaned over to rest against the warm softness of Dean’s naked hip and began to play with his brother’s swollen nipple with one hand as the show started. John pressed himself against Dean as well, making sure his young omega son could feel as much of his body as he could. Dean’s sensory deprivation was not meant to be a punishment, so it was important that he and Sam give him plenty of physical affection so that he knew that they cared and hadn't left him alone.

His arm went around Dean’s rear, big hand settling on the globe of his ass and thumb stroking between his legs. John began to affectionately finger his son’s upturned hole, absent-mindedly tracing around it and delving into the hot silky depths as he readied the oral training dildo in his other hand. John had combined Dean’s oral training with his depth training so that his son wouldn't lose any free time with the addition.

John tapped the narrow training dildo against Dean’s cheek first, to alert him of what was coming, before inserting the bulbous head into his boy’s mouth through the gag. Dean’s tongue raised instinctively to meet it, but John pushed past the little blockade until the silicone tool was nudging against the back of his son’s throat. The dildo was quite slender – only one inch in diameter – and Dean had been able to take it that far back without gagging for many weeks now. It had taken him a few additional days of relearning how not to gag while upside-down and full from dinner.

Typically, John didn't gag Dean for his oral training as he was meant to focus on learning how to suck to please an alpha. Tonight, however, John had planned to introduce his son to deepthroating, and he knew that the gag would make it easier on him.

Dean’s little pink cunt was sucking around his fingers, the sweet sensation making John's cock swell as he carefully pushed the narrow dildo further into his son’s mouth. There was some resistance at first, and Dean’s throat worked a bit, tongue circling and pressing back against the silicone even as John could tell that his boy was trying hard to relax his throat and let the dildo enter. Dean’s tongue had as much a mind of its own as his slutty omega hole did.

Finally, Dean tilted his head back slightly and let out a wet little cough, and his throat opened enough for John to feed the head of the dildo inside. After the initial breech, inserting the tool was easy; within moments, three inches had disappeared into the wet hole. John waited for a second to make sure that Dean didn't begin to gag, and then fed him three more inches. Dean’s hungry little cunt clenched down tight around his fingers, and John leaned over to kiss and suck on the underside of his son’s trembling thigh.

While Sam’s chosen nature documentary played onscreen, John continued to train Dean’s body. He thrust the training dildo in and out of his son’s tight wet throat, alternating his rhythm and speed. First, he went almost achingly slow, pushing the dildo down and down until Dean was swallowing around all eight inches of it; then, tugging it ever-so-slowly all the way back out until Dean could take several heaving breaths and his tongue was pushing against the bulbous head again. John amped up the speed, however, until he was sawing the dildo in and out of his son’s throat with the speed of a jackhammer, making him gag just a little as he struggled to breathe between thrusts.

“Y’see that, Sammy?” John asked quietly, drawing Sam’s attention away from the TV screen and to his big brother’s throat. Despite how skinny the dildo was, there was obvious movement there while John pumped it in and out of him. “Go ahead and feel it.”

Sam reached out and rested his hand on Dean’s bared neck. He squeezed around it just slightly to feel the small bulge as the dildo fucked into it. Dean huffed out a breath through his nose, his fingers curling and uncurling where they were bound to the straps of the swing, and shifted his shoulders slightly.

“Wow,” Sam breathed.

“Looks like your brother’s face-hole is pretty cock-hungry, too,” John told Sam as he noticed fondly that his omega son’s cock was hard and dripping down onto his rippling stomach. “We’ll have to size up on his oral training soon so he can take my cock down his throat just like this.” He paused in his thrusting, leaving the long dildo fully wedged inside Dean’s throat, and laid his palm atop Sam’s hand so that they could both feel the inexperienced upper hole flexing around the intrusion. “His slutty body really needs it.”

Dean let them keep their hands on his neck like that for a solid minute before his lungs began to protest and his body started to twitch as he struggled. John smoothly pulled the dildo out of his throat with a wet noise and Dean coughed and retched, tears streaming out of his covered eyes and soaking into the blindfold.

“Ahh-ee?” Dean whimpered softly, and John comfortingly filled the absence that the dildo had left in that slutty face-hole with three of his fingers. They filled the ring gag completely, and John slid them in up to his knuckles and let them rest heavily on Dean’s tongue. Dean sighed and then settled, breathing through his nose. He swallowed every so often as the saliva that John’s fingers were stimulating pooled at the back of his throat, though some began to leak out of the corners of his stretched lips. John swiped at the wet trickles with his thumb, smearing them across his son’s freckled cheek.

John withdrew the fingers of his other hand from Dean’s drooling cunt and then took the spit-slick training dildo and fed it into the weighted hole. It was stopped by the heaviest Ben Wa ball about halfway down, but – though it took a bit of maneuvering – John managed to squeeze it past the steel balls, eliciting a strained grunt from Dean, until the dildo slid all the way inside and the omega’s lovely pink rim closed around the base. 

Satisfied with his son’s training for the time being, John relaxed back against the couch with one arm slung over the backrest. After a few minutes, he pulled his fingers out of Dean’s mouth and used them to play with the boy’s nipple, pinching and tugging at it, trying to get it to swell and match the cherry-redness of the one that Sam was still messing with.

When the credits rolled, John sat up and stretched his arms over his head.

“Okay, time to get you right-side up,” he said to his deafened son, “And to get you right-side down,” he added humorously to the stuffed pink cunt.

“Dad? Can I try something first?” Sam asked, and John checked his watch. It had been just over forty minutes, so there was technically still plenty of buffer.

“What do you wanna try?” John asked curiously, and Sam grinned and bounced up onto his feet on the couch again and reached out to grab hold of his big brother’s hard-on.

“Just watch!” he exclaimed, and began to stroke his hand along the length of Dean’s cock. Sam knew how to make his brother come, and he always got this serious little frown of concentration while he did it, no matter what his mood was. 

After a few minutes of stroking, Dean’s thighs tensed and quivered and his hole throbbed and clenched around the dildo poking out of it. The young omega was panting through his gag, and slick was welling thickly up around the dildo and dripping down along the crease of his legs. He was so close; Sam reached up with his other hand, grabbed the base of the narrow dildo, and thrust it three times into his big brother's poor cunt in time with the strokes along Dean’s erect length, and with a keen and a curl of his toes, Dean came.

Sam’s serious expression melted into a beaming smile and he quickly turned to look down at Dean’s face. With the hand he had on his brother’s cock, he corrected the aim of Dean’s load until the omega was shooting his clear cum straight into his own gaping mouth.

“Ahh!” Dean gasped and then sputtered, coughing, as his slick spurted down his throat. His first instinct was to turn his face away, and he started to do so before freezing and then moving his mouth back in line with Sam’s aim like a good boy. A little of his cum had gotten on his face, and it clung thickly to the curve of his lower lip and in a curving stripe across his cheek. Sam watched, eyes locked on the dark shadows and shifting wet pinkness of his omega brother’s open mouth. John watched Sam, bemused, and softly petted Dean’s inner thigh and kissed his knee while Dean spasmed through his aftershocks and struggled to swallow his own cum.

“That was cool,” Sam finally said after Dean was done. He released his brother's softening cock and petted it and his little balls a few times. Dean’s spent cock gave a valiant twitch. “I like making him spurt.” He continued to gaze down at Dean’s face; the omega had settled down again, muscles lax, waiting for whatever the alphas decided came next. “Dad? I really like it when Dean’s like this.”

“Like what, kiddo?” John pulled the slender training dildo out of his eldest son’s hole and then began to adjust the ropes, winching up one side to raise up Dean’s head. Sam reached out to poke a few fingers into his brother’s slick little cunt to plug it up while the swing gradually straightened out and then began to overbalance in the other direction, putting Dean at a steep incline again but this time with his cunt pointed towards the ground. Sam’s hand between the omega’s spread legs, plugging up his hole, kept the steel balls inside him.

“Like this, where he can't see or hear me and he can't move. It makes me feel like I'm the big brother and I'm in charge of him.”

John nodded. “I think I know what you mean, Sam. I like taking care of Dean, too. But you're not in charge of him; just his hole.”

“I know, Dad,” Sam said with the cute seriousness of an elementary-schooler. “I just like feeling like it sometimes.”

John smiled and picked up the small plastic bowl that he had brought from the kitchen earlier. He handed it to Sam, then pulled his phone out of his pocket and pulled up his clock app to use the stopwatch.

“Ready, Sam?” John asked. Sam nodded. “Okay, now.”

Sam pulled his fingers out of Dean’s cunt, unplugging the stuffed hole at the same time that John started the stopwatch. Quickly, Sam held the plastic bowl underneath the omega’s dripping entrance, which had immediately clenched tight to keep hold of its contents.

Despite Dean’s effort – and John could feel the boy’s pelvic muscles tensing hard under his hand as Dean strained to hold the weights inside – the largest Ben Wa ball quickly slipped out of his hole and into the waiting bowl, along with a fair bit of slick. Sam kept the bowl hovering below the struggling little cunt, and John idly rubbed his hand over Dean’s lower abdomen while they waited for the next two.

It had taken less than ten seconds for the first ball to fall out, but Dean managed to hold onto the final two for almost two minutes before the muscles of his omega hole gave way and let them clack down into the bowl one after the other. John was so proud of his son; he knew that the sensory deprivation made holding the balls inside him even more mentally draining, but Dean had done it. He'd even beaten his record despite the addition of a third ball.

Dean was breathing heavily from the work-out. His face and chest were flushed from all the time spent nearly upside-down, and his now-empty hole spasmed and twitched, flaring with relief and pouring out all of the slick that had pooled inside it over the past fifty minutes into the bowl with a splatter.

“Uhhn,” Dean moaned with a shiver as John leaned down and ghosted his lips across his sweat-damp torso until he closed them again around those luscious pink nipples.

“You did so good, sweetheart,” John mumbled around one swollen bud before moving to the other. “Such a good boy. Such a trooper.” Dean couldn't hear him, but John thought he understood what John was trying to tell him. He moved his mouth higher to lick the slick off of his son’s cheek and then his lip, before speaking again directly into his gaping mouth. “My strong, slutty little boy.”

The young omega keened lowly and leaned forward, trying to nuzzle into him, his body swaying in the swing. John kissed his nose and tweaked his nipples before pulling away to adjust Dean’s position for the final time while Dean whined at the loss of contact.

“You got the measuring dildo?” John asked his youngest. Sam had already put the mess-filled bowl on the coffee table to be cleaned later and was standing back up on the couch with the tool in hand. John lowered the upper straps of the swing until Dean was hanging nearly upside-down again, shaking his head and quivering in his restraints.

Seeing that his brother wanted to be finished with his training, Sam worked quickly and didn't tease, immediately plunging the long dildo into Dean's gaping entrance. He only pumped it in once, punching a hurt noise out of his brother as he shoved down to make sure that he'd really hit the bottom, and then checked the measurement.

“It’s eleven and a half inches, Dad!” Sam said excitedly. “Like, exactly eleven and a half!”

That was a whole quarter inch deeper than Dean’s stretched depth had been the previous night. And two and three quarter inches deeper than his hole had been when they started today. John couldn’t help but be in awe of his omega son’s incredible, slutty body.

With the training and measuring finally finished, Sam pulled the measuring tool out of Dean’s exhausted channel and John began to lower the boy’s body fully onto the couch. He removed the spreader bar first before undoing the rest of the restraints. Dean’s legs stayed spread in a butterfly position, though he brought his freed hands to cover his reddened, swollen nipples with his flat palms.

Free of all his restraints, Dean continued to lie there with his head flopped down over the edge of the big pillow, submissively waiting for his Alpha to be the one to remove his blindfold, earphones and ring gag. John stared at his son’s open mouth. Between those plush, sugar-sweet pink lips, the gaping wet hole was currently pointed straight at the hard line of John's cock in his sweatpants. He fantasized for just a moment, imagining pulling out his stiff length and thrusting it straight into Dean’s mouth and down his loosened throat. But it was just a fantasy; he didn't want to hurt his son. He would wait until Dean’s oral training had progressed enough and they could both fully enjoy it.

“Alright, kiddo,” John sighed, crouching down to remove the gag and blindfold and then pull out the earphones. Dean closed his mouth and licked his dry lips, blinking those shining, bright green eyes of his up at his father. He swallowed tentatively and pulled an adorable face at the lingering taste of silicone and cum in his mouth.

“Daddy?” he whispered, a little hoarsely. “Can I. Can I have some water?”

“Of course you can, sweetheart.” John smiled and helped his son shift around and sit up properly on the couch. He picked up the plastic sports bottle that he'd prepared from the coffee table and helped Dean guide the pull-top cap to his mouth. Dean closed his teeth and then his lips around the cap and John tilted the bottle up for him as he drank big, thirsty gulps.

“You're progressing!” Sam informed his brother excitedly after Dean was done and leaned, panting, against his father's warm side. “Your hole was already an eighth inch deeper before we even did anything today! And then we stretched you out to almost a whole foot! That's twelve inches, Dean. Like a Subway sandwich. Could you tell Dad added an extra ball?”

“Yeah,” Dean said softly and sniffled. “It was. Really heavy.”

“I'm really proud of you, Dean,” John told him. “You're really persevering. You broke your record on holding the first two weights in, too. By eight whole seconds. And you deepthroated for the first time today.” He ruffled his son’s dark blond hair. “My slutty superstar athlete.”

“You could be, like, in the Olympics!” Sam encouraged brightly. “Dad, are there competitions for omega holes?”

John hesitated for just a second. “No, Sammy,” he finally said, “Omega holes are too precious for that.” 

It was a little white lie; Dean was certainly too precious for John to ever enter his son’s omega hole into one of the torturous competitions that some Alphas considered ‘entertainment’, no matter how slutty it was.

John stood and kissed Dean’s forehead before gathering up the dirty tools and bringing them into the kitchen to sanitize.

“Are we watching Malcolm in the Middle now?” Sam called to him over the back of the couch.

“If that's what Dean wants,” John called back.

“Is that what you want, Dean?” John could hear Sam ask his brother, and then a pause before he shouted back to John, “He nodded! Can I start it?”

“Go ahead!”

John could hear the sounds of the show start, a little muffled, as he cleaned off the dildos and Ben Wa balls and then washed out the bowl with soap and water. When he returned, his boys were cuddled against each other, Dean with his knees folded up to his chest, one arm wrapped around them and the other around Sam. Sam was leaning against his big brother's side with his small hand clinging around Dean's left ankle. Dean was resting his cheek on Sam’s floppy hair.

“Can I get in on this cuddle pile?” John asked, and his boys both smiled up at him and nodded.

Dean stood up off the couch and John took his vacated seat next to Sam. He tugged down the front of his sweatpants and boxer briefs to free his achingly hard cock. When he was comfortable on the cushion, he smiled and held out his hands to his omega son. Dean took them and bashfully climbed up onto his father’s lap, knees on either side of John’s thighs, downturned eyes hidden under his long eyelashes. They were still clumped from his earlier tears.

“Hey, Deano,” John said softly, tipping forward to nose under his son’s jaw until Dean tilted his head to allow his father to scent him. John delicately slid two fingers into his son’s loosened hole with one hand, cupping Dean's spent cock gently in his palm, and pulled his son into a hug with his other. “C’mere, sweetheart. You did really good tonight, you know that?”

Dean nodded, chin knocking against the side of John’s face. “Yeah.”

John pulled away and looked up at his beautiful boy. He was blushing, his expression hesitant. It was so cute, the way he could still be so shy.

“Alright, then. Go ahead and turn around and take your seat, kiddo.”

He helped Dean keep his balance as he turned back around to face the TV, and then guided him down until his little pink hole was lined up with the dark-flushed head of John’s aching cock. The hot slick mouth of Dean’s hole opened smoothly for him, and he gently pulled his son down his length until he was fully sheathed in that sweet, slutty body that he loved so much.

“You're so slick for me, Dean,” John whispered into Dean’s ear. “So hot for me, baby, dripping all over. Love this slutty hole. Love you, love you so much.” Dean squeezed around him and John felt slick blurt out onto his heavy balls. He chuckled and kissed his son’s cheek, then wrapped his right arm around the young omega and pulled him back to recline comfortably against his chest. With his left arm, he pulled Sam in close to his side. “Love you, too, Sammy,” he said, pressing a kiss onto Sam’s hair. Sam snuggled against him and reached out again to rest his hand on Dean's belly so he could feel the gentle rise and fall of his brother's slow breaths and the bulge of his father's cock under the soft skin.

Dean would warm his Alpha's cock until TV-time was over, and then John would send Sam to have his turn in the bathroom getting ready for bed while he fucked Dean on his hands and knees on the coffee table, or over the arm of the couch, or maybe in his own bed. Or maybe in Dean’s.

And then, tomorrow, they'd do their nightly routine all over again.

Chapter 15: Family Dinner with Benny

“Sammy, I’m getting really full.” Dean’s voice was a little muffled because he was speaking into his crossed arms, knees planted on the playroom rug and butt in the air.

“Good,” Sam said as he pushed another ball past his big brother’s twitching rim. “I’m trying to fill you up.”

Dean’s new friend Benny was coming over for dinner tonight, and Sam wasn’t very excited about it. He wasn't jealous or a baby or anything, he didn't mind that Dean had a friend of his own, really. He just didn't like Benny and he didn't like that he was coming over for dinner.

Dad and Dean both said it didn't make sense for Sam not to like Benny because he hadn't even met him yet, but Sam didn't think that mattered. He didn't have to have met Benny to know that he was bad news. Dean hadn't even known Benny for very long and he acted like the older boy was the best thing ever. He even spent less time playing with Sam because Benny was always texting him and making Dean text him back. 

Sam just knew that Benny was rotten. Maybe things would be different if Benny was a beta, but he was an alpha, and it was obvious that he was using that to manipulate Sam’s big brother. It wasn't Dean’s fault; he couldn't help that his omega hole muddled his brain sometimes and just wanted to give alphas pleasure. But Benny was taking advantage of that, being all fake-nice and acting all pleased to be around him and making Dean come home smelling like some other possessive alpha, but then not even giving Dean what his slutty body needed (Sam had asked; Benny hadn't even put his cock in Dean’s omega hole yet). 

Sam was convinced that Benny was trying to worm his way into their lives so that he could buy Dean from them one day. Maybe he thought that if he deprived Dean of his cock for long enough, then Dean would beg their father to let it happen. But Benny was dumb, because there was no way that Dad would ever sell Dean to anyone, and Sam was gonna be Dean’s owner when he was all grown up and Dad was too old. 

Plus, Sam and Dad gave Dean everything he needed. Even though Sam was still little and hadn't popped his knot yet so his cock wasn't big enough to satiate Dean’s hungry hole, Sam could do plenty of other stuff to make Dean so slick and stuff him so full and make him spurt so much. 

So. Dean wouldn't starve for alpha cock as long as Sam was around. He'd never let his big brother’s cunt go hungry; he was a good little brother. And he planned to show that to Benny so he'd know that Dean wasn't his to take away.

Sam’s plan was good. If Benny had thought he could come into Sam’s house and use Sam’s big brother right in front of him, he had another think coming. There wouldn't be any room for Benny’s cock, or even his fingers, after Sam was done filling Dean up.

“Unnnhh,” Dean moaned while Sam stuffed another couple balls into his slick little hole. The mouth of his tiny pink cunt was pulsing a bit as Dean tried to clench and suck and keep all of Sam’s toys inside. 

They were little hollow plastic balls, about one and a half inches in diameter, brightly colored and hollow with cutouts like wiffle balls but with bells inside. Technically they were cat toys; he'd asked around the neighborhood kids and the ones who had pet cats had each donated as many as they could find in their house. They hadn't even asked him for money in return, just to give the balls back when he was done and also hold Dean’s hole open for them to use for target practice next time they played Nerf together. 

Sam had managed to collect enough of the cat toys to fill a big bowl, and he'd washed them really carefully with hot soapy water and even soaked them in toy cleaner so they weren't gross or anything. He'd been studiously poking them through Dean’s nervous entrance for about fifteen minutes, not going too fast because he wanted to really stuff Dean and make him bulge with them. He could tell the depth training was really working, because Dean seemed even more stretchy than when Sam had filled him up with the Legos a long time ago.

“You're so nice and slick for me,” Sam praised the fluttering pink cunt in front of him as he slipped another cat toy inside. He reached his hand around Dean’s hip and felt his brother’s growing belly; it was big and lumpy, and Sam could feel the hardness of the balls just under the thin layer of soft skin and belly fat. “Wow, Dean! This is even more than the Legos, I bet. But you can still move, right? It's been a while and you've had a lot more practice.”

“Nngh,” Dean moaned, but he nodded. “Sammy. I’m. I'm really full. I really am. Please. Benny is gonna be here soon. It's almost dinner time.”

“I know, Dean. Don't worry, I'm almost done.”

He hadn't used all of the cat toys in the bowl, but that was fine. What he had used had filled Dean up enough. Sam reached past the bowl to pick up the second-to-last part of his plan; it was a funny-looking dildo, eight and a half inches long. It was three inches wide at the base but tapered down the length to only about a quarter of an inch with a spiral pattern like a unicorn horn. Dean used to not like it because it felt pokey at the end of his hole, but now with the depth training his hole was deeper than the dildo. Sam figured it was perfect for what he wanted to use it for today: narrow enough at the end to fit all the way into Dean’s already packed hole, and thick enough at the base to keep Dean really stretched while plugging him up so the balls wouldn't fall out.

Sam spread lube over the dildo first, like Dad had taught him to do when Dean’s hole was already full of things since Dean’s slick wasn't always enough to fill every nook and cranny. When the unicorn horn was sloppy and gloopy with more than enough, Sam directed the narrow, pointed tip at his big brother's hole – which was bulging just a little as Dean tried to clench around two balls that were trying to make their way out of him at the same time – and slid it in.

At first it went in easy. The point slid inside and between the cat toys without any trouble at all. But as it started to get wider, it got a little bit more difficult just because Dean was already stuffed so full. 

“You gotta push back onto it, Dean,” Sam told his brother, and with a keening little noise Dean shifted and then pressed his hips back. Sam put the heel of his hand against the base of the dildo and really shoved; with their combined effort, the dildo slid another few inches in. After that, Sam was able to get the final few inches inside by hammering the flat base of the dildo with the side of his fist.

“Unh, unh, unh,” Dean whimpered, his cute little noises punctuating each of Sam’s determined whacks as the dildo was wedged inside him.

“Good boy,” Sam complimented once the wide base was flush with Dean’s rosy skin, his slick pink rim stretched taut and flinching around it as Sam circled it with his fingertips. Some slick was welling up around the edges despite how well-plugged the slutty hole was, and Sam happily smeared it around. “I really filled you up, Dean. Now your hole won't be hungry at all tonight.”

“Mmmh,” Dean whined. Sam wasn't sure if he'd heard him.

“One more thing.” Sam reached for the final piece of the ensemble; a strappy leather harness. He studiously wrapped and buckled it into place around Dean’s hips and between his legs, making sure it was tight. It held the base of the dildo in place. It wasn't quite tight enough to keep the toy from shifting around, so every step and shift of Dean’s hips would make it feel like the dildo was fucking into him, but it would prevent the toy from falling out and make sure all of the balls were kept safe inside.

“All done!” Sam exclaimed, pleased with his work. He leaned back and took in the sight of his big brother's cunt spread wide around the base of the long dildo, the black straps of the harness straining to keep it from sliding out of him. “You can sit up now, Dean!”

Dean tried to push himself back up with his hands, but failed after a couple of attempts and finally just let himself roll over onto his side and sit up from there. His lower lip was bitten between his teeth and his eyes were closed, lashes fluttering, cheeks glowing pink and forehead damp with sweat.

“Oh wow,” Sam gasped as he took in his brother’s appearance. Dean’s stomach was big, bigger than when Sam had filled him with the Legos, and the shape of the toy balls inside him was obvious. 

At Sam’s words, Dean opened his eyes and gazed down at himself. He sucked in a shuddery breath and blinked; his shaky hands raised and came in front of him to gingerly settle on his over-packed belly for only a second before he pulled them away like it was too much to touch it.

“Sammy,” Dean whispered, lower lip wobbling as he looked down at his lumpy belly. “Please. I look so… weird. I look like… I look… I look gross. Please. I don't want to look like this when Benny gets here.”

Sam felt a bit of his hard feelings melt away. It always hurt to hear Dean say mean things about himself.

“Dean, you don't look weird or gross or anything! You look perfect. Like, all slutty and used-up. I promise.” He leaned forward and wrapped his big brother in a tight hug that Dean returned after a second. Sam relished in Dean’s warm embrace and rubbed his cheek against his brother’s naked ribs, then gave him one last squeeze – feeling the toy balls shift around inside the omega’s stuffed channel – before pulling away. “And look! I haven't even shown you the best part!”

Sam picked up the little remote control that came with the dildo and turned it on. The toy instantly came to life, vibrating merrily inside Dean’s stretched cunt. Immediately, the vibrations carried to the cat toys, and the bells inside each hollow plastic ball began to bounce around and jingle.

“Sammy!” Dean yelped, arms wrapping around his middle and hunching over as the sound of so many little bells could be heard, muffled, from inside his slutty little body. Sam reached out and pulled Dean’s arms away so he could hear it better. The vibrator was only on its lowest setting right now; Sam was excited to hear what it would sound like at the highest.

“Want me to make you spurt?” he asked kindly. Dean’s cock had twitched to life and was stiffly pointing up towards his round and jingling belly. 

Dean shook his head. “Benny,” he managed to say. “He’s gonna b-be here soon.”

Sam scowled. Even filled-up and vibrating and hard and leaking, Dean still couldn't forget about dumb Benny. He turned off the vibrator and Dean sighed, tense muscles going lax.

“Whatever. Well, I'm still using your hole, okay? So if Benny wants to use it he has to wait until some other day. Okay? Okay, Dean?”

Dean blinked quietly a few times, eyes fixed on Sam’s determined gaze, and then looked down and away.

“Okay, Sammy,” he said softly.

—

“Sam, are you sure this is how you want to use your brother right now?” Dad asked when he came upstairs to check on them and found Sam helping Dean ponderously up to his feet. Standing up, Dean’s bowlegs were far more pronounced than usual thanks to the three-inch base of the vibrator wedged into his little cunt. It made him look silly when he walked because he couldn't move very well, and he knew it, too; his face was blushing bright red.

Sam blushed a little himself. He knew what his dad’s tone meant; he was asking Sam if he was sure that he wanted to humiliate his brother like this for his friend’s visit. Sam wasn’t humiliating Dean, though, he wasn’t. He was just feeding Dean’s hungry hole and making sure that Benny knew who Dean belonged to, that was all. Dean shouldn't feel embarrassed; there was nothing for him to be embarrassed of. If he was embarrassed then that wasn't Sam’s fault.

Besides, if Benny really was such a good friend, it wouldn't matter to him that Dean was all stuffed full and bulging and walking kinda funny. So even if Benny did laugh at Dean, then that would just prove that Benny was bad news and that Dean shouldn't be friends with him, anyway.

“Yes,” Sam said resolutely, even though he was feeling kinda doubtful now, seeing his dad’s raised eyebrow and how upset Dean looked. “I like Dean like this. I want him to stay like this for dinner.”

Dad sighed and put his hand around Dean’s shoulder, and Dean sniffled and turned to bury his face in their father's shirt.

“Alright, Sam. It's your hole and you can do what you want with it. But remember, you can always change your mind if you start to regret it later.”

Sam clenched his hands into fists and pouted, kicking at the rug. “I won't regret it.”

“I'm just saying it's okay if you do, Sammy. Real alphas know that it's okay to change their mind.”

Sam crossed his arms, feeling chagrined, and Dean tilted his face up to look at his dad.

“Can I wear clothes to dinner, Dad? Please?” 

Dad looked down at Dean’s big, imploring eyes for a moment before nodding. “Alright, Dean. Come on, I'll help you get dressed.”

He picked Dean up – all the bells inside him jingled at the quick movement, making Dad pause for a moment and Dean hide his face behind his hands – and carried him out of the play room, leaving Sam to wonder if this really was such a good idea after all.

—

Dad was in the kitchen finishing dinner and Sam and Dean were in the living room while they waited for Benny to arrive. At just about seven o’clock, Dean got a text message.

“Benny’s here!” he said happily after reading it and typing something back. Sam scowled. A minute later, the doorbell rang and Dean’s expression immediately brightened as he perked up and turned his head towards the door.

“Dean, can you answer the door for your friend?” Dad called.

“Okay!” Dean called back. He looked excited, but as Sam watched him try to push himself up off the couch, he saw his brother’s expression quickly fall again at how difficult it was just to stand with the big base of the dildo between his legs and all the balls stuffed inside him. Dean steeled himself, though, and made his way to the front door, using the back of the leather couch and then the wall to brace himself.

It took Dean way longer than it should have, and Sam waited for Dean’s new ‘friend’ to rudely ring the doorbell again or start knocking on the door. Benny was apparently very patient, though – or at least, he was pretending to be to impress their Dad – because he simply waited until Dean opened the front door and greeted him with a broad smile.

“Hi, Benny!” Dean said, face shining in a way that Sam had only ever seen it do for him before, stepping back to allow the door to open inward.

“Evenin’, cher,” Benny said back. He had a funny sort of accent that Sam had never heard before, and he was bigger than Sam had expected him to be. He watched the older boy step into the house through narrowed eyes from over the back of the couch. “That's a pretty cool shirt.”

Since the pants that Dean had worn to school were already in the laundry hamper, Dad hadn't wanted to get another pair dirty… especially since Dean was steadily dripping from everything that Sam had stuffed inside him. It probably was beside the point, though, because Dean was so filled up that his omega pants likely wouldn't have fit around his waist. So to compromise, Dad was letting Dean borrow one of his Harley-Davidson T-shirts. It was pretty big on him – fitting more like a dress, it went down almost to his knees – and the baggy fit and dark color pretty well-disguised Dean’s round belly.

Dean blushed and looked down to make sure that the shirt was covering everything and that his body didn't look too weird.

“I dunno. It's pretty big on me. Makes me look like a girl.”

Benny reached down and ruffled Dean’s hair, a casual touch that he did without even thinking. Like he just had the right to touch Dean like that. Sam felt his chest get all tight and dug his fingernails into the leather seatback cushion.

“No way, little brother. You just look like a real biker. I can picture you on the back of a Harley, ridin’ off into the sunset.”

Sam felt a wave of possessiveness overwhelm him, and he saw Dean’s nose twitch. Benny glanced up to look over at him, too.

“He's not your brother,” Sam said resolutely, straightening up and glaring at Benny. The older alpha raised his eyebrows.

“This must be the famous Sammy,” Benny said lightly, hand still resting on Dean’s head and petting his soft blond hair.

“Yeah, that's Sammy,” Dean nodded. He sounded resigned, and was giving his little brother a look that Sam knew meant to cool it. Sam ignored it.

“It's Sam,” he asserted, “And he’s not your brother.” His expression was fierce, and he tried to make himself smell big and scary like his dad could, but he wasn't sure it worked very well because Benny didn't look intimidated.

“I know that, chief,” Benny told him. “It’s just a turn of phrase.”

Sam made a little hmph and crossed his arms. Dean rolled his eyes and looked back up at Benny.

“My dad’s in the kitchen. He's excited to meet you. Do you wanna come say hi?”

Sam watched Benny. The older boy actually looked a little nervous; he pulled his hand away from Dean’s head and ran it through his own hair, even though it was too short to even be messy.

“Of course. I brought something for him.” He held up his other hand, which was holding a paper grocery bag. “Got us some dessert.”

“What is it?” Dean asked, and Benny lowered it and held the bag open for Dean to look inside. Sam watched his brother’s eyes light up. “Pie!”

Dean couldn't help but forget his predicament and try to bounce a little in his excitement; the fat base of the dildo made him stumble and Sam could hear the muffled sound of the bells inside him jingling even from the couch. Benny steadied Dean easily with big hands on his narrow shoulders, but when he straightened the young omega up Dean was looking crestfallen and embarrassed.

“Did y’hear that?” Benny asked, eyes glancing up and down Dean’s frame and then around them, a little confused. Dean stared at the ground.

“Yeah,” he said, picking at the front of his shirt. “It. It was just me.”

Benny didn't question Dean, just looked down at him with some amount of concern and waited for him to elaborate. When he didn't, Sam got down from the couch and ran around to stand next to them, angling his body slightly between them until Dean was forced to step back and Benny had to take his hands off the omega’s shoulders.

“It's just the toys I filled him up with,” Sam explained. He reached out and grabbed the hem of the Harley-Davidson shirt and lifted it up, ignoring Dean’s squeak of protest, to show Benny the lumpy bulge of his jam-packed tummy and his hard cock jutting out of the strappy harness and resting under the swell of it.

“Sammy!” Dean pleaded and tried to pull his shirt back down to cover himself, but Sam gave him a look and he gave up and just raised his hands to cover his red face instead.

“They're cat toys with jingle bells! I got a whole bunch inside. He got really slick because his hole is really hungry and really slutty just for me especially.” He stroked one of his palms tenderly up and down the round lumps under the stretched skin of his brother’s belly; the balls shifted under his touch as the sensation made Dean’s taut internal walls clench and spasm. Sam and Benny could actually see them moving under the omega’s creamy-soft skin. 

“He really likes it,” Sam continued, feeling more confident now that he could see how hard his big brother was; Dean’s cock was flushed pink and leaking slick, beads of it welling up and trailing down his erect length. “His cunt eats up anything I give it because it loves me so much. I like to make sure it doesn't go hungry, so it's full now since I put so much stuff inside and plugged it up with the big vibrator. So you can't use him right now because I'm using him. Right, Dean? Tell him that he can't fuck you or anything because I’m using you right now.”

Sam gazed up at his big omega brother imploringly, and Dean nodded, hands still hiding his face so that he didn't have to see them looking at him. 

“Yeah. I’m. Sammy’s using m-my hole right now, Benny. I'm sorry.”

Benny started to open his mouth, but Sam didn't let him say a word before he waved the remote control in front of him and smiled.

“You haven't even seen the best part!” he said, actually feeling kind of excited to show Benny how good he could make Dean feel. He jabbed his finger on the dial, and in his haste accidentally turned it all the way up to the highest setting.

Immediately, the bells inside Dean started to jingle loudly and at the same time Dean’s whole body tensed like he'd been electrocuted. A second later, his eyes crossed and his knees gave out underneath him as his hips stuttered, helplessly thrusting into the empty air.

Sam watched his brother fall towards the hardwood floor with dismay, but before he could even do anything, Benny dropped to his own knees and caught the incapacitated omega in his arms. 

“Sssammy,” Dean moaned, lips parting and face flushing as his hips twitched endlessly through the vibrations, humping the air in slutty little jerks. The jingling of the bells sounded from inside him, and there was a splatter as slick blurted out of his stuffed hole around the base of the dildo onto the floor between his feet. Sam was still dumbly holding Dean’s shirt up and out of the way, so at the same time, slick spurted out of his cock onto Benny’s stomach.

“Sorry!” Sam yelped, snapping out of his shock. He dropped Dean’s shirt and struggled to turn the vibrator off. Dean’s hips were still jerking, his eyes rolling back in his head underneath his fluttering eyelashes, freckled cheeks rosy and full lips parted in a sweet O. Benny let Dean collapse into his big strong arms, where the younger boy clutched at Benny’s shirt and breathed in shallow pants.

“Sssorry, Benny,” Dean slurred as his feet slid around in his own slick. He tried to wipe at the slippery wet spot that he'd left on Benny’s shirt. “Got you all mmmessy.”

“Don't worry about it, cher,” Benny said lowly, voice thick, and pressed a kiss to the side of Dean’s hair. “It's natural. You ain’t done nothin’ wrong.”

“I didn’t mean to make you feel that good, Dean,” Sam said contritely, but he didn't think his brother even heard him. Dean was too focused on the amazing Benny.

“Sorry,” Dean repeated into Benny’s neck. “Sssorry, sorry. Got you all mmmessy w-when you can’t even use m-me.” His eyes were squeezed closed like he didn't want to be there, but his hand was moving; Sam followed it down and saw that Benny was hard in his pants. Dean had felt it and was trying to touch it, like how Dad liked him to when Dean noticed that Dad was hard, but Benny gently moved Dean’s hand away and held it tightly to his chest.

“No, cher, it's alright.” Surprisingly, instead of looking irritated or disappointed Benny just looked like he was worried. He angled his hips away so that Dean wouldn't feel his hard cock pressing against him anymore. “I really hadn't planned on usin' you tonight, cher. Honest. I just wanted to spend some time with you and meet your family, that's all.”

Dean sniffled. “Really?”

“Really. Alright? Ain’t got nothin’ to be sorry for. Not the mess, and not bein’ stuffed full. Sam can… Your brother can use you like he wants, I don't mind.” He turned to look at Sam. “Alright, chief? You ain’t got nothin’ to worry about.”

The look he gave Sam wasn't mean, and he didn't even smell mad or anything, but Sam felt himself shrink and cower away. Benny’s pointed expression made him feel kind of ashamed. He stepped away from the older boys, glaring at the ground.

“I wasn't worried,” he said. “You don’t even make any sense.”

He crossed his arms and scowled at the floor. Dean didn't even care, he only had eyes for Benny; he had stopped trying to wipe away his slick or touch the alpha’s cock and was instead looking tentatively up at the older boy, who smiled down at him with tender eyes.

“Wanna take me to meet your Alpha now, cher?” he asked, and Dean nodded. Benny got him to his feet – he lifted him over the puddle of slick that he'd left on the floor before setting him down – and then held out his hand. Dean took it with a blush, and Benny helped Dean keep his balance as he began to slowly lead the older alpha boy towards the kitchen. Instead of walking normal, Dean had to waddle.

Sam felt an ache in his chest. His big brother wasn't even paying attention to him, he hadn't even looked back to see if Sam was following them. Furiously blinking back tears, he went to get the towels that they kept in the hall closet for times like this to mop up Dean’s slick. Because Sam was a good alpha even when his big omega brother wasn't paying attention.

“I look so weird,” Sam could hear Dean whisper to Benny as they slowly walked away. Sam felt his face get hot as if he had something to be embarrassed of. He didn’t. Dean didn't, either, but Sam especially didn't.

“You don't look weird, cher. Anyone would look like that if someone filled them up that much. Even an alpha.”

Dean let out a shocked giggle. “An alpha?”

“That's right. Even an alpha like me. You fill me up like that, I'll look just the same. It's natural.” He grinned and tightened his grip on Dean’s smaller hand.

“That's not natural!” Dean laughed, but he sounded hesitantly delighted by Benny daring to even hypothetically put himself in Dean’s position. “Only omegas should be used like that!” He paused for a second, thinking, only the muffled jingling from his stuffed tummy at every heavy step disturbing the silence as they carried on down the hall. Finally, Sam could just make out Dean saying softly, “I wouldn't want this to happen to you, Benny. It would… it would be awful.”

“What do you mean, cher?”

“You wouldn't like it. Not like me. ‘Cause… ‘cause you don't have an omega hole and your body isn't all slutty like mine is.”

Benny didn't say anything in response, just hummed and rubbed his thumb across the back of Dean’s hand, and Sam went back to the couch to pout. When Dean and Benny finally entered the kitchen, he could hear them greet his dad with happy tones and felt left out. After a minute or two he couldn’t bear the lonely feeling anymore, so he resolutely stood and followed the two older boys into the kitchen.

“I notice that you haven't even been in my house for five minutes and you’ve somehow managed to get my son’s cum on your shirt,” Dad was observing wryly as he put the finishing touches on the potato dish.

“Dad,” Dean protested, clutching onto Benny’s hand.

“Hey, I'm just impressed. That takes some speed and dedication, even with an omega as slutty as you are.” He winked at his eldest son, and Dean blushed and looked down at his protruding belly, then blushed deeper and looked to the side at the dining table.

“Dad, come on. Please.”

Dad laughed. “Alright, alright, I'll stop teasing.”

“I’m the one that made Dean spurt,” Sam spoke up. “Benny didn't do anything.”

“It’s real nice to meet you, Mr. Winchester,” Benny quickly said before anyone else could continue the topic of conversation, holding his free hand out to shake. “I’ve heard a lot about you from Dean. I was real grateful to have you invite me over.”

“Yes, it's good to finally meet you too.” Dad took the offered hand and shook it firmly, eyed Benny up and down appraisingly. His eyes lingered on Benny and Dean’s joined hands and the way that his omega son was leaning into Benny’s warmth. “I had to meet the mysterious alpha who’s taken such an interest in my omega son. Here, a strong boy like you can help me set the table.”

Dad watched with a hint of approval as Benny helped Dean over to his seat at the dinner table before returning to help their father with the dishes. Sam followed and quickly took the seat next to Dean before Benny could.

While the older alphas set the table, Sam sat in uncomfortable silence while Dean wiggled around in his chair, trying to find a comfortable position on the hard wooden seat. Dean's chair didn't have a cushion on it because he'd just get it all dirty; plain wood was easy to wipe off after the meal was over.

“Unh,” Dean moaned softly past his bitten lip as the big dildo fucked slightly in and out of him with every jostle of his hips against the hard seat. His breath hitched as the movement of the dildo shifted all the little plastic balls inside of him. “Mmmh, unh…”

Feeling a little bad and wanting to give his brother some relief, Sam turned the remote on to the second lowest setting. The vibrator whirred to life, and the bells began to jingle happily again while Dean shuddered and touched his hands to his bulging tummy.

“Sammy,” he mewled. Sam could see the movement of his little cock twitching underneath the hem of his black motorcycle shirt.

“It's okay, Dean,” Sam reassured him. Dean was looking at him through half-lidded eyes, cheeks flushed and red-bitten lips slightly parted. Sam felt a little warmth that his big brother’s attention was back on him. He'd make Dean’s slutty omega hole feel so good, even if his friend wouldn't.

“Sammy, can't we – nngh – can’t we just have a n-normal dinner while Benny’s here?” Dean whispered. His voice was low enough that only Sam could hear him over the clatter of the dishes and silverware, but still a little higher than he'd intended because he was a little deafened by the persistent jingling that emanated from deep inside him.

“This is normal,” Sam said, confused. It was true. Sam had never stuffed Dean quite so full before and he'd never put bells inside, but Dean was filled or fucked with something during family dinner more days than not. Dad and Sam were very attentive to the needs of Dean’s slutty body.

“I… I know. I just… I just meant…” He squeezed his eyes shut and shifted again in his chair. The fat base of the dildo rattled against the seat for a second, but he quickly repositioned so that the only noise was coming from the bells ringing in his slutty, overstuffed cunt.

“Alright!” their dad interrupted, jovially setting the main course on the table while Benny carried over the sides. “Dinner is served. Sam, turn that off, I can barely hear myself think.”

Sam huffed and turned off the vibrator, and Dean let out a relieved sigh as the bells stopped jingling.

Dad sat across the table from Sam, Benny across from Dean. Dinner was pork chops and roasted rosemary potatoes and salad; Sam took the best pork chop before Benny could. 

“Can I serve you somethin’, cher?” Benny asked Dean, gesturing at the food.

“I’m serving Dean!” Sam said before Dean could respond. “Look, Dean, I got you the best pork chop!” He hadn't unstuck it from his fork yet, and he quickly transferred it onto Dean’s plate as if it had always been his plan. “You want potatoes, right?”

Bemused, Dean nodded, and Sam shoveled rosemary potatoes from the bowl onto his brother’s plate.

“Get your brother some salad too, Sam,” Dad told him, and Dean whined.

“Dad! I already ate all the dumb broccoli and carrots you put in my lunch. You said I only have to eat vegetables once a day.”

“You have to eat vegetables as much as I say so, and today you're eating salad with your dinner.”

Dean opened his mouth to start to protest again, but remembered that Benny was there and thought better of acting like a brat in front of his friend. 

The four of them began to eat. Sam declined his dad’s offer to cut up his pork chop for him because he was old enough to do it himself, though he did find it a little difficult. 

Dean tried to persevere with his own for a miserable few minutes before he ashamedly asked Dad to do it for him. He was having a lot of trouble finding a workable position at the table; he had to sit up fairly straight due to the long dildo spearing him through and to minimize the discomfort of the balls shifting around inside him, but he couldn't scoot his chair very close to the table because his stomach was protruding so much. So he couldn't really lean in close enough to cut his meat himself.

“Nngh,” Dean whimpered at the sensation of the dildo pressing further into him when he slid his plate over the tabletop to his father. Benny reached out to help it get the rest of the way. Their dad accepted Dean’s plate without comment – it was second nature for him and Sam to accommodate Dean when the way that he was being used disabled him – and no one seemed to bat an eye at it except for Dean himself, who stared ashamedly at the tabletop while he waited for Dad to finish.

“So what brought you to Kansas, Benny? Where are you from?” Dad asked while he cut the meat away from the bone.

“Well, I grew up in New Orleans. Born and raised. When my grandmother passed a year ago, she left me her estate. It was too big for just me, and… Well, it was too hard to stay there by myself. So I sold it and took some time to clear my head. Just sort of ended up here.”

“What about your other family?” Sam asked. It sounded weird to just abandon your family after your grandma left you money.

“Ain’t got none, chief. My parents died when I was a baby, so my Maw-Maw was the one that raised me. Never knew anyone else, so when she died I didn't have nothin’ or nobody tyin’ me down.”

“Oh.” Sam poked his rosemary potatoes around with his fork. “My mom died when I was a baby, too.”

He glanced over at his dad, who was finishing up cutting Dean’s pork into small, bite-size pieces. He got that sad expression he always got when anyone brought up Mom. When Sam looked back at Benny, the older boy was looking back at him with a gentle expression.

“Yeah, Dean told me. I'm real sorry about that, Sam. It's tough to lose a parent.”

“Yeah.” Sam looked at Dean, then back at his own plate. He hadn't realized that Benny didn’t even have a family. Sam thought it was bad enough to not have a mom like everyone else did, but if he didn't have Dad or Dean, either, he didn't know what he'd do. “I'm sorry, too. About your family.”

“That's kind of you to say. I appreciate it.”

Dad slid Dean’s plate back to him across the table, and he grabbed it and pulled it right to the edge to spear a piece of pork and bring it to his lips. He stared at it for a second, thinking. “So why…” Dean started to ask, but he stopped and hesitated.

“What is it, cher?”

“Sorry. I was just wondering. You quit school for a little, I guess, right? So why did you decide to, like, settle down and start again in Lawrence? It's so boring here.”

Dad chuckled. Benny’s mouth quirked into a smile as he chewed a bite of potatoes and pondered Dean’s question. “Well,” he finally started, after he'd swallowed, “I honestly can't tell you, cher. I went where the roads took me, didn't much pay attention. And when I got here… Well, it just felt right. Didn't really know why, I just knew somethin’ special was here for me.” His face softened as he watched Dean’s eyes narrow and focus on his plate, trying to spear another small bite of pork while he listened. Dean didn't see Benny’s look, but both Dad and Sam did. “I think recently, I'm startin’ to realize what that might’ve been.”

“Your track team?” Dean asked, finally glancing back up at his friend.

“Hmm. Well, cher, for better or worse, I guess you can say it certainly lead me to it.”

Dean shrugged and looked back down at his plate. Dad was eyeing Benny sort of approvingly. Sam ate a big bite of pork and potato at once.

—

They continued to eat and talk. Mostly it was just Dad asking Benny questions and Benny answering them while Sam and Dean occasionally cut in. By the time most of their plates were clean, Dean had a lot of his pork and potatoes and all of his salad still left on his plate. He'd started off participating a lot in the conversation, but over time his words had gotten quieter and more sparse, and Sam realized that he hadn't said a thing for at least the last ten minutes.

“C’mon, Dean, salad isn't that bad,” their father cajoled. Dean made a whining sound and shifted in his seat. There was a responding jingle from his stuffed cunt. “If you don't finish your dinner, you won’t be getting any pie,” Dad added, cautioning him playfully. Instead of pouting or complaining as expected, though, Dean’s lower lip started to quiver and he furiously swiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. All three of the alphas at the table noticed, and instantly the dining room was filled with the scent of protectiveness.

“I’m sorry, Dad, I’m trying,” he said with hitching breaths. “Please, Daddy. I’m. There’s. There's no room inside. I swear, there's just no room.” A tear slipped out of his eye and slid down his face until it dropped down onto his huge, lumpy belly. He scrubbed angrily at his face again. “I’m sorry. I'm not trying to be a baby. I just really want pie with everyone, Dad. I just wanted to save room for pie.”

Sam felt his stomach sink. He hadn't even thought about how stuffing Dean so full would mean there wasn't room to get food in there. Since his stomach and his omega hole were different places, Sam hadn't even realized it would matter. And now Dean hadn't even been able to eat almost any of his dinner because he wanted to try the dessert that his friend had brought.

“I’ll eat salad for breakfast and lunch and dinner tomorrow, I swear,” Dean continued. “Please. Just one bite, Dad. Please.”

Benny looked heartbroken, and Dad looked about ready to let Dean have pie for every meal tomorrow instead, but Sam was the one who spoke up first.

“I’m done,” he announced. “I’m done using your hole, Dean. Let me take my toys out and then you'll have plenty of room for pie, okay?”

Dean looked at Sam and then back at Dad, who smiled and nodded.

"That sounds like a great solution. After Sammy empties you, have a few more bites of dinner and then we'll all eat pie together, alright?"

Dean smiled and nodded and looked so grateful that it made Sam feel kind of bad for some reason. Like maybe Dean shouldn’t feel grateful that Sam was willing to take out all the things that he'd filled Dean’s hole with, since Sam was the one who put them in there in the first place without even thinking about how it would affect him. But Sam didn't dwell on the feeling too long; he just slid off his chair and gestured for Dean to get up, holding out his hands for his big brother to take.

Dean basically slipped right off his seat through the puddle of slick that he'd made and then stood shakily, knees turned out awkwardly to make room for the big base of the dildo and both hands in Sam’s.

“Need any help, Sammy?” Dad asked. He was clearing the table and collecting his, Benny’s and Sam’s empty plates. “Why don't you ask your brother’s friend if he can give you a hand?”

“Benny doesn't wanna do chores while he's here,” Dean protested softly, face flushing.

“It's never a chore helpin’ you, cher,” Benny replied, just as soft. He stood from his seat and walked around the table until he was standing tall next to the two brothers. “What can I do?”

Sam figured he'd be a grown up and let Benny feel useful, even though Sam could do it all by himself if he wanted to.

“Well, I guess you can hold him up while I take off the harness and stuff.”

“You got it, chief.” Benny sank to his knees and wrapped his big arms around Dean from behind, hugging the young omega tightly to his chest with one hand splayed across his ribs and the other gently cradling Dean’s stuffed belly. “This alright, cher?” he whispered into Dean’s ear, lips brushing his earlobe, and Dean mewled and tilted his head to bare his neck. He brought his smaller hands up to clutch at Benny’s muscular forearm.

“Hey, Sammy, use a bowl, would you?” Dad requested as he came back into the dining room with a big plastic bowl in hand on his way to clear the rest of the silverware. He handed the bowl to Sam, who took it and set it down on the floor between Dean’s bowed legs. Dean whimpered.

Sam reached forward and lifted the hem of his brother’s overlarge shirt, and Benny took it to keep it up and out of the way when Sam nudged his hand with it. He efficiently began to undo the straps of the harness, and after barely a minute it fell away.

“Unnh, Sammy!” Dean moaned, the big dildo immediately dropping straight out of his dripping hole with a sloppy schlick and clunking into the bowl. Sam had to quickly get down to his knees to steady it so that it wouldn't fall over; the dildo was followed by the cheerful jingle of two of the cat toys, one after the other. 

Dean’s little fingers dug harder into Benny’s arm as his legs turned to jelly, slick splattering into the bowl as well. With care, Benny lowered Dean until he was basically sitting in the older boy’s lap on the floor, leaning back against the alpha’s beefy chest with his long legs spread wide in front of him, the bowl between his thighs.

“You’re alright, cher,” Benny told him lowly, pressing kisses onto his neck. Sam felt jealousy flare up in his gut again, but emptying Dean out was more important than that right now.

“Can you push the rest out, Dean?” Sam asked. Dean’s eyes were heavy-lidded, lashes fluttering, and his freckled cheeks were flushed. He bit his lip and strained; Benny lifted his hand off from the omega’s tummy as the balls inside him shifted. Sam watched Dean’s pale, taut belly shiver as the balls moved underneath his skin. “It's like laying eggs,” he added helpfully.

Dean whimpered and bit his lip. He scrunched up his face and strained again; Sam could see the stretched rim of his entrance flare, the silky pink walls just inside fluttering as Dean tried to squeeze the balls out. But nothing came out except a small wave of slick and a funny noise that made Dean flinch and blush with embarrassment even though neither Sam nor Benny laughed at him.

“I dunno, Sammy,” he whispered. “I’m. I’m so full. I can’t… I can’t clench.” His fingers gripped white-tight on Benny’s forearm. “My hole’s no good,” he admitted quietly.

Benny petted Dean’s swollen tummy with one hand, the thumb of his other unconsciously circling Dean’s nipple under his shirt. The older boy’s face was tucked into Dean’s tilted neck, lips pressing against the young omega’s lovely warm skin near his scent gland. Sam reached out and rubbed his brother's twitching inner thighs with both hands, shushing him.

“Don't say that, Dean,” Sam ordered sternly. “Your hole is amazing, okay? It's just tired. I stuffed so much inside, so it's a little worn out, that's all.”

Dean hummed and lowered his eyes, his red-swollen lower lip trembling. “Okay.”

“Maybe they’re just stuck,” Sam suggested. “Let me feel.”

He easily slipped his four fingers into his big brother's lax hole and wiggled them around; there was nothing to feel except the slick walls of the channel flinching around him. He pulled back out a little and tucked in his thumb before sliding his whole hand inside and pressing in further. He found the problem quickly after that; three of the balls were wedged together in the gap of Dean’s pubic bone, unable to descend and blocking the rest of the balls.

“Found it,” Sam announced triumphantly, and then bit his tongue with concentration as he adjusted the balls with his fingers until they rearranged enough to pass through. “There!” He pulled his hand out wetly, smiling as he felt Dean’s tired hole clamp down around his wrist and try to suck him back inside. “You can try again now.”

Dean sighed and then closed his eyes, frowning a little as he again tried to push. There was a resulting jingle as the mass of little round toys all visibly shifted under his skin, and one shot out of him, followed by two that stretched his hole and exited at the same time. 

“Nngh!” Dean grunted, his slick pink rim trembling and contracting before bulging out again as it wetly spat out another two balls at once, and then another. Sam quickly caught every one and dropped them into the bowl with the unicorn horn dildo, the jingle of the bells announcing each new count.

“Good boy,” Sam praised as Dean whimpered and continued to expel the jingling toys. He had to pause after every hard push, breathing heavily. His worn-out cunt gasped and drooled, the rim red and swollen from the friction of the holes in the balls rubbing over the delicate skin. It was pouting out a little bit like a sweet, well-used mouth. 

Sometimes when Dean pushed down, the only thing that came out of him was a loud noise that made him cringe and try to hide his face against Benny’s stubbly cheek. Dean was red with humiliation, eyes squeezed closed as if that would prevent Sam and Benny from seeing him in this debauched state. His eyelashes were wet and clumped together, cheeks salty and damp. 

Sam watched Dean’s slutty hole flex and stretch while tears of shame streamed down his cheeks, and he felt a strange throb jolt between his legs. It felt the same as when he had watched his principal spank the metal water bottle into his crying brother. Sam bit his own lip uncertainly and pressed the heel of his hand against his groin, eyes glued to Dean’s tearful expression and squirming legs and gaping pink hole, completely absorbed by his brother’s shame.

“Do you like it?” he asked. Dean’s eyes fluttered open, glassy and green, and he dazedly met Sam’s gaze. They stared at each other for a few moments, Dean’s chest rising and falling, used-up cunt lax and open and fluttering along with his heavy breaths.

“I always like it, Sammy,” he said quietly, and Sam let out a breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding, feeling strangely relieved. At Dean’s words, Benny made a small noise in his chest and held the young omega tighter, gently palming his deflated tummy.

After a while more of hard work, nothing was coming out of Dean anymore except for squelches and slick. Sam reached his hand inside to search around the baggy cunt and make sure that it was really empty. “Mmmh,” Dean keened as his little alpha brother’s arm rummaged through his stretched-out insides as if his sloppy hole was nothing more than an empty backpack.

“Careful with him, chief,” Benny said. His palm was still resting on Dean’s soft belly, under which he could feel the young alpha’s hand moving around. “He’s been a real good boy for you.”

“I’m always careful with Dean,” Sam retorted hotly, but he did gentle his movements and slowly pulled his arm back out when he was sure that no more balls remained inside. “His hole likes my arm. It eats me up to my elbow all the time.”

“You can put yours in too, Benny,” Dean offered tiredly, breath hitching a little. “Now that Sammy’s done using me.” He tried to sit up, but his abdominal muscles were far too worn out and he barely did more than tense before collapsing limply back into Benny’s hold. “‘M sorry, I c-can’t sit up.” The older alpha kissed away a tear that welled up and began to roll down the omega’s wet cheek. “You. You can put me on your cock while we eat dessert. I might be, um, too loose. To feel good. But I can keep you warm.”

Benny shook his head and nuzzled into Dean’s neck, breathing in Dean’s scent.

“You're such a good boy,” he told him, and Dean whimpered and tried to shift his legs, open cunt throbbing and blurting slick at the praise. “I’ll hold you up in my lap and help you sit so you can eat properly, cher. But I don't need you to sit on my cock. I want you to focus on enjoying your pie.”

“What's share mean?” Sam piped up, interrupting the moment, and both older boys looked up at him. “That word you keep calling him. ‘Share’. What's that mean?”

To Sam’s surprise, Benny actually blushed red and cast his eyes back down to fix on his hands where they rested on Dean’s middle. “Aww, it’s nothin’, really. It's Cajun, that's just how we talk down where I'm from.”

“Okay, but what does it mean?” Sam repeated stubbornly. Benny continued to blush, and his fingers idly traced the lettering on Dean’s T-shirt.

“It’s just somethin’ nice to call someone,” he finally said after a few moments of silence. 

“You only call Dean that, though,” Sam observed. “Do you call your other friends cher?” Benny coughed and shook his head quickly.

“Naw, it’s not, uh, it’s not a word that applies to just anyone.”

“Dean, do you know what it means?”

Dean blushed. He curled his fingers loosely again around Benny’s forearm. “I. I just, um, wasn't sure if I was supposed to know,” he admitted. Sometimes, Dean was so embarrassed about his omega brain making it harder for him to learn that he didn't ask questions when he should. Even though he was really smart for an omega.

Benny blinked in surprise. “What did you think it meant, cher?” he asked.

“I dunno. It sounded, um, nice.” He drew little circles on Benny’s arm with his finger. “I like it when you call me that.”

Benny squeezed the boy closer to his chest. “I’m glad.”

"So what's it mean?" Sam asked again, getting impatient.

“It’s something nice to call someone like me,” Dean thought aloud, repeating what Benny had told them. His words were slow like honey while he pondered the riddle, trying to figure it out. After a moment of thoughtful silence, he bit his lip and turned his face into Benny’s jaw. “Um, does it mean… like, slut?” he asked in a soft voice.

Benny’s entire demeanor changed. Instead of reluctant and flustered, his face went pale and he curled his big body even further around Dean in a firm but gentle embrace.

“No, it don't mean that,” Benny said with a sort of urgency. “Honest, cher. Dean. Sorry I wasn’t bein’ straightforward, little brother, I was just a little embarrassed.” 

Benny glanced up at Sam, but Sam didn't feel the need to call him out for calling Dean his brother like last time. After all, it was just a turn of phrase. 

“Why were you embarrassed?” Dean asked, sounding truly curious. Benny quirked his mouth and shrugged hesitantly.

“‘Cher’ is the kinda thing you call your sweetheart, is all,” he finally said shyly. “It means somethin’ like that.”

Dean looked down at where Benny’s hand held him tight. “Your sweetheart?” he asked. “You mean… like, your girlfriend?” 

Benny nodded. “Or boyfriend,” he added quietly.

“Oh.” Dean slumped further into Benny’s embrace and slid his slick thighs together, then blushed and ducked his head further when his used-up cunt made another embarrassing noise. “Y-you shouldn't use that word on me,” he said. “I’m not… I’m…”

“Dad calls you sweetheart all the time,” Sam quickly pointed out, seeing Dean’s upset. “Me too sometimes. You call your family that, too, not just your girlfriend.” Sam met Benny’s eyes and for just a second, he felt a strike of understanding flow between them. “That's why you like Dean so much, right?” he asked the older alpha boy seriously. “Not ‘cause he has such a slutty hole, but because he's such an awesome brother.”

Benny sort of smiled, and Dean looked up. Not at Sam, just at Benny; but this time, Sam didn't really mind.

He still didn't want Benny to come into their lives and take away the time that Sam had with his amazing big brother. But Dad was right, after all: it was okay for Dean to have friends too. 

And if Dean had to be friends with someone, then Sam was glad that it wasn’t someone who just wanted to use Dean’s slutty omega hole and nothing else. He was glad that it was someone who petted Dean’s hair and held him when he couldn't stand and didn't make fun of his slutty noises or think it was a bother to take care of him when he needed it.

So if Benny wanted to call Dean his brother, then Sam guessed that that was alright. Benny didn't have any other family, after all, and Dean was full of enough love to share.

Chapter 16: Free Use Period II: For the Karma

Brady had been getting bolder with his favorite school fucktoy. Because why not?

He knew that Dean had an Alpha who actually seemed to care for him and didn’t hesitate to raise hell with the school board if he felt that his slutty son was being mistreated. That was why Brady had been so careful – almost too careful – in the past. But now, after everything that had happened at the track meet without him getting so much as a slap on the wrist, Brady was ready to take it further.

He'd already realized that there were little things he could get away with – pushing the boundaries in small ways without breaking any rules – that Dean just took with a whimper and some tears. Like spitting into that gushy pink hole, spreading it out for himself to look at, letting his hands linger a little too long on the young fucktoy’s butt and thighs. Fucking the omega’s ass with the school-issued anal plug the first time had been really pushing it, but Dean hadn't said anything to anyone. And he hadn't said anything each time Brady had done it since then, either.

It was like boiling a frog, really. The omega was already conditioned to be so submissive that he didn't make a fuss when Brady toed the line, and each incremental step forward didn't seem like enough of a difference for him to start complaining now. By the time Brady finally crossed it, he doubted that the little fucktoy would even be able to tell.

It wasn't just how Brady touched and treated the omega that had changed, either. He'd noticed that the students had become even more ambitious in their use of the little slut (if that was even possible). It seemed that word had spread from the eighth grade track meet attendees about what Dean’s little omega hole had been able to take, and the other young alphas at school were understandably enthusiastic about experimenting with it themselves. After all, who wouldn't be?

“Dude, how are you doing that?” asked one such alpha as he watched his friend feed a long string of anal beads into the omega's already packed cunt. 

The school’s health class had a wide variety of sex toys and BDSM gear that were used for sex education – demonstrated on the omega students, of course – and they all got stored in the omega use room, which had the space for it. Today's alpha tweens had pulled down a box of variously sized anal beads and were trying to get as many of them as they could fit into the young omega’s reluctant hole.

“Once you get them through the pelvis, there's a whole bunch of space inside that the omega hole can stretch and fill,” the alpha’s friend replied.

“Yeah, I know, but like… I tried this on that chubby ginger omega last week during his free use period, and he couldn't take that much. How does Winchester fit it all?”

The alpha using Dean’s cunt shrugged. “I mean, everyone says he's the sluttiest. He definitely makes the most slick, I guess it makes sense if he can stretch the most, too.” He directed his attention back to Dean and pinched the soft flesh of one of his plump asscheeks to get the omega’s attention. “Hey, Winchester, do you know why your cunt fits so much stuff?”

Dean made a whimpery little noise. “I. Um. I don't know.” 

The alpha finished inserting all of the beads on his current string and then he pushed his closed fist up against the bulging rim of the omega’s used cunt, using his knuckles to shove everything in as deep as he could. It had really looked packed to overflowing before, but by the end of his determined shove, the hungry little cunt had slurped up half of his small fist.

“Nngh!” Dean whined. Fucking drama queen; Brady knew that whatever was in there wasn't even half as much as the garbage he'd been packed with just a few weeks ago. And the alpha kid’s fist was a breeze compared to some of the beefed-up middle-aged alphas that had punched into his slutty hole.

“Give me another string,” the alpha kid said, holding out his hand to his friend while Dean made a truly pathetic noise of half-hearted protest, his breaths turning rapid and shuddery. Brady let out a breath of his own and adjusted himself in his pants.

The alpha had managed to work half the beads into the omega fucktoy's hole when the bell rang. “Fuck!” the alpha cursed.

“Language,” Brady chided lazily from the desk.

“Dude, we’re gonna be late to fourth period,” the other boy complained, punching his friend in the arm. Brady waved his hand.

“Don't worry about it, kids. I'll take care of it. You go on to class.”

“You sure, Coach Brady?”

“Yeah, scram.”

Honestly, Brady couldn't believe his luck. He approached the bench that the young omega was strapped to with barely-disguised excitement; the fucktoy was trembling in his restraints, the strained rim of his omega hole sucking around its massive clutch of toys. It was bulging with it, distended and taut and lumpy like an overstuffed bag of marbles. Half of the string that the alphas had abandoned partway hung out of the gaping entrance and swayed slightly, bumping occasionally against the omega’s steel cock cage and making a tiny sound.

“Well, that’s unexpected,” Brady said as if he hadn't just spent the last hour watching the beads get stuffed in there. “I didn't realize the hole was this full before they left. Maybe I should've made them stick around and clean up their mess.” He reached out and ran the tips of his fingers around the outside of the stretched rim, watching it flinch under his caress. “Oh, well. Nothing to do about it now.”

“Please, Coach Brady,” Dean said softly. “I. I need to go to lunch.”

Brady shushed him, patting his pert behind with one hand as he grabbed the key to the cock cage that he kept around his neck with the other. “Shh, relax, I’ll have you free in no time. Demanding little fucktoy, aren't you.”

He unlocked the cock cage and pulled it down and away from the fucktoy’s soft little penis and balls. To Brady’s delight, the fucktoy’s little cock immediately twitched and began to fill. This was a novelty; usually by the time Brady removed the cock cage, Dean was all emptied out and stinging from the cleansing wipes, and his little dick stayed limp. Brady had to admit that he liked the change.

The omega’s erection made him thicken, and his hard little cock hung pointed down at the floor. His testicles swelled and tightened, dusky pink and sweet. Brady grabbed the base of the steel butt plug next, tugging on it and watching the tight little furl of that clenching asshole give it up incrementally. He didn't add lube and go slow to ease the way when he pulled out the butt plug anymore; he just yanked it out dry. He liked to hear the little fucktoy mewl.

“Unnh!” Dean keened as his asshole stretched dryly around the steel plug and then, finally, released it. Brady caught a fleeting glimpse of those deep red guts chasing after the glinting metal for just a moment before they were sucked back inside and the fucktoy’s sore rim gently closed around them.

“What a sick slut,” Brady tutted. He dropped the cock cage and the plug into the waiting plastic tub that he'd positioned under the young fucktoy's hips and then reached out, grabbing the string of anal beads that was still dangling out of the abused omega hole between two fingers. He drew it back like a pendulum and then let it go so that it swang back down and thwacked against those cute little balls. The little slut flinched and yelped. “Your cunt looks disgusting, it's all stretched out and lumpy. Jesus, I have no idea what alphas see in it. And you’re getting off on it, too.”

Giddily, Brady withdrew his phone and took a few photos of that flushed-pink hard omega cock, those tight little balls, and the messy, distended hole above them oozing slick. Now that the plug wasn't in his ass anymore, the fucktoy’s asshole was barely visible. The bulging rim of the gaped cunt just underneath it squished it and made it practically disappear.

“You really are all filled up,” Brady said, and walked away back towards his desk to grab two of the long latex gloves from the pack that was provided to the monitors to wear when cleaning up. He pulled them on with a snap and smiled. “I’m gonna have to empty you out. Don't worry, I'll be very careful.”

When he approached the omega again, he changed his camera settings to record and started a video, then carefully tucked his phone into his chest pocket so that the camera had full view of the young omega’s back end as he slid up a chair behind it and got to work. He started with the dangling string – the anal beads on it were about a half-inch wide – and pulled it out slowly, so slowly, so the fucktoy would really feel it.

“Mmmh,” Dean sighed, and Brady’s cock began to fill in his pants.

Once the final bead on the string popped out, the rest of the ones still inside shifted around and eased towards the entrance, making it bulge out a little more.

“Can you push the rest out, now?” Brady asked, “Or am I gonna have to get my hand even dirtier?”

“I. I don't know.” The omega sounded nervous, his voice thin and soft. Brady liked that he was even more shy and subdued around him now. 

“Then give it a shot,” Brady ordered, landing a sharp slap on the back of the fucktoy’s thigh. Dean flinched and nodded and then his ribs expanded as he breathed deep and huffed it all out with a little grunt as he strained. The large clump of beads slowly began to exit his dripping pink cavern, and Brady held out two of his fingers and pushed back against the toys to keep them in place. Dean continued to strain to no avail, not aware of Brady’s obstruction, until he finally released and gasped for breath while Brady surreptitiously pushed the tangle of beads delicately back into the slick hole with his fingertips and a delighted smile.

“Are your cunt muscles really that worn out?” he asked mockingly. “What a sloppy, disgusting slut. You must've been wrecked after that track meet if you can't even push out a few toys like this, huh?” He put both palms against the fucktoy’s soft ass and squeezed, dimpling the skin and imagining tiny blue bruises blooming under his fingertips. “You were a pretty godawful cocksleeve, you know. Couldn't even stay tight enough to please all the alphas there. I got plenty of feedback from the attendees; they said you were acceptable at first but that by the end, your slutty omega hole was as loose and saggy as a garbage bag.”

Dean was trembling, shaking his head and shifting on the bench. His cock was flushed deep, now, slick welling up through his slit and dripping down onto the floor between his legs.

“I heard about it, you know,” Brady added, lowly, as he thumbed around the slick edges of the fucktoy’s hole. “That this disgusting cunt was so stretched out and sloppy that people just thought it was a garbage hole. That it got filled up with everyone’s trash, and some poor alpha high schooler had to clean it out. I can't imagine how grossed out he must've been. Did he fuck you after? Some alphas are sick like that.”

The poor fucktoy shook his head again. “N-no,” he stuttered. “Benny didn't, he, he didn’t… He didn't. He said I’d… He said…”

Brady felt a spark of recognition at the name; hadn't the high schoolers that came to use the little slut on their lunch break been talking about someone named Benny spending time with the omega after school lately? Being all sweet on him? Davis had told Brady that he'd send the track team captain to take care of the omega after the meet, but Brady hadn't known the captain's name. Seems that this ‘Benny’ and that high schooler were one and the same.

“Yeah, I bet he didn't,” Brady interrupted the fucktoy’s stammering, a sly smile stretching across his face though he tried to keep the lilt from his voice. “Why would he want to stick his dick in a garbage hole? Gross. I’m not surprised he refused. I wouldn't be surprised if he still hasn’t fucked you because he's too repulsed by your disgusting garbage cunt.”

Dean sucked in a sharp breath and his body went tense. Brady reached his gloved fingers into the omega’s packed hole and grabbed another string of anal beads to pull out. These beads were a little bigger, and he'd grabbed them in the middle so they came out two at a time. He started slow again, but then yanked them out suddenly with a zip. The vibrations of them passing over the other beads and through the omega’s slick rim went straight to Dean’s cock and made it bounce and twitch.

“I’m right, aren't I? He hasn't used you with his cock yet?” Brady asked. Dean said nothing, just trembled as Brady fished around inside for another string of beads, careful not to touch the walls of the slackened channel (or, well, careful to touch it as little as possible; it was quite difficult to avoid, with the fucktoy’s cunt being so small and his hand being so large). “Bet he tells you he thinks you're real sweet. Bet he acts all nice to you ‘cause he feels sorry for you. He pretends your nasty, slutty little hole doesn't gross him out because he doesn't want to hurt your feelings.” Dean’s breath was hitching as Brady yanked out another string of beads. “I guess he must like you a lot if he's willing to let you hang around with him, when you're nothing but a slutty fucktoy with a used-up hole too disgusting to even put a cock inside. Or maybe he's just too nice of an alpha to tell you to get lost.”

“Unh!” Dean let out a little punched-out moan that sounded more like a sob as Brady yanked the next string from him. It was a long string of big fat beads, an inch wide each, and along with it came several others that had been wrapped around it and linked together. The omega arched his back at the sensation, four or five beads bumping and zipping across his swollen rim at once. His softened little asshole clamped down while the walls of his omega hole spasmed and heaved and then spewed up the tangled mess of the rest of the anal beads. They splatted into the plastic tub beneath him in a slimy pile, strings of slick dripping down on top of them from the gaping hole they'd left behind; and then, on top of that, a rope of clear omega cum shot out of Dean’s hard little cock as he came.

Brady palmed his own rock-hard cock with one hand and fumbled his phone out of his pocket with the other so that he could stop the recording and take a few delicious photos. 

That tight little ass, sore and softened from the plug, was contracting with Dean’s heaving breaths. That gaping, slutty omega hole was wide open and glistening pink inside, walls sucking and sliding against each other and then ballooning out to reveal the stretched, shadowy depths. That blushing cock was still hard and twitching, hanging heavy between his legs and pointing straight down at the floor, slick drooling out of the slit as the sweet-faced omega trembled through the aftershocks of his orgasm. His soft, dusky balls had been pulled up tight against him – out of the way of any cock or other object that someone might want to shove inside – but they were relaxing now, beginning to loosen and drop back down a little bit. They didn't hang the way a man’s did, but then again the fucktoy didn't even have hair on them yet.

“You really are a disgusting slut,” Brady said, as much an insult as an observation. “I can't imagine your Alpha knows just how much of a slut you are, or he'd have gotten rid of you ages ago.”

“M-my Alpha says… he says… I’m wonderful,” Dean said quietly. “He… he loves me.” His words were spoken so softly that perhaps Brady wasn't even meant to hear them.

“Well, there's no accounting for taste,” Brady mused, dragging a latex-covered finger through the trails of slick dripping down the fucktoy’s inner thighs and then giving his ass a firm, wet smack. “And parents tend to look past their children’s flaws. If he could see you objectively, I don't think he'd feel the same.”

Later that night after school was out, Brady carefully sorted through his photos and edited the video he'd taken. Then he posted the best shots to Reddit and let the karma rake in.

Dean Winchester was Brady’s favorite slutty little fucktoy, and Brady planned to boil him alive.

—

Chapter 17: Omega Check-Up

“John Winchester?” A medical assistant in pale green scrubs was standing in the open door that led back to the medical rooms, looking expectantly around the waiting area. John waved acknowledgement and stood, then turned to smile at Dean, who'd been nervously looking through the photos in a rumpled auto magazine while they waited.

“Ready, kiddo?” John asked, and Dean nodded and got to his feet. John put a comforting hand on his son’s back and gently steered him towards the medical assistant, who was waiting expectantly by the door.

This was Dean’s third of his routine omega check-ups. They were government-prescribed and occurred annually up until the omega came into its slick, after which the frequency increased to quarterly until it was fully grown. Luckily, omega healthcare was fully covered by the government and there was no cost at the point of service (a necessary public investment to ensure the longevity of the government-owned fuckhole that each omega was attached to), which meant that the extra check-ups didn't put a strain on John’s wallet. Unlike other Alphas who would prefer not to spend their own money on maintaining their omegas, John would of course have been willing to cover any medical expenses that Dean were to ever require… but that didn't mean that it wasn't a significant weight off of his shoulders to not have to worry about medical bills for one of his sons. It was certainly comforting to know that Dean’s needs would never be a source of financial stress in his life.

“I’m Alfie, I'm one of Dr. Roberts' medical assistants and I’ll be helping you out today before she sees you,” the beta man introduced himself with a pleasant smile. “We’re taking measurements first,” he continued once the three of them had passed through the door and entered the hallway. They arrived at a recessed alcove that housed a scale and wall-mounted measuring stick, as well as various other instruments. “You can remove your omega's clothes and put them in this bag.” 

Alfie held a transparent plastic bag out to John, who took it readily and gave Dean an encouraging pat on his back. Dean undressed quickly, passing his shoes, socks, and then pants and shirt to his father, who deposited them easily into the plastic bag. Once Dean was standing naked in the hallway, Alfie directed him to step onto the scale and then put his back to the wall, noting down the omega’s weight and height on his clipboard. Then he took Dean’s temperature, pulse and blood pressure.

“Everything looks normal,” Alfie said, smiling encouragingly at John. “Your omega has a strong heart. I’m sure it can withstand a lot of use.”

John just smiled and nodded while the assistant took out some measuring tape. He maneuvered Dean into the center of the alcove, where he began to move around the omega with his measuring device. He efficiently measured and recorded the length of Dean's arms and legs, and then the size of his hands and feet. Finally, Alfie measured the length and girth of Dean’s penis, and then used calipers to determine the size of his testicles. Dean let out a slight noise of discomfort at the feeling of the metal calipers closing around his little balls, but the assistant’s touch was quick and clinical and it didn't last more than a moment.

“Hmm,” Alfie said as his eyes flitted over the notes he'd taken. “Your omega's genitals have grown since its last check-up, as have its hands and feet. It has also grown a quarter of an inch in height.” The beta man tapped his pen against his clipboard and looked up at John. “Your omega is at risk of reaching average, or even above-average male proportions if normal puberty is continued. I’ll go ahead and submit a referral to urology for castration…”

Dean’s eyes widened and his freckles stood out darkly as all color fled his face. John could even see his son’s little penis and balls shrink with fear and draw up tightly between his legs just before Dean’s hands instinctually moved to cover them protectively. John immediately stepped forward into the space, putting his body between his son and the medical assistant and pulling Dean protectively against him. He felt Dean’s cold nose nudge him through his T-shirt while Dean nuzzled against his ribs.

“That won’t be necessary,” John said flatly. “I was asked if I wanted that referral at his last appointment; I said ‘no’ then, and that’s still my answer. My son will not be subjected to any medically-unnecessary procedures.”

Looking a little shocked, Alfie tried to backtrack, searching for a way to alleviate his apparent misstep.

“Oh, um, my apologies, Mr. Winchester, it's just a routine referral,” the assistant nervously stammered as he stumbled back from the Alpha and his anxious omega. “This procedure is seen as medically necessary, that's why it's the only omega modification that has no out-of-pocket costs… Large bodies of medical research have shown that Alphas report higher average levels of overall ownership satisfaction when their omega is cut, including notably increased pleasure during the use of the omega…” 

The beta man was rattling off the information with the rote delivery of a medical manual but the panicked tone of someone bartering for their life, all while John watched him, stony-faced and unimpressed.

“There is also a statistically significant improvement in the average cut omega's quality of life as reported by their Alphas,” the beta continued hurriedly. “The procedure eliminates unwanted erections and penile ejaculation, as well as all medical risks of testicular injuries or illness… It’s also theorized to reduce slick-related mental pathologies, and overall leads to a more physically and behaviorally desirable omega…” 

“I’m not a statistic, and neither is my son,” John growled. “I’m pretty sure I know what will bring me and my omega satisfaction better than any study.” Alfie looked suitably castigated, lowering his head to stare at his clipboard. He cowered slightly away from John, whose possessive scent was beginning to fill the hallway. Dean inhaled it and melted against his Alpha’s side, and John smoothed his big palm over his son’s soft hair in silent reassurance.

“Like I already said, I will not be having my omega cut,” John reiterated with a tone of finality. “Please note that in his records so I don't have to say it again. I am more than satisfied with my omega’s behavior and his body. He's the perfect omega just as he is, regardless of how tall he grows or how big his penis gets.”

While John had to admit that he hadn't always been as forward-thinking on omega welfare as he’d grown to be since the birth of his eldest, he could proudly say that he'd always thought of the practice of cutting omegas as needless and cruel… on top of being a pretty reliable indicator of alpha insecurity. Alphas could jabber all they wanted about how cut omegas made for more pleasurable cocksleeves, but it wasn't any great feat to look past the machismo and see that really, alphas – and honestly, beta men too – just didn't like to be reminded that it was technically possible for them to lose to an omega in a (literal or metaphorical) dick-measuring contest. Made them feel like less of a man.

John had no such insecurity. He knew who he was, and no man could take that confidence away from him, let alone his son. It didn't matter one iota to John whether Dean ended up growing to be his height or even taller; he would always be John’s baby no matter how big he got. And if Dean’s penis somehow ended up bigger than John’s – unlikely, given that both John’s cock and his knot were well above average – then so be it. He wanted his son to experience pleasure to the fullest possible extent.

Of course, Dean would still enjoy being used even if he was castrated – he’d still have his omega hole, after all, and his slutty body got its fulfillment from using that hole to pleasure alphas – but why needlessly remove the utility of his lovely little dick when John knew that it would so upset his son to have his body changed in that way? Not even to mention the fact that John liked Dean’s cute little balls and the way that he blushed so prettily whenever anyone noticed his hard-ons.

Plus, John acknowledged wryly, if he got rid of Dean’s balls then Sam would throw a fit. Making Dean’s cock spurt was one of the young alpha’s favorite things to do.

“I understand, Mr. Winchester,” the admonished medical assistant said, still avoiding looking into John’s eyes. “I’ll be sure to make note of that in your omega’s records. It shouldn't come up again unless you change your mind.”

“I won't change my mind,” John replied, and felt Dean’s fingers curl into his shirt while the boy continued to nuzzle under his arm. John chuckled and petted his son’s hair as he smelled Dean slick up a little with gratitude and relief. His boy’s slutty little hole was really something else.

“Of course, but…” Alfie hesitated and thought better of sticking his foot in his mouth again. “... Of course. Now, if you’ll just follow me, you'll be in Room Four today.”

With Dean still clinging to his side, John’s hand warm and gentle on the back of his head, John followed the young medical assistant through the wide hall to a brightly-colored room.

“You can sit your omega up there,” Alfie said, gesturing to the padded medical exam table, which was covered by white paper. “And you can sit in one of the chairs while we cover the usual questions.”

John had to pry Dean away from him, but eventually Dean relented and went to climb up onto the exam table by himself. They went through the routine questions quickly – Dean was up to date on his vaccinations as of the previous check-up, and wasn't taking any prescription medications – and then Alfie gave John a nervous smile and said goodbye.

“Dr. Roberts will be with you in a few minutes, she's just wrapping up with another patient,” Alfie assured him. “I’ll close the door to give you a little privacy.”

As soon as the door had closed, John stood and went over to the exam table to rub Dean’s back.

“How you doin’, bud?” he asked, and Dean shrugged. Now that the medical assistant wasn't in the room distracting them with questions, Dean was eyeing the stirrups at the end of the exam table with apprehension.

“Okay, I guess.”

“A little nervous, maybe?”

Dean pouted and slumped forward a little bit, letting his dad run his warm, calloused palm all the way up and down the length of his spine. “Maybe. Just a little.”

John chuckled. “It's okay to be a little nervous. You know how brave your mother was, and she used to get nervous every time she had a check-up like this.”

Dean liked Dr. Roberts, who had been his doctor ever since he’d come into slick and had to transfer away from their family physician to an assigned omega specialist. She was friendly and gentle and always treated Dean with care and respect (something that John was endlessly grateful for since the process for applying for a new assignment was tedious and applications were frequently denied). But no matter how much you liked your doctor, it was always a little scary to watch as they clinically inserted harsh-looking medical instruments into your body. Mary had loved her gynecologist, but she'd still had to take a Xanax every time she went.

John continued to rub his son’s bare back with one hand and parted Dean’s thighs with the other, moving his fingers up between his son’s legs and under those precious little balls to dip into the slick heat of the boy’s omega hole. He wanted to distract Dean a little from the earlier discussion with the medical assistant, and reward him for being good so far. Dean’s breath hitched and he leaned into his dad’s warmth, his softened hole fluttering against John’s palm; John hadn't used his son at all yet that day, but Dean had clearly been well used at school.

“Be a brave boy for me, just like your mother,” John told Dean affectionately, pressing a chaste kiss to the top of his tousled head, “And we’ll get you a burger on the way home. How's that sound?”

“And a milkshake?” Dean asked, shivering against him while his slick cunt sucked on the two fingers that John had slid inside. John laughed.

“We’ll see.”

John continued to rub Dean’s back and soothingly finger him for another several minutes, entertaining himself with the little moans that he could force from between his son's plush lips and the slick noises that he could make with his son’s pink cunt, until there was a knock on the door.

“Mr. Winchester?” a feminine voice sounded.

“Come in!” John called back after withdrawing his hand from between Dean’s legs. He wiped his slippery fingers off on the paper cover next to Dean’s hip.

Dr. Roberts, a woman with long and silky dark hair, entered the room and greeted both John and Dean with a warm smile.

“I’ve been looking forward to this day all week,” she told them cheerfully, closing the door behind her and squirting hand sanitizer from the wall dispenser onto her hands. She rubbed them together while she stepped up towards the exam table with her clipboard tucked underneath her arm. “I love getting to see my favorite patient!”

“Doctors don’t have favorite patients,” Dean objected, eyes narrowing. Dr. Roberts winked at him conspiratorially.

“Well, we’re not supposed to,” she said with a nod, “But I can keep it a secret if you can.”

John chuckled, and Dean looked reluctantly pleased and squirmed on the table. With a smile, Dr. Roberts went about opening drawers and pulling out supplies; a metal tray and a limited assortment of gleaming metal omega hole speculums.

“So, last time I saw you it was summer vacation,” Dr. Roberts said to Dean. “You must have started school since then. Are you enjoying your classes?”

“Yeah,” Dean answered shyly. “I’m learning how to convert fractions to decimals.”

“Dean is a very good student,” John offered, patting his son’s shoulder. “He studies very hard and always tries his best.” John was very proud of his son; unlike other kids, Dean would never have to get a job and all of his body’s needs would always be met by his Alpha, but the boy worked hard in school anyway. One might assume that an omega with such an incredibly slutty body would naturally be inclined to have even more than the typical omega brain deficiency, but Dean proved that assumption dead wrong. Sometimes it even seemed like the boy would rather do his homework than have his hungry little cunt filled.

“That’s impressive! When I was your age, I never wanted to study. My parents used to have to force me to do my homework. They'd sit me at the dinner table and wouldn’t let me go to bed until I was finished.” Dean smiled and let out a tentative little laugh, and his doctor smiled back as she set the metal tray of tools down onto the counter next to the exam table along with an unopened sterile packet of lubricating gel. John playfully nudged his son’s shoulder.

“I never need to make Dean study, he just does it himself. If anything, sometimes he works so hard on his schoolwork that Sammy and I start to miss him. If he’s really taking too long to finish, I sit at the table with him and we work through it together while he’s warming my cock.”

Dr. Roberts smiled sincerely. “That sounds lovely. I’m always happy to hear about my omega patients getting to spend quality time with their Alphas; that’s very important for omega development. And for you two, I’m sure that kind of father-son bonding is very special.”

“It certainly is.” John brushed Dean’s hair away from his forehead and then rubbed the side of his thumb against Dean’s scent gland with unmasked affection while Dean looked bashfully down at his naked thighs.

Dr. Roberts finished getting her supplies together and sat down in her wheeled chair, pulling on a pair of sterile latex gloves. Then she efficiently rolled over to the foot of the exam table where she tapped her hand on the stirrups.

“Well, I love catching up with my favorite patient, but I’m sure you want to get out of here as fast as possible. Right, Dean?” Dean hesitated, obviously unsure whether or not it would be rude to agree, but Dr. Roberts just laughed. “Don’t worry, it won’t hurt my feelings if you say yes. I don’t much like having a doctor poke around my insides either. Now, Mr. Winchester, if you don't mind stepping back and taking a seat…? Yes, that’s perfect. Dean, can you go ahead and put your feet up here for me? You know the drill.”

Dean shifted his hips forward and then lifted his feet, stretching his legs out and letting the doctor guide his heels into the stirrup rests. Dr. Roberts adeptly fastened the leather cuffs attached to the stirrups around the boy’s ankles so that he could be comfortably kept in place. After testing the bonds and ensuring that they were pleasantly tight the way that omegas needed, she gestured, encouraging Dean to scoot his butt further down the table until his thighs were widely spread. She then wrapped the second set of cuffs – which were dangling from the stirrups on cords about a foot long – around the young omega’s wrists, which allowed his arms limited movement but kept his hands mostly at his hips.

“Good boy,” Dr. Roberts praised, and Dean’s cheeks pinked as his cunt drooled a little. Dr. Roberts reached out to catch the drip on her gloved thumb and then spread it around the little hole's blushing entrance. “Looks like someone’s all ready for me! I don’t know why I ever bring out the medical lube for your appointments; I never have to use it on your expert omega hole,” Dr. Roberts teased. She then put her clean hand to the side of her mouth and faux-whispered, “You're a lucky boy; the fake stuff is nasty. It's nowhere near as nice as your lovely slick… and it smells yucky, too.”

The young omega smiled shyly, and Dr. Roberts patted his thigh before clinically fingering his softened cunt a little, testing its looseness. Then, she lifted a long silicone probe about the girth of a pencil and inserted it fully into Dean’s hole. When she pulled it back out, she eyed the length that had coated in slick and then nodded and turned to her metal tray on the table beside her, where she selected the middle size of the three speculums. Dean’s smile quickly faded as he stared at the imposing metal device with trepidation; it was a bigger size than he was used to.

Omega hole speculums were similar to vaginal speculums (at least from what John could remember from taking Mary to her appointments): two gently curved metal blades that came together like the beak of a duck and a mechanism to spread them apart. However, the wide part of the curved blades was a bit broader for omega hole speculums, and they were about twice as long to account for the significantly greater depth of omega holes compared to vaginas.

“At your previous appointments we’ve always used the small size, which is what we use on young omegas like yourself after they come into slick,” the doctor explained her choice with calm and straightforward language. “However, I can feel that your entrance is much stretchier now and your depth has increased, so I think that the middle size is appropriate. Usually this is the size that we use on adult omegas, but being able to take it at your age is perfectly normal. It all just depends on the individual omega hole.” She brandished the speculum in her hand at the largest size on the tray, a true beast that looked to be longer than twelve inches with blades almost as wide as John’s hand. “I never expect to need to use the large size, but it’s better to have it out, just in case, so if I do then I don’t have to embarrass myself by going back to dig around in the cupboard.”

Dean was able to force a weak smile, but he still looked ashen as his eyes tracked the speculum in the doctor’s hand.

“C’mon, Deano. You've had much bigger things in your hole than that,” John encouraged his son. Dr. Roberts nodded.

“It’s friendlier than it looks,” she said gently. “You’ve done this plenty of times before, remember? I’m only using the bigger size because your hole is looser and deeper than it used to be, so it should feel almost the same. It won't hurt. You'll just feel a little cold and then maybe a pinch when I open it up, and I want you to let me know at any time if anything feels weird or uncomfortable. After that, the internal exam will only take a minute. Okay? Are you ready?” Dean nodded silently. “That’s a good boy.”

Dean watched with a pale face while the doctor lowered the speculum between his legs and slowly inserted the long, curved blades into his glistening cunt using only his ready slick as lubrication. Dr. Roberts focused her gaze between the boy’s widely spread legs and began to dilate the speculum once it had been fully inserted. Little mechanical clicks could be heard as the blades spread hugely, pulling Dean’s tense hole open until it gaped. His dripping walls fluttered shyly as they were clinically observed by the kind beta woman.

“How’s he looking, Doctor?” John asked, making his voice sound cheerful.

“Fantastic, as always,” Dr. Roberts responded. “There's that beautiful, healthy pink color that I love to see.” She peered around inside, shining a penlight into the shadowed recesses of the young hole. “Everything looks normal. No irregular inflammation or visible granulation.” She tucked the penlight back into her breast pocket and then reached a couple of gloved fingers into the gaping cunt and smoothed them around the stretched walls, examining the silky inner flesh. “I feel no signs of atrophy or erosion, and there's ample elasticity.” She chuckled. “Excessive slick production, but we know that's normal for this very special omega hole, so it's nothing to be concerned about.” She withdrew her hand and smiled up at Dean’s nervous expression. “Just as I’d expected; nothing but stellar marks for my favorite patient. If I could give your omega hole a blue ribbon, I would.”

“What do you say, Dean?” John asked his son. Dean ducked his head and blushed.

“Thanks, Dr. Roberts,” he offered. The doctor closed the speculum and then smoothly slid it out of the young boy’s body before thumbing at the still-stretched rim of his softly closing hole, wiping away a thick drip of slick and then patting the delicate rim with affection.

“Don’t mention it. I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it.” She set the speculum, now glistening with Dean’s slick, back onto the metal tray and then began to pull her gloves off with a snap. “All done! That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Dean shook his head, and Dr. Roberts smiled at him before turning to John. “Now that the internal examination is out of the way, I did want to discuss something with you before you leave.”

“Is something wrong with me?” Dean asked, face awash with dismay. Dr. Roberts shook her head and squeezed his ankle, which was still cuffed to the stirrup.

“No, nothing like that. It's about the conversation you had with my medical assistant earlier, Mr. Winchester. Alfie informed me that you requested to have it noted in Dean’s records that you will not be having him castrated?”

“That’s right,” John answered slowly. He hadn't expected Dr. Roberts to be the kind of person to object to that decision; she'd never made any comment about Dean’s testicles that would indicate that she would pressure John to have them removed. “I want to keep him intact. I prefer him that way, and that’s what Dean wants. That's not… That won't be an issue, will it?”

“Oh, no no, that's absolutely fine,” Dr. Roberts assured him, much to both John and Dean’s visible relief. “Dean is very physically healthy and shows no sign of abnormal mental pathology, so I have no medical concerns about that. But I felt it was my responsibility as Dean’s doctor to make sure that you were aware of all of the risks.”

“Risks...?” John was confused. “... Of not having him cut? I don't understand... Why would there be risks? Those theories about intact omegas being more susceptible to slick-addlement are unproven, from what I'd heard.”

“That's certainly true, there's not a large enough body of evidence to make any definitive claims about how neglecting to castrate an omega impacts its mental faculties,” Dr. Roberts agreed. “It’s possible, of course; but in my own medical opinion, unlikely. That's not my concern, however. What I want is to make sure you're aware that keeping Dean uncut may expose him to more… intense use.” 

John’s shock must have been visible on his face, because the beta doctor nodded seriously at him before solemnly continuing.

“Many Alphas report that their uncut omegas see heavier and more aggressive treatment from other alphas. And, statistically speaking, omegas that experience both temporary and permanent damage from overuse are disproportionately uncut.” Dean shivered and tried to close his legs, but the cuffs kept him spread wide in the stirrups and prevented him from covering himself with his hands. His little hole twitched and clenched, pink walls tightening and forcing out a bit of accumulated slick. “Most omegas Dean’s age have already undergone the procedure, so you might have already begun to notice him receiving some of this kind of attention.”

John nodded slowly, thinking of the horrible bruising that had marred the delicate flesh between his son’s legs for the better part of several days after the track meet. Dean had shown up from school a couple times since then with similar, though much lighter bruising. That aspect of keeping Dean intact hadn't really occurred to John, but now that the doctor had brought it up, he easily recalled various locker room conversations that he'd been privy to in which other alphas had joked about brutalizing uncut omegas to teach them their place. He shivered, feeling his gut sink as he looked at his son’s sweet young body and imagined it littered with more painful dark bruises; imagined that precious omega hole as nothing but a sloppy, messy ruin between Dean’s lovely legs.

“I suppose that might be true,” he admitted, forcefully preventing his worry from sounding in his voice. He didn't want to frighten his son. “Dean helped out at a high school event about a month ago, and he's been taking much larger insertions than he's used to ever since then. My youngest son and I are always careful, but… Other alphas can get a little rough.”

“They punch me,” Dean added quietly. “Um. My hole, I mean. Alphas punch-fuck it now. They, um, didn't used to.”

Dean’s words made John realize something. “I’m not sure if that’s because he's uncut, though,” he reflected. “Dean’s hole has very high needs, you know, it attracts a lot of attention all by itself. Alphas treat it very roughly even when he's caged or in bondage where they can't see his balls. The first time he was punch-fucked, he was in a glory booth where the only thing they could see was his hole. Right, Dean?”

Dean nodded slowly, but he wasn't looking at John or Dr. Roberts anymore; his eyes appeared glazed over, like he was watching something far away.

John was used to seeing Dean like that; sometimes his son zoned out, distracted by hazy memories of pleasure awakening his hungry cunt. The first few times that it had happened had been concerning. John had even called the omega health hotline, but the nurse on the phone had assured him that such a display was quite normal for omegas; they couldn't help but to have their minds addled at times by their greedy holes. Even as John watched, Dean’s breath started to come in short little bursts and his face flickered into an expression that could be confused for distress; but his slutty cunt spasmed and blurted slick out onto the paper cover underneath him. John was glad that at least Dean’s mind and body could derive some pleasure from the memories of that event, even if it had been so shocking and overwhelming for him at the time.

Dr. Roberts nodded. “I see. So it's certainly possible that having Dean cut wouldn't have any impact on the type of use he receives.” She turned back to Dean and roused him from his daze with a gentle squeeze of his curled toes. “What's the biggest insertion your omega hole has taken, Dean?” she asked him gently. Dean took a moment to blink and gather himself, processing the question. Then, he bit his lip and looked at his dad, who nodded, before turning back to his doctor.

“Um… I don’t know,” he said hesitantly. “Do you mean… Like, the biggest one thing? ‘Cause. ‘Cause I've had. Um. A lot of, um, little things. Inside. At once.”

“I see. Have you had your belly bulge before from being filled?” Dean nodded. “Alright. I'm going to hold my hands over your stomach, and I want you to let me know when I'm at how big you've been stretched.”

Dr. Roberts rested her palms over Dean’s slender abdomen and then slowly lifted them away, miming as though the boy’s belly was inflating underneath her hands. When they'd reached the height of a small mound, John spoke up.

“My youngest filled him up about that much the other day,” he noted.

“Is that the biggest?” Dr. Roberts asked, and Dean shook his head, face red and eyes shining with unshed tears.

John watched with equal parts awe and sadness as Dr. Roberts continued to raise her hands until Dean finally told her to stop at about the height they'd be if Dean’s belly had been stuffed to the size of a small soccer ball. John was endlessly impressed by how much his son’s slutty body could take, but he wished that he could have been there whenever this had happened; to comfort and motivate his son through such an intense feat. 

“That's a very big belly bulge, Dean,” Dr. Roberts told him softly, lowering her hands again to rub his belly. His soft skin shivered under her warm touch. “That must have been a little scary.”

Dean’s lower lip wobbled and he nodded, a few tears escaping his shining eyes and toppling down his blushing cheeks. John’s heart clenched.

“Can you tell me about how it felt for you?” the doctor asked, hand still soothingly rubbing in circles over his stomach.

“Um. I’m… I’m not sure,” Dean said, his voice trembling and quiet. He glanced nervously between the two adults in the small room. “I guess it felt. Um.” His breath became shaky, speeding up again. “I dunno. I get confused sometimes,” he finally whispered.

“What do you mean?” Dr. Roberts asked.

“I, I know I liked it,” Dean said. “I know I always like it. I got all slick. But.” He sniffled, lip continuing to wobble, “I think… I think it felt bad,” he confessed. Dr. Roberts nodded soberly.

“Does that mean he's sick?” John asked worriedly. The doctor shook her head.

“No, not at all. That's very normal, Dean,” she comforted the tearful omega. “A lot of omegas feel that way the first few times they experience a new kind of use, especially one that makes their body do strange and unfamiliar things. Confusion about how that makes you feel is perfectly normal.” She gave Dean’s belly a final pat and then rolled her chair back and stood to open one of the big storage cabinets against the wall and begin to look through it.

“Now,” she continued, “I believe part of Dean’s confusion comes from the physical discomfort posed by being filled to that point so suddenly without prior training. You see, filling the omega hole to the point of a belly bulge that big takes up a lot of space in the body. For it to happen comfortably, the rest of the organs have to move away and find a new temporary resting place. But sometimes – especially if you experience a very large belly bulge without having worked up to it – the other organs don't know where to go, and instead they stay in the same place and end up getting squished. If that happens, it doesn’t matter how much you enjoy it; of course it's going to feel bad.”

Dr. Roberts finally returned with a cardboard box in hand. She handed it to John for him to examine.

“I’m going to prescribe the use of this device to Dean. It’s not something I'd typically prescribe to such a young omega, but given Dean’s experience and what you’ve told me about how his use has changed recently, I think it will greatly benefit him and reduce the health risks associated with the type of use he's getting.”

“What is it?” John asked. The picture on the box showed a long, narrow black shape attached to some kind of hand pump mechanism by a tube.

“It's an inflation trainer,” Dr. Roberts explained. “Go ahead and open it.” 

John did so and unwrapped the device from its sterile plastic cover. It appeared as similar to some sort of hard silicone anal plug, but the insertion-end didn't come to a blunt tip; instead a stiff, inflexible tube sprouted from it, one that seemed to go through the full length of the plug. The plug and the narrow tube together were approximately five inches long, and blooming from the end of the tube was a sort of durable, thick balloon. A pump fed the base of the plug through a length of flexible hose. John squeezed the pump a couple of times and watched as the bizarre-looking black balloon inflated. 

“The device is intended to be inserted into his omega hole like a plug,” Dr. Roberts told him. “That rigid tube is long enough to reach all the way through his pelvic bone, so the balloon will only inflate in his abdomen where it's safe and there's plenty of room. When used as prescribed, this device will accustom Dean’s omega hole to safely inflate to larger and larger sizes by training his internal organs to move into safer and more comfortable parts of his body cavity.”

“Wow,” John said, looking between the medical device and his son, who was trembling on the exam table and staring at it with wide eyes.

“Over the first few uses, it will also train Dean’s belly and abdominal muscles to be more elastic. It's very important that they stretch to accommodate his inflated omega hole rather than have the expanded channel fill the internal body cavity, which is something we really don't want to see.”

“Why?” John asked, curious and wanting to be fully informed about the important maintenance of his son’s body. “What do you mean?”

“Well, the way the body adjusts to an inflated omega hole is an important factor in the health risk posed to the omega,” Dr. Roberts explained. As she continued, she illustrated what she meant on Dean’s body, using her hands to gesture over his naked torso. “What we want to see is the inflated channel stretching out the belly.” She mimed an inflating balloon staying localized at the boy's lower abdomen, like his tummy was a blow-up beach ball. “Without proper training, however, the inflated channel sometimes expands sideways and upwards into the body cavity.” Here, she mimed the inflating balloon filling Dean out laterally and up into his rib cage. “When that happens, like I already mentioned, it can put excessive pressure on other internal organs that can’t move out of the way. But it also poses significant additional health risks; namely organ prolapse and hernia, but also pelvic, rib and spinal fracture.”

Dean shuddered, and John felt sick to his stomach imagining his son suffering any of those injuries.

“I had no idea,” he confessed, feeling a little light-headed.

“Of course you didn’t," Dr. Roberts said sympathetically. “It's quite unusual for an omega of Dean’s age to be able to take that kind of use, so you wouldn't have been educated on the matter. But please don't worry; Dean has a very capable omega hole. He clearly hasn't suffered anything more than discomfort thus far, and prescription use of the inflation device will drastically reduce the likelihood of him suffering any potential injuries in the future. It will also increase his comfort during that kind of use, allowing him to enjoy it to his fullest.”

John sighed and shifted forward until he could reach out and put his palm across his son’s forehead. “That's a relief. His hole is so slutty, and it has such high needs… I feel like I’ve let him down by not considering the risks involved in the ways different alphas might seek pleasure from it. I just want Dean to be safe and happy.”

Dr. Roberts' eyes softened as she watched Dean tilt his head up to try to nose into his father’s hand.

“I'm glad to hear it. That doesn't seem like a lot to ask from an Alpha, but you'd be surprised at how many fail even meeting that threshold.”

“I want to do better than the bare minimum, though,” John said resolutely, looking away from his son and down at the black inflation device in his hand. “I want to give Dean the best life I can. Can you show me how to use this thing?”

“Of course.” Dr. Roberts held out her hand for the tool. “Allow me to demonstrate.”

John handed the device over to the doctor, who took it from him and then returned to her chair between Dean’s spread legs. She gave the nervous omega a comforting smile.

“Now, you'll want to make sure that Dean is quite empty before using this device – at least until he's much more experienced – or he might soil himself. Dean, when's the last time you went to the bathroom? Number one and number two.”

“I went right before we came,” Dean answered, a little embarrassed and with a nervous tremor in his voice.

“That's great. And the last time you ate?”

“Um. Lunchtime.”

“Perfect. If you use this device as prescribed, eventually your body will be experienced enough that you can be inflated at almost any time without risking involuntary voiding. For now, though, make sure you go to the bathroom right before, and it should be at least three hours since you last ate.”

Dean nodded, and John did as well, filing the information away for later.

“Now, even though the deflated balloon is quite slim, you should make sure that Dean is well-lubricated prior to inserting the device,” Dr. Roberts cautioned as she set the device down on the metal tray next to the speculums and pulled on a new pair of gloves. “He’ll likely get slick for it once the balloon inflates, but it makes everything easier if he's pre-slick. I recommend stimulating him with penetration; you can use your fingers or your penis, or a toy if you prefer.”

Dr. Roberts inserted her long, slender fingers carefully into the nervous boy’s clenching hole. Dean bit his lip, and his eyelashes fluttered as she began to twist and then pump her fingers in and out of his little pink cunt. The doctor was able to skillfully draw a reaction within moments, and he began to let out little moans.

“Unh, unh!” Dean whimpered, his little cock beginning to fill. He squirmed on the exam table, knees ineffectively turning inward and arms tugging at his wrist restraints. Slick oozed out of his hole around the doctor’s fingers with each thrust while his father petted his soft blond hair.

“Once he’s suitably slick, insert the balloon end into his omega hole until the rim swallows the plug and settles around the base, like so.” She slid the device in smoothly with barely a responding whimper from Dean. “Now, do you see this dial?” She held up the hand pump to show John the pressure indicator. “That little needle will move along the dial a little bit with each pump.” 

She squeezed the pump bulb three times in quick succession to demonstrate, and John watched the needle lurch along the dial. Dean let out a noise of surprise as the balloon inflated inside his body.

“As you can see, there's ten markings on this dial indicating the pressure as it increases in the balloon.” Dr. Roberts continued to squeeze the pump until the needle was pointing at the first mark and a bump the size of a grapefruit was visible under Dean’s tummy. Dean looked down at it with wide eyes.

“How much am I supposed to fill it?” John asked.

“I'm going to recommend that you start by maxing him out at the fifth setting,” the doctor informed him. “Here, I’ll show you what that looks like…”

With each squeeze of the pump, the bulge in Dean’s belly grew. With the hose disappearing into his plugged hole, it almost looked like the pump wasn't feeding a medical device but Dean’s omega hole itself; like his hole was blowing up inside him, filling his belly like a balloon. John watched in awe as Dean shifted, tugging a little against his restraints as the mound of his stomach grew and grew until it had reached the size of a watermelon.

“That's incredible,” John breathed, reaching out to rub his palm over the inflated dome of his son’s belly. “Dean, baby, is this how big you were filled before?”

With his eyes glazed over again, Dean stared down at his hugely swollen belly. His lower lip wobbled and he nodded.

“Yes, Daddy,” he whispered.

“That’s why I chose this setting to start with,” Dr. Roberts nodded. “You typically don’t want to start much bigger than what the omega’s already experienced. Of course, that means that most of my patients start off maxed on the second setting, but we both know that Dean’s very special.” The kind doctor watched John stroke the taut skin of his son’s overinflated belly for a few moments, a warm smile softening the corners of her eyes. “How are you feeling, Dean?”

Dean’s head had fallen back onto the padded exam table and he was staring straight up at the ceiling with dazed, unseeing eyes. John applied a little pressure to his round, inflated stomach to help ground him.

“I feel. Full.”

Dr. Roberts chuckled. “I imagine so. Is there any discomfort?”

Dean struggled to think through the molasses of his sweet, addled omega brain. He licked his lips and let out a cute noise, something between a moan and a hum. “I’m... really full, Daddy.” 

John ghosted his fingers across the creamy skin of Dean's soft belly, drawing swirls around his belly button. The stretched skin shivered at his touch, and Dean’s little cock – which had grown fully hard and curved upwards against the underside of his swollen stomach – twitched as slick seeped out around the plug inside him. John moved his hand down and ran his fingertips around his son’s slippery rim, coating them in Dean’s slick, before returning to Dean’s stomach and continuing to draw swirls along it. This time, his fingers left glistening trails in their wake.

“He likes it,” John observed affectionately, answering for his son. “I think I like it, too.”

There was something strangely mesmerizing about laying his palm over his son’s enormously blown-up belly and knowing that there was nothing underneath that stretched skin but air. Dean’s little body, stretched so very big, was hollow inside. Like blow-up doll. Like an empty container. It was different from seeing him filled up to the brim with toys; John couldn't explain why or how, it just was.

“That’s a relief,” Dr. Roberts laughed. “But I don't want you to inflate him this full right away when you're doing this at home, okay, Mr. Winchester?” John nodded, and Dr. Roberts continued, “Do you work out?”

Surprised by the question, John stared at her blankly for a moment before processing her question and nodding again, bemused.

“When I get the time.”

“So you understand what I mean when I say ‘sets, reps, and rests’?”

“Sure.”

“Perfect, because what I'm going to prescribe initially is five sets of three reps – one set for each pressure setting up to the fifth – with each set ending with a five-minute rest at the inflated setting.”

John turned the words over in his head. “So… Inflate to the first setting, then deflate; inflate, deflate; inflate, let him rest for five minutes, deflate... And then do it again, but to the second setting? And keep counting up?”

“Exactly. The reps will help to train his other organs to move out of the way as needed, and the sets will help him adjust to the stretch at a safe rate. Then once you’ve worked your way up to the fifth setting, you can increase the rest time to a half-hour or so and let him become accustomed to it.”

“Is it dangerous to keep him inflated any longer than that?”

Dr. Roberts shook her head. “Not at all. I'd say a half-hour, minimum, but if you have the time you can keep him inflated for as long as you want. But since he should be doing this on an empty stomach, I recommend you do the exercises right after he comes home from school and deflate him before dinner.”

“Every day?” Dean asked, voice quiet, still staring up at the ceiling.

“No, not daily. Three days a week to start with. Then after a month or so, you can reduce that to just once or twice weekly.”

“What about the settings? You said you usually prescribe your patients start at two... and then presumably work their way up? When should we increase Dean’s maximum?”

Dr. Roberts looked at Dean’s hugely swollen belly thoughtfully. “Truthfully, Mr. Winchester, I've only once had a patient max out higher than five, and they stopped at six. But it is clear from what you've told me that Dean’s omega hole gets heavy use, and given that you're keeping him uncut, it would be prudent to assume that what alphas want to fill him with will only get more extreme.”

At the reminder, Dean’s cunt managed to spasm and blurt out a little slick around the plug. John gently squeezed the full balloon of Dean's belly in reassurance and shushed him tenderly when a keening noise began to rise up in his chest.

“So what do you prescribe? How big can the balloon get? I want to make sure his body’s prepared for whatever alphas are able to fill him with. I don't want him to get hurt.”

John may have neglected to properly prepare his son's body in the past, but now that he knew better, John would do everything in his power to ensure that Dean’s incredibly slutty, hungry hole wasn't constrained by the physical limits of his small body. All that John ever wanted to do was to be a good Alpha; a good father.

“After a month, you can start increasing his max by half a setting every other week,” Dr. Roberts finally decided. “But be incredibly cautious. Dean is still very young, and though he may be very special, even his body has its limits. I'd stop at the seventh setting initially; that’ll be about the size of a third trimester pregnancy. But if you end up feeling that it's not enough given how his body is being used, feel free to schedule an extra appointment with me and I'll give him a check-up to see if it's safe for him to take more. Actually, we should go ahead and schedule a few follow-ups anyway; I want to make sure that his body is properly adjusting to the training.”

“Daddy,” Dean murmured in a faraway voice. He didn't seem to be all there mentally, still addled by slick; his slutty hole oozing a puddle onto the paper cover of the exam table and his cute little brain not quite registering the conversation that the two adults were having over his restrained and inflated body. “I’m really… really full, Daddy. Feel like. I'm gonna burst.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” John leaned down to press kisses all over his son’s reddened cheeks, tasting salt on the boy's freckles and tear-clumped eyelashes. “Don’t worry, Dean,” John comforted him. “That's why we’re filling you up like this, baby. We’re going to keep blowing you up bigger and bigger, and we’re not going to stop until you're so stretched out that you'll never feel like you're gonna burst ever again.”

Chapter 18: Benny's Party (Part 1): The Invitation

Richard Roman, Benny’s track teammate, had been coming to visit Dean during his third period free use every Thursday since Benny had taken Dean out for ice cream. Roman was a very friendly and charismatic boy, and the middle school alphas all loved him. They loved to gather around and watch with starry eyes while he demonstrated how to properly punch-fuck and spank Dean’s omega hole. He could do it much better than they could since his hands were much bigger.

On one such Thursday, after the end-of-period bell rang, the middle school boys had all left for their next period, but Roman had tied with Dean that day and was waiting for his knot to deflate. Coach Brady was playing games on his phone at the monitor’s desk while he waited.

“Sorry, Coach, I’m almost done, I swear,” Roman apologized lightly.

“I hope so,” Coach Brady responded, not glancing up from his phone. “I’ve gotta leave in six minutes, so if you're not done by then, the poor fucktoy’s gonna have to wait for the next period’s monitor to come let it out.”

Dean whined a little and felt the big knot pull on his rim as Roman shifted his hips back.

“Shouldn't be an issue, it’s already going down.” The older boy stroked his hands along Dean’s naked sides, fingers digging into the valleys of his ribs and the soft globes of his ass. He leaned forward and, quite unexpectedly, spoke to Dean directly. “Gives the two of us a couple minutes to chat. I had something I wanted to ask you. Dean, right?”

Surprised, Dean almost tried to turn his head to look back at the high school boy, but the way that his body was strapped down to the bench wouldn't allow that. Instead, his hole simply clenched down on the older boy’s cock, milking his deflating knot.

“Um, yes?” Dean replied uncertainly.

“I’m Richard, but my friends call me Rich. I think we started off on the wrong foot, you know? Can we try again?” At Dean’s confused and nervous silence, Roman continued, “It’s just that when I found out you were spending time with our amazing team captain, I was concerned. You know how you omegas can be, using your slick to entice alphas into ignoring their own needs just so you can get your slutty holes filled. I thought you might be trying to distract him like that; you know, Lafitte had never missed a practice before, not even an optional one.”

“Oh,” Dean said. “I. Um, I didn't know that.”

“Yeah, so I was just worried that him spending time with you might distract him and negatively impact the team. But he's been spending a lot of time with you these past few weeks and if anything, he's gotten better. He seems… happier, now, y’know?”

Dean felt warmth blossom in his gut and his cunt fluttered and sucked around Roman’s slowly shrinking knot. He blushed and hid his face in the padded cushion of the forehead rest. He felt a little slick flood his plugged hole. He’d only seen Benny in person a couple times since he came over for dinner, but they'd been texting every day. Dean never texted first because he didn't want to be a needy slut, but it didn't matter because Benny always texted him anyway.

“Really?” he whispered. Benny had been so kind to him, and being his friend made Dean so happy. To think that Benny felt the same made Dean glow.

“Yeah, really. So anyway, I wanted to apologize. Any omega hole that can squeeze around a knot this good, and take a punch, and help boost my team captain's morale must be alright in my book. No hard feelings?”

He tried to pull away again, making Dean’s rim bulge out as his knot tugged on it. Dean tried to push out to help a little bit, but it wasn't quite small enough yet.

“Okay,” Dean managed to respond after a moment of strain, voice a little shaky but a small, pleased smile gracing his red face. “No – nngh – hard feelings.”

Roman grinned and kneaded at the young boy’s soft rear, nudging at the steel base of the anal plug with his thumbs. “That's great. Because I wanted to ask you a favor. See, we’re throwing this party tomorrow for Lafitte. It's kind of a… surprise party, to thank him for all of his hard work so far this year and over the summer and give him a chance to really unwind. The whole team’s gonna be there – y’know, all of his friends – and I figured he'd wanna have you there, too. You know; his best friend.”

Dean felt himself flush deeply red from his ears down to his chest, and so much slick filled him up inside that it blurted out around Roman’s deflated knot and slicked the way enough for the older boy to slip out with a loud, wet pop. Dean shuddered, feeling the walls of his used channel spasm and clench, forcing the accumulated slick and alpha cum out of his cunt in little waves that splattered down into the plastic tub positioned beneath his hips.

“Benny said… He called me that?” Dean asked, voice trembling with poorly-repressed hope. Coach Brady had said that Benny hadn't used Dean’s omega hole because he thought it was too disgusting, and Dean thought that he was probably right. But maybe it didn't matter; Benny was so kind that he could look past that enough to consider Dean a friend anyway. A best friend. Dean had never thought that he'd ever have one of those; the movies only showed alphas and betas having best friends.

“I mean, he didn't say those words exactly,” Roman answered, grabbing a handful of tissues to wipe the cum and slick from his softening dick. “But he didn't need to say it. It's obvious. So, are you in? It’s gonna be at the arcade downtown. The one near the library. I think it would really please him to have you there.”

“Sure!” Dean said. Maybe the other members of the track team would want to be his friends as well, since he was Benny’s best friend – was he really? It seemed too good to be true – and Roman was being so nice to Dean now, too. “I’ll ask my Alpha to drive me!”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Roman said with a wide grin. “Why don't I pick you up from school tomorrow and drive you myself? Then we’ll have plenty of time to get you all ready for the ‘surprise’.”

He gave the slackened, dripping hole between Dean’s legs a generous, stinging smack to let it know that it'd done a good job before stepping away from the cautiously excited omega and towards the sink to finish cleaning himself.

—

Benny

you sure you dont need a ride today, cher? i can still pick you up. i dont like you riding the bus

Benny didn't have track after school on Fridays, so he’d taken to picking Dean up after school on Fridays to hang out for a while. Dean had already texted Benny that he couldn’t hang out after school that day – blaming made-up plans with his dad and brother – so Benny didn't need to pick him up.

Despite the fact that they couldn’t hang out, Benny had been fairly persistent about driving Dean home anyway, which Dean couldn't help but be a little pleased by. He knew that it was mostly because Benny didn't like the idea of the weird things that the neighbor alpha boys sometimes did to Dean’s hole on the bus on the way to and from school, but Dean thought that maybe it was also because Benny just wanted to spend a little more time with him.

Dean

u r so nice benny but its ok reely i wil b fine actuly my dad is cuming to get me so i wil b fine but i wil c u munday

Benny

alright, if youre sure

maybe we can do something nice this weekend?

we could go for a drive in my truck. i could take you somewhere quiet. away from other alphas

Dean stared at his phone screen and bit his lip. He could feel the shells of his ears getting hot. What did Benny mean by that? Somewhere quiet, away from other alphas? Coach Brady had said that Benny hadn't fucked him yet because his hole was too gross… but maybe if Dean’s hole hadn’t been used yet by another alpha that day, then Benny would be comfortable using it then?

Dean felt something in his tummy sink at the idea, but at the same time he felt happy to think that there might be a way for his slutty body to actually appeal to his friend. And whatever way that the older boy decided to use Dean’s hole, it would be worth it to get to spend some time alone with him. Maybe he would hold Dean in his lap afterwards, and hug him tight the way that he did whenever he took care of Dean after other alphas used him up.

Benny

sorry if that came off weird, cher

i didnt mean to sound like a creep

just meant it would be nice to spend some time alone with you somewhere we could just talk without getting interrupted

Hurriedly, Dean struggled to type his response; he hadn't meant to wait so long that Benny thought that Dean didn't like his idea or something.

Dean

no im sory i didnt think it was wierd i wood reely like that benny that wood make me so happy

Benny

im glad. you being happy is all i want.

♥️

At the sight of the little red heart, Dean’s own heart thudded in his chest and he blushed, and then felt slick gush from his slackened cunt.

He’d cleaned and dried himself off so thoroughly at the end of the long day’s free use because he didn't want to smell like a slut at Benny’s surprise party; he'd even worn a badass Rolling Stones T-shirt with nice omega jeans to school so that he wouldn't look like a little kid when he was there with all of the high schoolers. So the sudden slippery wetness between his legs made him feel ashamed, and he cringed and hoped that it wasn’t visible through his jeans. Sometimes, Dean really hated that he was such a horrible slut.

In his mind, Dean was just like the betas in the movies who had normal bodies and sweet, innocent thoughts about their friends and family. But his omega hole always betrayed the truth: he wasn't a sweet, innocent boy but a nasty, depraved fucktoy. Even when Dean really hadn't thought that he'd been thinking at all about having his slutty cunt filled, his slick showed that he must really have been wanting it deep down.

But despite the self-disgust festering in his belly, Dean steeled himself – today was about Benny, not him – and focused on the little heart that Benny had sent him.

Benny really liked him. Benny thought that Dean was his best friend. Would Benny want a heart back? Or was that not appropriate for an omega like Dean to send? He wasn’t sure if it was like scent marking, where alphas were only supposed to mark omegas and not the other way around. But he didn’t think that Benny would get mad at him; he would just tell Dean if it was wrong so that Dean could correct his mistake and be a good boy. Still, Dean’s thumb trembled over the button for a long moment before he sent it.

Dean

♥️🥰

im reely glad we r frends benny

Benny

me too, cher. 😊

Dean felt so full up with warmth in that moment that he couldn’t help but smile. His eyes squeezed closed and he pressed his phone to his chest. He was glad that his dad had said it was okay for him to go to the surprise party tonight, because he was certain that Benny would be pleased to see him there. Dean wanted to be a good friend and make Benny happy.

—

When Roman came to pick him up, Dean’s eyes just about popped out of his head at the sight of the car he was driving. It was a sleek, black McLaren convertible, the open hatch revealing supple brown leather seats. Dean didn't know enough about luxury cars to tell what model it was, but he knew enough to know that the car was probably more expensive than his family’s house.

“Hey, Dean!” Roman greeted him from the driver’s seat, peering at him from over a pair of reflective sunglasses. Dean gripped the straps of his backpack and stared back with wide eyes.

“Um, hi,” he said. The passenger seats of the car were already full; Dean recognized the two beta boys that Roman had been at the ice cream shop with in the backseat with another beta he didn't know. Another alpha was in the front passenger seat next to Roman.

“Glad you could make it. Why don't you jump in the back?”

“There’s… Um, there’s no room,” Dean whispered, feeling suddenly very shy and immature. The boys in the car were all looking at him with wide grins. He hadn't known that there would be other people in the car when Roman picked him up.

“Sure there is, you can sit in Jordan’s lap. Help the kid in, will you?”

He nudged the boy in the front passenger seat, who hopped out over the top of the door and, before Dean could say anything in response, grabbed the omega under his armpits and lifted him into the air. He was unceremoniously deposited into the backseat, where three sets of arms gladly pulled him inside until he was sitting on the lap of the boy in the middle.

Roman peeled away from the front of the school, and the boys in the backseat pulled Dean’s backpack off of his shoulders. Dean couldn't help but squint his eyes closed against the wind as it gusted and blew specks of dust into his face; all of the high school boys were protected by sunglasses. The wind whipped his hair around and rumpled his T-shirt.

“It’s dangerous for him to ride without a seatbelt,” Roman called from the front. “You boys better hold him tight to make sure he’s safe. His Alpha is trusting us with him tonight.”

“Of course!” the betas replied.

“I’ll hold you to make sure that you can’t fall over,” said Jordan, the beta whose lap he was sitting on. He wrapped his arms tightly around Dean’s middle, his big hands flat against his chest, keeping him firmly bracketed in place.

“We’ll make sure you can’t slide around,” said the two betas on either side of Dean. They put their hands down on his thighs and began to rub up and down the length of them. Their hands edged in towards his sensitive inner thighs and the force of their rubbing began to pressure the younger boy's legs to spread open.

“Be careful back there,” said Roman with a grin as he glanced in the rearview mirror. “The road gets a little bumpy up ahead.”

Held tightly in the hands of the three older beta boys, Dean couldn't even squirm. He tried to act cool and mature and be grateful that they were letting him ride in the expensive car with them; that they were letting him join them on the way to the party. But he couldn’t help but get a nervous stomach ache, and his throat was so tight that he couldn't even talk to say something when the hands on his chest started to pinch and pluck at his nipples from over his shirt, or when the hands on his thighs had crept so high that they were cupping and squeezing his soft penis through his jeans.

Was that okay? Dean wasn't sure if it was against the rules… Without Dad’s permission, they weren’t supposed to touch any of his public parts, but maybe that was only when he was naked? After all, alphas touched his caged cock or the steel plug in his ass all the time during free use period. And this was only over his clothes. They weren't even putting anything in his hole like his beta classmates did sometimes. The teachers never punished them for doing that. And there were no teachers here anyway, just the high schoolers.

And… and besides, the older boys were all laughing and talking about random things amongst each other, not really paying attention to Dean, so it seemed maybe like it was an accident anyway and they didn't realize what they were doing.

Dean tried to relax into the strong grips of the beta boys. They were just trying to keep him safe since he didn't have a seatbelt, that was all. He could feel the hard line of Jordan’s cock underneath him, but that wasn't Jordan’s fault; Dean’s body was very slutty, and his hole was right there. Jordan couldn’t help how Dean’s slutty hole made his cock react.

Every pothole that Roman accidentally ran over made him bounce on the hard cock underneath him, and made the other betas’ hands tighten around his thighs and his groin to ensure that he wouldn't slip or fall over. When the car ran over a speed bump, amidst all of the jostling one of the boy’s fingers somehow made their way through the gap in Dean’s omega jeans and dipped suddenly into his softened cunt, which was still gaping slightly from the full day of free use at school.

“Nngh!” Dean yelped, eyes wide as three fingers slid into him and hooked briefly up into that sweet spot inside before beginning to withdraw.

“Oops,” the beta said lightly as he slowly pulled his fingers out from Dean’s body. “I’m so clumsy, and your hole is so wide open that it's hard to avoid; my hand slipped and it just sort of sucked my fingers in.” He wiped his slick-wet fingers off on Dean’s shirt.

"Sorry," Dean apologized instinctively.

"Hey, no worries," the beta boy said lightly. "You can't help being such a massive slut with such a loose, filthy hole. Instead of apologizing, just thank us for being nice enough to look past it and hang out with you anyway."

Even though his voice sounded nice, there was an edge to his words. Not angry, but something else. Dean noticed that that beta's cock was hard, too.

"Thank you," Dean said. Jordan's thumbs twitched on his chest before rubbing hard over his nipples, chafing them slightly under his shirt, and the hands on his legs squeezed.

"You're welcome," the beta said with a grin.

“Settle down back there,” Roman said. “We’re here.”

From underneath fluttering lashes, Dean dazedly looked out the window at where Roman had parked his McLaren. They were in a quiet suburban neighborhood lined with nice, big houses – about three times bigger than Dean’s own – with large, carefully manicured, empty green lawns. Dean felt his stomach sink.

“I… I thought we were going to the arcade?” he asked, voice high and shaky.

“Oh, did I say that yesterday? Well, plans changed and we thought it would be more fun to host the party at Shaun’s house.” The other alpha, who was climbing out of the front passenger seat, smiled broadly.

“My parents are out of town for the weekend,” he said, “So we can do whatever we want.”

“Oh,” Dean managed in a small little voice. Dad had only agreed to the party because it was going to be at the arcade, in a public place where they didn't serve alcohol or anything, and Dean was supposed to call him to get picked up by eight-thirty. Dean didn't think that his dad would have said yes if he knew it was going to be at another alpha’s house. “I… I need to call my Alpha to ask if it's okay.”

“Relax,” one of the betas said, “Don’t be such a baby. You're in middle school, right? You're old enough to do stuff without checking with your big bad Alpha to make sure it's okay.”

To Dean’s horror, the beta reached into Dean’s jeans pocket and pulled out Dean’s phone, then tossed it into Roman’s waiting hand. Quite suddenly, Dean felt very vulnerable, surrounded by older boys in a strange neighborhood and without his phone to call his dad if he wanted to go home.

“Hey, relax,” Roman said after seeing the fear on the younger boy’s face. “We’re just doing you a favor. You gotta grow up sometime, right? You wanna act like a regular boy who goes to parties and has friends and stuff? Or are you really just a cocksleeve like everyone says?”

The beta boys in the backseat were all looking at him, their hands greedily rubbing and squeezing over his smaller body. Overwhelmed and confused and frightened, Dean could barely think. Roman braced his elbow on the back passenger door and pulled his sunglasses up to perch on top of his coiffed hair, meeting Dean’s flustered gaze with piercing brown eyes.

“Lafitte seems to think you're a really good friend, but with the way you're acting, I'm not so sure.” He leaned forward and held Dean’s phone back out to him, teasingly dangling it a foot in front of his restrained arms in a taunting offering. “If you really want to beg your Alpha's permission just to go to your friend’s party like some sort of whiny little fleshlight, here. Go ahead and take it. It’s just that… Well, I just think that Lafitte would be very disappointed not to have you here. And I thought you really wanted to be a good friend.”

Dean struggled to swallow, his mouth dry. There were so many hands on his body and so many eyes on his face, he didn't know where to look. He stared at his phone for a while where it was held lightly in Roman’s grasp. He thought of Benny, who had wanted to see him so badly that he was willing to drive Dean home even if they couldn't hang out. Benny would be so pleased for Dean to be here at the party when he arrived.

Plus… Dean really wanted to be a normal boy. The normal boys and girls on TV went to school parties at their classmates’ houses when their parents weren’t home. Dean, he had kinda always fantasized about doing something like that, but he'd never had friends to invite him to parties before. Maybe this was his chance to do stuff like that. Maybe if he refused, then he'd never get a chance like this again.

“Okay,” Dean agreed quietly, and Roman smiled and tucked Dean's phone into his own pocket.

“Fantastic. Now, let's go inside and start getting ready.”

—

After entering the large house and kicking off his shoes, the other boys immediately started pulling off Dean’s clothes.

“Omegas don’t like to wear clothes at home, right?” Shaun asked. “Well, I want you to feel at home here.”

Dean’s carefully selected outfit was torn from his body and taken away somewhere that he didn't see. He was left standing naked and shivering in the entryway, hands cupped over his penis.

“What are you covering yourself for?” Jordan asked. He reached out and grabbed Dean’s arms to pull his hands away from his groin. “They’re called your ‘public parts’ for a reason, right?”

“Yeah, you don’t gotta be embarrassed about showing them off. They're not even yours, after all. Maybe only your Alpha gets to touch them, but we all get to see them if we want to.”

“Oh, um, sorry,” Dean said quietly. Dad would want him to be mature and not be a baby about letting everyone see his public parts, too. Dean’s hands twitched as if to go back down to cover himself, so he raised them up to curl at his chest instead. “Um. Thank you.”

“Good, you look right at home,” Shaun said with a grin. He was staring openly at Dean's slender frame with an intense expression, eyes tracing over the curves and angles of Dean's bare limbs. "Come on, follow me into the living room. Did Rich tell you about the surprise?”

“No, I thought it'd be a nice surprise for him, too,” Roman answered for Dean.

“The surprise for Benny?” Dean asked. “I thought… I thought the party was the surprise?”

“The party’s just half the surprise,” Roman said as he ushered Dean deeper into the house with a hand on his shoulder. “The other half is you.”

The living room was big. Probably as big as the entire living room, kitchen, and dining room of Dean’s house combined. The ceiling was so high, like the height of two floors, and the floor was thickly carpeted… not like at Dean’s house where everything was hardwood and linolium (which was easier to clean when Dean dripped slick all over it). However, a clear tarp was laid out in the middle of the floor where all of the furniture had been cleared away, and lying on top of the plastic sheet was an assortment of toys and bondage gear.

“You see, Lafitte’s been talking about you,” Roman said. “Tells us all about how sweet you are, how good you smell, and how much he wants to ram his hard cock right up there into that slutty omega hole of yours.” The older boy reached to trail a finger down the cleft of Dean’s ass, passing over his asshole and dipping into his slick cunt.

“Benny… what?” Dean asked. He knew that Benny’s cock got hard around him, but Dean’s hole was Benny’s to use as he pleased and he hadn’t used it yet.

“Yeah, he dreams about it, just getting to beat up that slutty cunt of yours with his alpha cock. You seen that monster Lafitte’s packing? And he likes it rough, likes to really mess up the omega holes he uses. We found out that's why he doesn't use the omegas at school during free period; even the high school ones are too small, he has to find the old, really ruined ones just so he can fuck them hard enough to get off without hurting them. He can't help it, that's just how he's built.”

“Oh,” Dean whispered. He tried to picture Benny like that, being a rough alpha who fucked omega holes so hard that he left them wrecked. Benny was so kind that it was hard for Dean to imagine. But… but Benny couldn't help what his body needed to be pleasured. Having a big cock and needing to fuck all rough like that didn't make him a bad person. And… and actually, the fact that Benny refused to fuck the omegas at school and only fucked the ones that were already ruined only proved that Benny was kind and thoughtful.

“Yeah, so even though he wants to fuck that slutty hole of yours more than anything, Lafitte refuses to do it because he's worried about hurting his ‘best friend’. But a lot of us have been using that hole of yours on lunch break, and we think you could take him. Right? Your hole is probably slutty enough.”

Dean had blushed and slicked up a little at the reminder that Benny thought that Dean was his best friend, but he could feel his heart speed up and his skin begin to prickle at the thought of Benny using him all rough like how Roman was saying.

“Um, I guess so…”

“Yeah, so we all thought we’d be really good friends if we worked with you to get that cunt of yours prepped, you know, to prove to Benny that it can take whatever he needs to do to it. And then he can finally fuck it tonight, just like he really wants to. Whatdya think?” Roman had three fingers in Dean’s hole now, twisting and pumping inside him and making his legs tremble. “You wanna be a good friend, don't you?”

Dean did want to be a good friend. He hadn't realized that Benny had been struggling so much to hold himself back all for Dean’s benefit. He didn’t think that Dean’s hole was disgusting – and that realization made Dean happier than he could even explain – it was just that, just like Dad and Sammy, Benny didn't want to hurt him.

Benny had done so much for Dean; Dean would do anything in return. The older boy was so kind that Dean had imagined that when he finally used Dean’s hole in that way, he'd be gentle. That he'd be sweet and tender maybe, like… like maybe even treat Dean like his sweetheart. Like a good boy, the way that Benny said Dean deserved to be treated. But according to Roman, the way that Benny wanted to use him wasn't how he thought Dean deserved to be treated; it wasn't how you treat a good boy.

Benny was wrong about him, though. Dean tried to be a good boy, he really did, but really he was just a slutty fucktoy and his body was made for pleasuring alphas in whatever way they wanted. However alphas wanted to use him was exactly how he deserved to be used.

It was Benny who was good, and kind, and so deserving of pleasure; Dean wanted him to be happy. Even if Benny wanted to fuck his hole with his big cock and two fists, Dean would act like a good boy and make sure not to cry since that would make Benny upset. Dean just wanted to please his friend.

“Okay,” Dean finally agreed, resolve steeled. “I’ll help with the surprise.”

Roman smiled and twisted the fingers that he had in Dean’s cunt, then pulled them out and gave Dean’s bare butt a smack. It sent him stumbling forward a step, but the young omega was quickly grabbed by Shaun and Jordan, who pulled him over to the tarp and the gear.

“Fantastic,” Roman said, a wide grinning splitting his face. “Let’s get this party started.”

—

Shaun was very good at rope. Dad preferred leather and latex, so Dean very rarely got tied up at home, but Shaun seemed to really love it. He ran his fingers over the twisted hemp strands and whispered soothingly to the fibers as he tied them in intricate double and single column patterns until Dean’s body was bent into shape, soft flesh dimpled by the rope digging into his slender frame.

An inverted star-patterned chest harness decorated his torso, the firm pressure around his ribs feeling so comforting that Dean was glad for it. His rosy nipples pebbled in the air-conditioned coolness of the large house. A hip harness dug into his lower abdomen and upper thighs but left his public parts untouched. Dean’s omega hole was easily accessible; it fluttered wetly between his widely spread legs, which were frog-tied and fixed to the sides of his chest harness, keeping him bent in half. His wrists were bound to his upper thighs with intricate double-column ties, leaving him with limited mobility; practically the only thing his hands could do was grip the tender flesh between his legs to spread open his slick, pink hole.

“Fuck,” Shaun hissed, eyes raking over the ropes twisted around Dean’s immobilized frame. “You’re so… Fuck, you're so fucking perfect. Look at that sloppy hole... Spread it wide for me.”

Obediently, Dean dug his fingertips into his skin and pried open his little cunt. The silky pink insides glistened and twitched under the older boy’s observation.

“Can’t fucking believe this is the cunt that got so beaten up at the meet,” Shaun said. “Look at you. You really fit all of that into your cute little body?”

Dean didn't really know what to say. If that was a real question. “Um, I guess,” he replied hesitantly.

“Your body is so… I’ve got no idea how Lafitte's kept himself from pounding you into the dirt yet. I look at you, and I just wanna touch you all over. Wanna make you moan…” Shaun fingered Dean’s open entrance, testing the supple rim and flexing walls. Dean wiggled and mewled, and Shaun let out a groan. "You're just a little boy, aren't you?" He whispered. "They all treat you like... But you're just a little boy. And I've got you tied up into a ball on my floor with your hole spread wide like a slut. Goddamn.”

Dean didn't know what he was supposed to say to that; what Shaun even meant.

“You done, Shaun?” Roman asked, excusing Dean from coming up with some sort of reply. Roman sauntered over to them and then knelt down and trailed his fingers along the knots and twists of the chest harness, tweaking Dean’s nipples along the way, before joining Shaun in fingering Dean’s spread-open hole. “You really are good with rope. I never had the patience to learn.”

“It’s an art,” Shaun said. “It’s just not everyone's medium.”

“I’ll take your word for it. Here, let's get the little cocksleeve set up proper.”

The two alphas each hooked their fingers around the rope on either side of the younger boy’s body and easily lifted the sweet little package into the air. Dean felt a little dizzy as he was carried and then deposited onto an armchair that had been covered in plastic. It crinkled under his skin, but the cushion beneath him was softer and kinder on his bowed back than the hard floor had been.

“Mind if I get first crack at that hole?” Shaun asked, eyes fixed on where Dean was still keeping his tiny pink cunt spread widely since no one had told him to stop. “I didn't get to the glory booth until after they'd already started punch-fucking it at the meet, and I haven't visited during his normal free use period, so I haven't gotten to try it like this yet. You know, when it's all fresh and tight like this, before it gets wrecked.”

“It’s your house,” Roman replied. “Host rules. If you want first fuck, it’s yours. But here, if you want it tight...”

Roman laid a few loud, flat-handed smacks onto Dean's vulnerable hole. The spanks stung and made Dean flinch, the tender skin between his legs glowing red from the impact. When he was done, Roman wiped his palm, which was wet from Dean's slick, off onto the young boy's belly. Shaun stared at the pain-tightened hole with wide eyes; Dean's tiny pink cunt was now firmly clenched, shrinking away defensively like a skittish animal, but it was dripping in preparation for the cock that it was about to be fed.

"Fuck yeah," Shaun breathed. "Look at that little thing. Slutty boy, aren't you, all slick and tight and ready for me. You want it bad, don't you? You want my cock?"

Shaun had already opened his pants partway through tying Dean up to alleviate the painful pressure on his erection, so his navy blue chinos were unzipped. His cock was still clothed, covered by his white Calvin Klein briefs except for the head which was poking out from the branded waistband and leaking a little against his abdomen. Shaun grabbed the hard length and pulled himself through the fly of his underwear, stroking it a couple of times and thumbing at his slit, before rubbing the head of it against the tightened rim of Dean’s waiting omega hole.

The entrance of his slick pink hole fluttered against the cockhead, craving the hard heat of it as Shaun rubbed himself against Dean's sensitive flesh. Each nudge pushed him further into that sucking embrace, but then Shaun would draw back before breaching. Dean could smell the alpha's pre-cum on the air, could almost feel it mixing with his drooling slick, making his skin tingle and throb. Dean bit his lip and felt the soft rope biting into his ribs when he inhaled deeply, tried to pretend that it was Benny's strong hands around his ribs instead. Why wasn't... Why wasn't Shaun fucking him?

"Yeah?" he heard Shaun say, and blinked his eyes open to see the older boy staring straight at his flushed face. "You like this, huh? You want me inside?"

Dean shuddered. He didn't know. Dean wasn't supposed to want anything, he was just supposed to please. But he knew what that feeling in his core meant. His dad had taught him that when he was little.

"My hole is hungry for your cock," he whispered, and with that, Shaun smiled and then shoved the full length of his cock into Dean's grateful cunt.

“Mmnh!” Dean grunted, toes curling.

“Ohhh fuck,” Shaun moaned, eyes fluttering closed as his hips pressed flush against the younger boy’s plump ass. He drew back and pumped forward again, balls slapping against Dean’s tender flesh. “It’s so fucking slick, what the fuck. Your hole really is something special, isn't it?”

“Yeah,” Dean said quietly. Everyone said so.

Shaun began to thrust with a rhythm, hammering into the young omega’s body, his long cock not even hitting the end of Dean’s hole thanks to his father's diligent depth training. The little cunt squelched around the alpha’s hot length with each pump of Shaun’s hips, and slowly, Dean’s own little cock began to fill.

Shaun laughed when he saw it. “What a fucking slut. This little boycunt is really drooling for it, isn't it?” The older boy’s body was hunched over him, his salmon-colored polo shirt rubbing against Dean’s erection where it was trapped between them. He straightened and looked down at Dean’s flushed, hard length and then flicked the blush-red tip of it with his finger.

“Ow!” Dean yelped. “Y-you…! You’re n-not suppo-osed to…” His voice was juddering as Shaun continued to thrust into him, making his body shake and driving him into the back of the chair. His fingernails were digging into the skin between his legs, still holding his cunt open for the older boy to plunder.

“I couldn't help it,” Shaun said breathlessly. “Your cute little body’s so goddamn slutty, it’s driving me fucking crazy. The way you look all tied up right now… Pretty little boy like you, you gotta know what you do to people. And look at how hard that slutty little prick is; it's begging me to touch it. You should be grateful I've got enough self-control not to wrap my hand around it. God, that cute, hot little cock... What would your Alpha think if he knew you were being such a little tease? Trying to seduce me into touching what's his?”

Dean felt shame fill up his bound little body, making his eyes scrunch closed and his chest blush pink underneath the star-crossed rope. It was just like at school, how his body was so slutty that it made his beta classmates want to stick things in his hole. Dean didn't tell his dad about it because he didn't want Dad to know what a needy slut he was and how often he betrayed his Alpha by making people want to touch him.

Compared to that, this wasn't even that bad, was it? Shaun's fingernail had barely connected with Dean’s cock for a fraction of a second; was that really any worse than when it got rubbed between his stomach and the body of whatever alpha was fucking him, or when an alpha’s balls slapped against his own? That wasn't betraying his dad, right?

Sometimes Dean really didn't understand the rules. What made one thing worse than the other? Surely if an alpha shouldn't get in trouble for rubbing up against Dean’s cock during routine use, then he also shouldn’t get in trouble for touching Dean’s cock when Dean’s slutty body drove him crazy and made him lose control.

“I’m s-s-sorry,” Dean whimpered as the alpha’s hips hammered into him. “I d-didn't me-ean to…”

“God, you really are, you're driving me crazy. Look at those lips; you've got some cocksucking lips. Your Alpha fuck your mouth yet?”

“H-he’s training my face-hole,” Dean admitted. “But i-it’s not re-eady yet.”

Shaun hissed and bucked his hips. “Oh fuck. Your 'face-hole', huh? Daddy's training his little boy's face-hole? What else is he training?”

Dean sniffled, eyelashes fluttering as his slutty body made Shaun flick his cockhead again. His balls flinched up tighter against his body and a shock of pleasure-pain went straight to his core. He clenched around the older boy’s pumping cock, and when Shaun let out a low groan of appreciation, Dean clenched down again to please him.

“My omega h-hole,” he managed to squeak. “And m-my tummy. Since I’m such a slut, I need… it n-needs to know how to stretch.”

Shaun bit his lower lip and reached out to put his hand on Dean’s exposed stomach. He pushed down with the heel of his palm, just below Dean’s belly button, and Dean could feel the alpha’s cock pushing up into his hand through that thin layer of muscle and fat.

“Fuck yeah it does,” Shaun hissed. “Fuck yeah it needs to know how to stretch. ‘Cause you’re a slut. A slutty little boy with a dirty little hole, and you want cock so bad you gotta learn how take as much of it as you can, right?"

Dean swallowed and nodded and a low whine began to work its way up from deep in his chest. Shaun moved his hand up away from Dean’s stomach and trailed his fingers across Dean’s skin along the path of the ropes that he’d tied.

“You’re our cumdump tonight, you know that?" he whispered. "I know those middle school alphas can’t give you much, but they're not real alphas yet, they're just little boys like you. We’re older than they are. We're real fucking alphas with real alpha cum, and we’re gonna empty it all into you and drive your pal Benny fucking crazy, just like you’re driving me.”

Dean made a little noise at the thought of Benny going crazy with want for Dean, and his mind flashed back to that moment at the ice cream shop when Benny had devoured his hole and then looked down at him with dark dark eyes, and then Shaun’s fingers closed around his nipple and twisted, drawing his mind back to the present and making him yelp.

“Tell me what you’re gonna be tonight,” Shaun said, sounding a little strangled. Dean could feel the alpha’s knot tugging on his slick rim, and squeezed hard around it, making the older boy moan. Shaun wasn't pumping into him anymore, just rutting against his hips, his knot big enough to have tied him.

“I’m gonna be your slutty little cumdump,” Dean mewled, and Shaun leaned down, forehead falling against the back of the leather chair over Dean’s head, and let out a shout as he came. Dean could feel the alpha’s spend pumping into his body, could feel the hungry cunt between his legs happily milking the fat knot wedged inside it and sucking all of the hot cum up deep inside.

Dean’s own cock was still hard and aching, trapped between his stomach and the older boy’s abdomen. Dean whimpered and tried to squirm, the sensation overwhelming but not… Not enough? Too much? He didn't know. His slutty cock ached to be touched, but he didn't want Shaun to touch him there, because that part of him was his dad’s. That... that was why he didn't want it, right?

Dean didn't always understand what he was supposed to think. It was the slick, it addled his brain and… Sometimes things just didn't make sense, because he didn't understand how he was supposed to want alphas to use him but also he wasn’t supposed to want anything, because he was just made for it. He was supposed to like it – he did like it, he did – but he was also only supposed to please alphas, not get pleased. For some reason, no matter how much Dean thought about it, it never quite made sense to his addled omega brain. It made him feel so stupid sometimes, he really was just a dumb slut. If he wasn't such a dumb slut, then he was sure that it would all make sense; none of the normal alphas or betas with regular smart brains got confused. Dean was the stupid, slickbrained fucktoy who didn't understand the rules and got all confused about how he felt about it.

“Fuck, you feel fucking amazing,” Shaun sighed, breath warming the top of Dean’s head. He put his arms underneath Dean’s immobilized body and lifted the young boy up, turning his own body around so that he could sink down into the cozy armchair with Dean still tied to him, folded in half and perched on his lap. Shaun stared at Dean’s belly; from that position, the impression of the alpha’s cock could easily be seen beneath the omega’s belly button. Dean could almost imagine being able to see his tummy starting to bloat as the older boy’s cum was pumped inside him.

“How's it going over here?” Roman had stepped away from where he’d been playing video games with the three beta boys on Shaun’s big TV. “Is the cocksleeve everything you'd hoped and dreamed?”

“He really is something special,” Shaun said, eyes now fixed on Dean’s still-aching cock and his tight little balls drawn up underneath it.

“Um, when is Benny getting here?” Dean voiced shyly, barely more than a whisper. He squeezed again around Shaun’s cock to make up for any displeasure he'd caused by asking a question while in the middle of being used.

Roman checked his watch. Dean knew nothing about watches, but if Roman’s McLaren was anything to go by, Dean thought that the watch must be worth thousands and thousands of dollars.

“He's been told to arrive at eight, so we’ve got over two hours to finish getting you ready. I’m gonna fuck that hole of yours next.”

Dean looked between Shaun and Roman with wide eyes. “Oh,” he said, and bit his lip to keep it from trembling. For some reason he felt compelled to add, “My Alpha didn't give any betas permission to use my hole.” His eyes darted over to the three beta boys, recalling the feeling of their hands all over him in the McLaren.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Roman reassured him with a broad smile. “The rest of the team will be here soon, and some other guys from school. I knew your hole was pretty hungry and just me and Shaun wouldn't be enough for it, so we made sure to invite as many alphas as we could.”

Chapter 19: Benny's Party (Part 2): The Surprise

After Shaun’s knot went down, the alpha tipped Dean forward before pulling out his softening cock to ensure that none of his cum escaped Dean’s slick hole. The nearly upside-down position reminded Dean of his depth training as he felt his blood beginning to rush to his head, and his body tensed in muscle memory, expecting to feel a heavy steel ball drop into his quivering cunt. But the older boy just stared down at his tiny pink gape with dark eyes and flushed cheeks.

“Slutty little cumdump,” he whispered, and Dean nodded and whimpered when Roman reached out and twirled a finger inside the slick, upturned opening.

“That's for sure. Here, let's get that corked up so it can’t squirt out what you filled it with…”

Roman lifted a knotted silicone dildo in one hand and aligned the tip with Dean’s entrance; the younger boy felt his rim eagerly mouth at the toy, but it didn't have to wait long before the alpha slid the dildo home. He smoothly sheathed it all the way to the knot and then gave the wide base a hearty thwack with the side of his closed fist to get it to pop fully inside.

“Hngh!” Dean grunted as the knot was forced into him. It wasn't as big as Shaun’s had been, but it was big enough to provide an adequate seal to keep all of the cum inside.

“Great. Here, give me a hand, Jordan and Doug got the carrier set up…”

Roman let Shaun tuck his wet cock back into his pants and then both alphas lifted Dean’s bound little body into the air, using the ropes frog-tying his legs as handles like they had before. Dean was carried over to a wheeled, collapsible omega carrier that had been unfolded and assembled in the middle of the living room on top of the tarp. It was one of the kinds that was open-air, like a baby carriage without walls; just some O-rings and straps that could be used to bind the omega in place and a handle to push the carrier around. It was similar – though a little more nice and expensive-looking – to the ones that the school had.

The doorbell rang just as Shaun and Roman had set Dean down onto the lightly-padded carrier bed.

“I’ve got it,” Shaun said, and exited the room to greet the new arrivals. One of the betas – maybe this one was Doug – stepped up to help Roman get Dean strapped into place.

Dean could feel his breath picking up as he was restrained onto the omega carrier. It felt a little bit different, for some reason, than just being tied up on the floor or in the chair. His stuffed hole was now perfectly hip-height, easy for anyone to use it without even needing to bend over, and portable. The carrier was like a dessert cart at a restaurant, but instead of being loaded with delicious-looking cakes and pastries decorated with fruits and frosting, it was carrying a trembling little cumdump tightly bound with rope.

“Right in here,” Dean heard Shaun say as he walked back into the living room with a few more sets of footsteps. “We've got him plugged up because I already came inside him, but his slutty little boycunt is ready for more.”

“Looks awesome,” an unfamiliar voice said.

“Where do I put the snacks?” asked another.

Shaun led a couple boys with arms full of grocery bags and six-packs through the living room into the kitchen while one of the newcomer alphas stepped up to Dean and closed his hand around the base of the dildo.

“Gotta love a party favor,” the older boy said, jiggling the base of the silicone toy and watching the way that the knot made Dean’s entrance bulge; the way that the movement made his ass shake and his little erection bob. He chuckled. “This is better than jello shots.”

“Hey, we’ve also got jello shots,” Roman said with a grin. “Best of both worlds.”

“Fuck yeah, man. Bring ‘em out!” He tugged on the dildo until it popped out of Dean’s clutching hole and quickly plugged the younger boy back up again with his hard, flesh-and-blood cock. The hot hardness slipped straight into Dean’s cunt through the slick and Shaun’s cum without a noise, the pink hole hungrily sucking it down like it was molded to it, but as the alpha rolled his hips and started to thrust in earnest, wet squishing sounds began to fill the room.

“Mmm,” the alpha hummed, tilting his head back and letting his eyes flutter closed as he sank into the slick heat of the captive hole. “Feels like it's fitted perfectly to my dick. Fuck, yeah.”

“Well, it's only been used by middle schoolers and Shaun so far today. We’ll see what a perfect fit it is in an hour or two.”

The alpha’s hands were on the underside of Dean’s bound thighs, rubbing up and down the expanse of creamy skin. A moment later, Dean felt more hands trace the ropes over his chest and then settle on his nipples; the beta boys had come over to partake in the omega's body in the ways that they were allowed to. They plucked and pinched at his rosy nubs, teased them with their fingertips until Dean was squirming and mewling. 

The one called Doug bent down and breathed across Dean’s bitten lips, touched the tip of his nose to Dean’s flushed and freckled cheek, and then nosed around the side of his face until his tongue was tracing the shell of Dean’s ear. Dean unconsciously tried to turn away, but he couldn't move very far; the beta followed and a moment later, his hot tongue was licking everywhere. Across his earlobe and into every dip and curve; into the dark hole there. Dean squeezed his eyes closed and squealed, and his little cock twitched and leaked while his slutty hole clamped down on the hard length inside of it.

“Oh, it liked that,” the alpha chuckled.

“Yeah?” Doug asked, pulling away for a second before leaning back in until his lips were pressed up against Dean’s ear. “You liked that, little fuckhole?” he whispered, voice low and gravelly. The vibrations tickled into Dean’s ear canal and made him shudder, rib cage flexing against the chest harness.

Dean nodded helplessly and felt Jordan’s mouth close around his other earlobe and start to suck on it, hot and wet, while Doug grinned against his cheek and kissed his tragus before plunging his tongue into the hole of Dean’s ear again.

“Jesus, yeah, it really likes that,” the alpha said, running his thumbs around the stretched rim of the omega’s filled hole. “I didn't think it was possible for an omega hole to make this much slick. Its slutty little body must be filled to the brim. Can you taste it coming out of its ears? I bet its dumb little omega brain is just swimming in it.”

Dean keened as Doug and Jordan chuckled right into his ears, loud and tickling, tongues invading the little holes that he hadn't even realized could be used. His restrained body struggled to arch or bow, but was unable to against the bindings that were fixing him to the carrier bed. His stuffed cunt blurted slick out around the alpha cock inside him as it thrust, inner walls flexing and sucking, begging for a knot to plug it up. A moment later, the alpha’s cock obliged, knot beginning to swell and make the pink hole stretch around it as it passed in and out of the slippery, swollen rim until it caught.

“Ahh,” the alpha sighed as his hips were stilled, big knot comfortably locked into the young boy’s immobilized body. He ground his cock into the slutty hole a few times, and Dean submissively squeezed hard around it until the alpha grunted in climax and then milked the older boy’s knot as his hot cum poured into him.

“Jello shots!” came Roman’s voice as he walked back into the living room with a tray of colorful plastic cups. He handed a blue and a green one to the alpha who was currently tied with Dean, and the older boy downed them cheerfully. “Hey, make sure you cork that hole again right away when you're done, we don't want anything to leak out. We're filling it up as a surprise for Lafitte when he arrives.”

“I dunno – ungh – might not be enough room for another cock in here after I'm done if we don't let it drain,” the alpha said jokingly. “My balls were pretty full, haven't jacked it in two days waiting for this.”

“You never know.” That was Shaun, who had returned as well. He was standing next to Jordan beside the carrier, looking down at Dean’s flushed cock with dark eyes. He reached out and set his big hand on Dean’s belly. “He said his daddy’s been training him to stretch.” 

He petted the younger boy’s soft belly, and Dean watched him with wide eyes. His fingernails were clean and neatly trimmed to match his preppy clothes. The older boy’s cock was hard again, and Dean could smell his own drying slick on the erect length. The high school boy had opened his chinos again, his dark-flushed cockhead once more pulled up and poking out over the waistband of his Calvin Klein boxer briefs.

“Nngh!” Dean mewled as the side of the older boy’s hand brushed against his hard cock in its journey over the expanse of Dean’s abdomen, and a little bit of slick omega pre-cum dripped from his slit down into the dip of his navel. 

Shaun moved his gaze to meet Dean’s dazed, shining green eyes. His own eyes were blue, a suiting match to his light, silky blond hair. Dean whimpered as their eyes met, watching Shaun's heated expression flicker, a tiny smirk turning up the corner of his lips as he teasingly raised one finger to ghost the back of his knuckle up and down the length of Dean’s smaller erection. The touch was barely there, but it felt overwhelming on the omega’s neglected cock. Unbearable and shameful, too, because that part of his body belonged to his dad but Dean… Dean couldn't help but want Shaun to wrap his smooth, warm hand around it and stroke it just like Sammy always did.

Dean’s little cock throbbed and leaked some more, and Shaun’s own cock twitched visibly against his muscular abdomen. He slid his finger through the slick that was dripping down onto Dean’s belly and then dipped it into the younger boy’s belly button and swirled it around, making Dean’s soft abs roll and tremble, his hard-on bobbing and dripping.

“Slutty little boy,” Shaun mused, his voice almost sounding fond. “He's special. I have faith in that filthy hole of his.” He lifted his slick-coated fingers to Dean’s face and traced them delicately over Dean’s plush lips before sliding them into the omega's mouth. Dean closed his lips around them and sucked, cheeks hollowing and eyelashes fluttering.

“Mmm,” Dean hummed, thinking of Benny’s vanillacream fingers in his mouth and wondering how pleased Benny would be with him for being such a good boy for all of his teammates. The beta boys had suspended their assault on his ears and were watching Shaun pump his fingers in and out of the younger boy’s mouth, getting Dean’s lips all wet and slick, making them red and swollen, tracing over his freckled cheekbone with his thumb.

“You're our slutty little cumdump tonight, right?” he reiterated, and Dean nodded. “You’re gonna be a good cumdump for us? Is your filthy little boycunt gonna gulp down everything we feed it and not let a drop escape?”

Dean nodded and nodded and hummed around the fingers in his mouth. They'd reached the back of his throat, and if his dad hadn't been so diligent with Dean’s training, he'd be gagging like a bad boy. But Dean wasn't gagging; he was relaxing his throat and sucking and licking and trying not to cough at the saliva collecting in his mouth. And he was remembering to milk the knot that was still emptying into his drooling, cock-hungry hole. Like a good boy.

“That's what I like to see,” Shaun smiled, and slowly withdrew his fingers from between Dean’s spit-slick lips, chuckling as Dean let his jaw gape open and his tongue loll out in case someone else wanted to put their fingers inside. Then, so quickly that Dean couldn't even prepare himself, he harshly flicked the red tip of Dean’s leaking cock.

“Nnnhh!” Dean gasped as his entire body tensed up and cum spurted from his slit up onto his rope-bound chest, a stripe even managing to fall across his chin and his pouting lower lip. His eyes rolled back into his head and his body shook, toes and fingers curling and hole quivering, as slick gushed out from around the deflating knot wedged into his little cunt. There were so many hands on his body – far more than belonged to only four people – tracing over the rope and wiping away his cum, and tongues were back on his ears and licking his eyelids and teeth were clamped around his nipples. He couldn't see anything, just white, overstimulated and overwhelmed with the pleasure lighting up every nerve in his body as the high school boys tried to see how long they could sustain his climax. Tried to see how long they could make him keep coming.

Dean was trapped in a state of mindless pleasure, delirious, unable to understand the words being spoken around him as the older boys cheered him on and directed each other on how and where to touch his body to make him keep squirting. His muscles were flexing and rolling as his cock spurted again, and again, each one smaller and weaker than the last until nothing was coming out, though his body was still clenching and straining against his bindings as his cock tried and tried to shoot more.

Finally, his body gave one more valiant dry-heave, tensing until every muscle was as hard as a rock and his hole was clamped down so hard on the cock inside it that the alpha actually winced and grunted in pain, before he was finally released from the relentless onslaught of pleasure and his muscles relaxed. He melted down onto the carrier bed, feeling like a puddle of goo; feeling like nothing more than a squishy lump for people to use as they pleased. His chest was heaving, body covered in sweat and slick. 

Dean felt something hot streak across his trembling skin. It was gentle, delicate like the wet lick of a small animal's tongue, and felt kind of nice. Dean's eyes fluttered open, bleary and unfocused, to see a circle of beta boys standing around him, stroking their hard lengths and shooting their white cum onto his sweetly bound body. Dean was too exhausted to so much as whine; he could only let out a great sigh and then flinch and turn away slightly when a few ropes of cum striped across his face and got in his eyelashes. 

When the betas were done coating him with their spend, one of his eyes was squeezed shut protectively against the cum dripping over it. He opened his clean eye and blinked it to clear his blurry vision only to see that the alpha who'd been fucking him had switched places during Dean’s prolonged climax without him even noticing. The cock pumping into his slackened cunt now was someone new, and his knot was only just starting to grow.

Dean wondered what time it was, and how much longer it would be before Benny arrived. He felt kind of floaty. And a little scared. He'd never had an orgasm last that long before, and he was worried about getting too much slick in his brain and having ‘abnormal mental pathologies’ like his doctor and his dad had talked about.

No one told Dean what time it was, but it wasn't long before a real high school party was raging around the young omega, just like the ones that Dean had seen in the movies. Just like the ones that he'd fantasized about attending. There were so many betas and alphas all talking and laughing and playing beer pong and video games on the big TV; they smiled and shoved each other around and threw popcorn and pretzels into each other’s mouths, just like regular high school boys.

It was a little different, though, being at a high school party when you were a cumdumpster instead of a boy. Dean didn't get to eat snacks or laugh or make new friends. Instead, he got to shudder and mewl and clench around alpha cocks, and stretch and swell to accommodate for all of the cum that they were pumping into him.

“Damn, how much can that little hole guzzle down?”

Dean grunted as the current knot tugged at his well-used rim, then keened as fingers closed around both of his swollen nipples and pinched them. Alphas and betas alike had been playing with his nipples all evening, so his little buds were sore and reddened. Every brush against them hurt.

“It’s not a hole, it’s a bottomless pit. I've never seen an omega hole that could just gulp down cum like that.”

Hips ground against Dean’s bruised ass. The alpha was almost done pumping his cum into the young omega, and Dean readied himself to have the knot unceremoniously pulled out before it’d fully deflated. They were trying to have Dean fucked by as many alphas as many times as possible, which meant that they couldn’t spend the extra time waiting for their knots to go down. Instead, they were pulling them out right after they were done filling him with their cum, and then spanking his wrecked hole until it tightened back up enough for the next high school boy.

“It's been making a lot of slick, get it something to drink.”

A big hand came behind Dean’s head and tilted it up with surprising gentleness, guiding a straw into the omega’s swollen mouth to let him gratefully gulp down iced water. Dean sucked the cold drink quickly through the straw, feeling as though his belly was tangibly expanding with every gulp.

“Kinda wild that it really is just filling up like that. Usually the cum starts overflowing after a load or two, but this hole is just… stretching out for it.”

Dean could feel how taut his belly was, but he couldn't see how much it had swollen. The eyelashes of both of his eyes were stuck together now, lids glued shut from all of the cum that the beta boys had shot across his face. Everyone at the party was donating as much cum as they could to Benny’s surprise; every few minutes, Dean felt another hot, wet load stripe his skin. He felt very dirty and very ashamed.

The cup of water ran out too quickly, and when Dean was only sucking up air through the straw he made a little upset noise, really feeling like he was about to cry. The sweet water had made him suddenly aware of how very thirsty he was, and his head hurt, and his tummy felt so stretched, and he couldn't see anything, and he smelled like... Like. Like a cumdumpster.

“Shh,” the boy who’d been holding up the cup for him shushed, pulling the straw away only to slide another one between the younger boy’s quivering lips a moment later. Dean took two big gulps before the taste registered in his muddled brain, and then started to cough and retch.

“Yeah, milk that knot,” the alpha using Dean’s hole jeered and slapped the back of Dean's thigh, while the boy helping Dean to drink propped his head up a bit more and patted his chest while the omega finished coughing.

“Calm down,” the boy said. Dean realized that it was Shaun; he recognized the voice. “It’s just a vodka soda. You're still thirsty, right?”

Dean nodded and then shook his head. “Tastes... bad. And. And I’m not s’posedta drink alc'hol.” His voice sounded thick because some of the betas had made him hold his mouth open so they could shoot their cum into his face-hole, and it was tacky in his throat. He was worried that Shaun would mock him for being a baby or try to peer pressure him to drink anyway, like the teenagers did on TV, but instead the older boy just made a sympathetic noise and rubbed his thumb along Dean’s swollen lower lip. 

“Alright, my bad. I'll get you some more water. But here, why don't you have a couple jello shots to get that bad taste out of your mouth…”

Relieved that Shaun wasn't trying to convince him to drink the vodka or some beer or anything, and happy that he was finally being offered one of the fun party snacks, Dean gratefully opened his mouth. He felt the rim of a little plastic cup press against his bottom teeth; a moment later, Shaun was using his fingers to scrape lime-flavored jello onto his waiting tongue.

Dean closed his mouth and chewed a little, feeling the jello break up and dissolve on his tongue before swallowing and blindly offering Shaun a watery smile. The jello tasted a little weird, kind of like the vodka soda drink had tasted, but Dean figured it was just the aftertaste of the alcohol lingering on his taste buds.

“You like it? Want another?” A second little cup was pressed against his lips, this time strawberry, and Dean tried to protest a little bit just because his tummy felt so stuffed, but Shaun only stopped treating him after he'd forced a third cup (lime again) down Dean’s throat.

“Thanks,” Dean murmured, and then sniffled and his breath hitched as, suddenly, a wet paper towel kindly wiped away most of the cum that was coating his closed eyes.

“No problem. You've been a great cumdump, you deserved a treat.” Shaun finished cleaning the cum out of his eyes and Dean was embarrassed to find tears welling up and streaming down his red cheeks as he squinted at Shaun’s blurry figure, and then around the living room. 

The room was very noisy, all of the figures around him colorful and unfamiliar. Dean could hear his slutty, used-up cunt squelching loudly over the noise of the party, but despite his now-open eyes he still couldn't see the cock pistoning into him because the big mound of his cum-inflated belly was blocking his view. Dean’s eyes widened at the sight; it was as big as the fourth setting on his inflation trainer. 

He'd never been able to hold cum in enough to swell up from it before. Perhaps the inflation training combined with the depth training, where he had to hold the balls inside afterwards, was what had made it possible; his tummy was so very stretchy and his entrance could clench so very tight, tight enough to clamp down and keep any of the cum from escaping while he was getting used.

“Jesus christ, just look at this thing.” A sudden hand came out of the crowd and landed with a slap onto Dean’s belly, and the whole swollen mound jiggled like a jello mold, the glut of cum just sloshing around inside him. It was Roman, who had appeared out of the crowd to tease the young omega. “Who needs streamers and party hats? We've got a big cum balloon!”

Dean felt like crying again. For some reason, the thought of being a big cum balloon when Benny arrived was too mortifying to bear.

“Is my hole wrecked enough for Benny’s cock yet?” Dean asked, voice shaky. He hoped that maybe they'd drain him before Benny could see him like this. Even though he'd still be filthy and covered in beta cum, at least then he wouldn't be a blown-up cum balloon.

Roman peered between Dean’s spread legs at where the current alpha was tied with him and grinned.

“I think so. Good thing, too; it's only ten ‘til. Lafitte should be arriving soon, so we've gotta get the surprise set up. C’mon, Anderson, pull out, will you?”

The alpha grumbled but obeyed, tugging his knot out of Dean’s worn-out cunt and spraying the rest of his load across Dean’s hugely swollen tummy while Roman corked the omega hole with a new, much bigger knotted dildo than before. Dean wilted, knowing that it meant that he wouldn't be drained. He just hoped that Benny wouldn’t think he looked weird or laugh at him. He probably wouldn't, Dean reasoned; Benny was so kind and had never laughed at him before.

When Roman and Shaun unstrapped Dean and lifted him from the omega carrier, Dean’s stomach tossed and the whole room spun around him. Quite suddenly, he was feeling dizzy and strange. Like something he’d never felt before. He felt like he was about to fall over, even though he was being held tightly in the alphas' arms. His face felt hot and flushed. What was wrong with him?

They deposited Dean back on top of the plastic-covered armchair that Shaun had fucked him in. Dean sank down into the cushion and felt like he was falling into the earth.

“I feel funny,” Dean said, and Roman poked at his belly to watch it wobble and distort like a water balloon.

“You look funny,” he replied, and Dean wanted to just disappear.

He almost. He almost would rather not be there. The thought of Benny seeing him like this and then fucking his wrecked cunt all rough and mean until it was ruined made him want to cry. He'd told himself that he wasn't going to cry, because this was all for Benny and as long as Benny was pleased then it was worth it, but the truth was that Dean wanted to not be there and he wanted to not be a slutty cumdump and he didn't want Benny to fuck him all rough because he was afraid, he was afraid that his belly was going to burst and he was embarrassed by how slutty and weird his body looked and he just didn't want to do it anymore he wanted to go home and he wanted his daddy he wanted his mommy!

Dean was bad. He was a bad omega and a bad boy and he was just. Bad.

“I wanna go home,” Dean sobbed, and Roman rolled his eyes.

“God, shut him up, will you?” he asked Shaun while he walked away back towards the now-empty omega carrier. “Lafitte’s gonna be here any minute, and if the little cumdump keeps whining like that it'll ruin the surprise.”

Shaun leaned into Dean's sightline with his piercing blue eyes and blond hair swept out from his face. The alpha’s cock was hard again, even though he'd fucked Dean one more time already, and he touched himself while he used his other hand to wipe the tears from Dean’s cum-sticky red cheeks.

“Please,” Dean whimpered. His voice was slurring. “I feel weird. The… the room is spinning. I think something's wrong with me. I wanna call my dad.” He swallowed and then corrected himself. “I wanna call my Alpha.”

Shaun stared at him, stroking his thumb along the arc of Dean’s freckled cheek, the swell of his full pink lips.

“God,” Shaun whispered, almost to himself. “You really are just a little boy.”

And then he gently inserted the smaller dildo from before – still dirty and tasting of Dean's slick and Shaun's cum – into Dean’s mouth until the knot was safely wedged behind his teeth and Dean could do nothing more than breathe through his nose.

“Don't worry,” Shaun reassured him as Dean’s breaths became more rapid, leaving his nose in little puffs. The older boy cleared some beta cum away from Dean’s nostrils for him. “Your friend will be here soon.”

When Roman returned and he and Shaun lifted Dean up again, Dean dizzily saw that they'd put a big, colorfully-wrapped gift box on top of the omega carrier. He realized what it was for only a moment before he was lowered into it and his field of vision was narrowed to the square opening above him.

Roman, Shaun, and a few other faces stared down into the box at the filthy omega, bound up with rope into a cute little ball and stuffed at both ends with knotted dildos, with his belly so bloated with cum that he looked like he’d swallowed a watermelon.

“Think Lafitte will like his surprise?” Shaun asked, eyes fixed on Dean’s tearful green gaze.

“He better,” Roman answered with a grin, and then the lid was placed over the box and Dean was cast into darkness.

Dean hoped that Benny would like his surprise, too.

Chapter 20: Benny's Party (Part 3): Benny to the Rescue

The doorbell rang and the party went silent. Dean heard shuffling around the box, and then felt the omega carrier rolling across the floor, but he was too disoriented to be able to tell where to or in what direction.

A minute later, he could hear the front door open, and the faint familiar rumble of Benny’s voice made his whole body shiver and his cunt suck helplessly on the fat dildo wedged inside it while he swallowed around the one in his mouth.

Footsteps headed towards the living room, and a moment later there was a loud chorus of “Surprise!” from the partygoers. Dean trembled in anticipation.

“What is all this, fellas?” Benny asked, voice sounding a little… resigned. “Ain’t my birthday.”

“Does it have to be your birthday for us to want to throw you a little party?” That was Roman. “We just wanted to show you a little appreciation. Give you something nice. You work so hard, after all; you could use a little stress relief.”

Benny sighed. “Look, Roman, just give it to me straight. Walker told me you had somethin’ planned for me, an’ I don't wanna listen to you stallin’.”

Roman rolled his eyes, and then Dean felt the omega carrier being wheeled across the floor again. “You're so impatient. Fine, if you want your present so bad, here it is.”

Every inch of Dean’s body was trembling as he waited for Benny to open the box. He blinked furiously in the darkness to try to chase away any welling tears, and tried to smile around the knotted dildo gagging his mouth, though it just made his face feel weird and distorted so he gave up quickly. He could smile at Benny after he took the dildo out. If Benny wanted to take it out.

He heard a hand come down on the lid and it began to open, but after only a sliver of light was visible it closed again quickly.

“God, Roman, it stinks. This your idea of a joke? Y’all shootin’ your loads into a box and then giving it to me as some sort of prank?”

He sounded disgusted.

Dean shuddered and made a tiny, dejected whimpering sound, one that was easily muffled by the toy gagging him; but some small note must have been audible because immediately afterwards Benny put his hand back on the lid of the box and tore it open.

Dean flinched and blinked against the sudden light flooding into the box; the overhead chandelier was directly above him, and he couldn't see Benny clearly through the glare, just the shadow of his downturned face as he stared at the contents of his surprise present.

The light was so bright that Dean couldn't keep his eyes open though he struggled to do so, eyelashes fluttering and eyes squinting half-closed. Since he couldn't smile or talk or move much at all, he did the only thing he could to greet his friend; he used his trembling fingers to grab at the blushing skin between his legs and spread his stuffed hole as widely as he could around the toy that was plugging it up.

He listened hopefully, waiting to hear Benny greet him back; for his warm, kind voice to say hello, for him to lift Dean out of the box and express how pleased he was that Dean was being such a good boy.

Instead, a wave of such incredible anger rolled out from the alpha that it made Dean flinch and instinctively bare his neck and flare his hole in submission.

“What is this, Roman?” Benny asked, but Dean couldn't understand the words because his dizzy, addled mind could only focus on the growl in the older boy's chest and the rage that he could feel coming from Benny in waves. 

The room was spinning around Dean and he was so dizzy and the light was so bright and his belly was so hugely swollen and he felt like throwing up and his head hurt and his slutty cunt was still sucking and drooling around the hard thing inside it and the noise all in the room surrounding him was so disorienting and all he could comprehend was that Benny was here he was finally here but he wasn't happy and he wasn't pleased and he wasn't touching Dean or taking him out of the box and he smelled dangerous and he was growling and Dean couldn't move.

“We just thought you'd finally like a taste of the sweet little snack you've been buttering up,” Roman replied. “It's clear you've got some sort of weird thing about using omegas, so we got it all ready for you. It's been used so many times tonight already, what's one more? Plus, it's been waiting for you.”

Roman peered into the open box where Dean was still trembling, overwhelmed and uncomprehending. The older boy chuckled.

“Look at that. It's saying hello to you the way a proper omega should; presenting its nasty little hole.” He started to reach his hand into the box, aiming to trace around the young omega’s taxed rim or perhaps teasingly yank on the knotted dildo, but Benny grabbed his wrist so tightly that Roman winced.

“Ow, Lafitte!” Roman exclaimed, yanking his hand out of the other boy’s iron grip. “C’mon, captain, stop playing the chaste martyr. You need slick as much as the rest of us, you've got to be getting it somewhere and we know you want this hole. We can smell it on you when any of us talk about it.”

“Roman,” Benny growled in warning, but the other boy just continued.

“You should've heard it earlier, Lafitte…” Roman put on a false, high-pitched voice, mimicking Dean’s younger cadence. “‘When’s Benny gonna use me, am I a sloppy enough cumdump for his big mean cock, is he gonna like my hole, where’s Benny, is he gonna think I'm a good friend, wah wah wah’. I'm telling you, man, it wants you bad.” He laughed. “Earlier, we got it to squirt out of its little cock for… I think it was three minutes straight. Never seen anything like it. You can't trust a fucktoy's tears, only its slick; the little slut loved it…”

Benny’s fist collided with Roman’s face so hard that the other alpha was sent stumbling backwards; the only reason he didn't fall to the floor was that a couple of guys were standing behind him and caught him in their arms. 

There was a commotion as the other partygoers shouted, but no one stepped forward to retaliate. With a furious expression, Roman shook off his friends and stood back up. He held up his hand to dab at the blood pouring out of his nose and then pressed his sleeve against the torrent.

“You broke my fucking nose, Lafitte!” he snarled. “Is the non-existent virtue of a fucking cocksleeve really that important to you?”

“You shut your fuckin’ mouth, Roman!” Benny snarled, and Dean didn't really hear the words but he heard the rage and he cowered and tightened his fingers around his hole. “You think I’m fuckin’ stupid? You knew goddamn well what my reaction to all o' this was gonna be! So if you know what's good for you, don't you fuckin’ touch him again and get the fuck outta my way!”

Benny grabbed the handle of the omega carrier and began to push it through the now-silent crowd. Dean hadn't even really registered the movement through his fear and disorientation, but after a minute there was a sudden jolt as the wheels jostled over the threshold of the front door and when Dean opened his squeezed-shut eyes, he saw the dark night sky above him instead of the white ceiling. Everything was spinning and confusing, he didn't feel right. He must be slick-addled. What if it was permanent? He'd been too much of a slut and permanently wrecked his dumb omega brain, and it wasn't even worth it because Benny wasn't even pleased?

He was frightened for a moment because he didn't know what was happening, but when he tilted his head back he could smell Benny, that it was Benny pushing the carrier over to his truck which was parked in front of the big house. When they arrived, Benny opened the door and lifted the entire box containing the young omega and deposited it onto the passenger seat. Then he disappeared, and Dean could hear his heavy, angry footsteps retreating.

“Where’re his things?” he heard the older boy growl distantly, back up at the open front door of the house. Another minute later and Benny was back; Dean could hear the sound of the driver’s side door open and his own backpack get tossed into the passenger footwell, and then Benny was sitting down and turning the keys and firing up the ignition.

The truck was silent other than the alpha’s heavy breathing. Dean’s body was still tense due to the cabin being absolutely filled with the scent of Benny’s rage. And Benny hadn't said a word to him. Was… Was Benny mad at Dean? He'd been so angry at the other boys. It was clear that he didn't like his surprise, and Dean had participated in it, too. It would only be reasonable for Benny to be mad at him as well.

Dean began to shiver uncontrollably, goosebumps rising along his bound limbs underneath the layer of drying cum that coated his slutty, disgusting body. Tears welled up in his eyes and he blinked them away and began to suck on the dildo in his mouth for comfort. It didn't even really hurt at all, even though he'd never had anything of that size this deep in his face-hole before. He hoped that at least his dad would be pleased, since it meant that they could probably advance his oral training.

Dean’s cunt joined his mouth and began milking the dildo that it was holding. Dean tried to focus on the feeling of the objects in his holes filling him up and grounding him. He knew that Benny wouldn’t hurt him like he'd hurt Roman, but he was terrified that he’d been bad enough that Benny wouldn't want to be his friend anymore. He wished that the knotted dildo wasn’t gagging him so that he could apologize and tell Benny that he really really hadn't intended to upset him.

Dean closed his eyes so that he wasn't looking up at the car ceiling and he could pretend that he was clean and sitting in the passenger seat like normal, instead of boxed up and sticky like a second-hand fleshlight that Benny had found in a dumpster.

The truck drove over potholes and speed bumps, jostling the big colorful box that contained the sweet little boy. Each time, Benny put out his arm, using his shaking hand to make sure that the box didn’t slide forward; to keep his precious cargo safe. Even with every ounce of focus he could muster directed towards calming his racing heart, suppressing his rage and silencing the growls that threatened to tear from his chest with every exhale, the lovely young omega in the passenger seat was still at the forefront of the alpha’s mind.

When the truck rolled to a stop, Dean blinked open his eyes only when he heard the passenger door open again and felt the box lifted into Benny’s strong arms again. He stared up at the cloudy dark sky through the square mouth of his container, huffing little breaths through his nose. The box was set down on the ground for a moment while Dean heard Benny fumbling with his keys – it took Benny three tries to get his apartment key into the lock, hands shaking with adrenaline and distress – and then Dean was being carried over a new threshold into a room that smelled like. Like soup and fried food and Benny.

The door swung shut behind them and Dean’s container was again lowered to the floor, but this time, Benny didn't ignore him. Instead, the alpha’s big hands tore down the walls of the box until Dean was no longer caged. Then, he used his warm hands to stroke over Dean’s shivering, bound limbs with great care like Dean was something nice and expensive instead of just a free-to-use cumdump.

“Oh god, cher,” Benny said finally, the first words he'd spoken to Dean all evening. Dean was shocked to hear a tremble in the alpha's voice. 

Benny’s hand came up and his trembling fingers closed around the base of the dildo that was wedged down Dean’s throat. Then, the older boy ever-so-gently eased the silicone knot from behind Dean’s teeth. He had to help Dean to overstretch his jaw to do so, and then slowly pulled out the rest of the silicone shaft with a slurp before tossing it aside and cupping Dean’s face with both of his big hands. Once his throat was empty, Dean gave a few tiny wet coughs and whimpered at the pain that always came from being gagged for an extended length of time. Benny’s calloused thumbs massaged little circles at the aching hinges of Dean’s jaw.

“I’m so sorry, cher, I didn't realize, I didn't notice… I didn't think. Didn’t stop to wonder why you weren’t talkin’. You… You alright, little brother? Can you breathe alright? Can you speak?”

Dean’s lower lip wobbled and his toes curled, fingers clenching and unclenching. He looked up at his friend’s face to find Benny’s blue eyes staring back at him with concern. Benny didn't smell as angry anymore.

“I’m sorry, Benny,” Dean whispered hoarsely. “I’m really sorry. I just w-wanted to do something nice for you, I p-promise. I didn't mean to make you mad.”

Benny’s face crumpled and the alpha bowed his head until his forehead was resting against Dean’s, thumbs still tracing circles into the sides of his jaw. When he spoke, his words sounded wet.

“You’re always apologizin’ even though you ain't never done anythin' wrong,” Benny said softly. Dean felt something drip down onto his cheeks from Benny’s face.

“But I did,” Dean protested. “You were so angry. Me an’ your friends w-wanted to surprise you an’ I’m sorry Benny, I really thought y-you’d like it!”

“Dean,” Benny said imploringly, “I ain’t mad at you.”

Benny pulled away but he didn't take his hands away from Dean’s face, even though Dean realized that Benny must be getting those other boys’ cum all over his fingers… and then that realization brought him back to reality, to his inflated belly and his filthy body and how there was only one reason why Benny wouldn't have liked his surprise and it was that Roman was wrong and Coach Brady was right all along. It didn't matter how wrecked Dean’s cunt was; Benny didn’t want to use it because Dean was too disgusting.

Dean turned his face away, pulling it out of Benny’s hands. Benny let him, though his fingers hovered closeby before he finally lowered them.

“Wait here for just a moment, cher. I'm gonna get some scissors to cut you free.”

Benny really was only gone for a moment before he returned; Dean watched him step a little ways into the room and pick up some safety scissors from a messy, rope-covered coffee table. When he came back, he made quick work of Dean’s bindings, starting with his wrists and then his legs before finally cutting off the chest harness. He very carefully avoided touching Dean’s swollen belly, but every little movement made it jiggle like a water balloon.

As soon as the rope was all cut away, Benny helped Dean stretch out his legs with gentle, deft hands. He tenderly massaged his sore joints and the impressions that the rope had left behind on Dean’s limbs and checked the color and responsiveness of Dean’s fingers and toes with the kind of skill that made Dean realize, even through the dizzy haze of what he still thought for sure was slick addlement, that Benny must be very experienced with rope.

“There you go, cher,” Benny finally whispered, and he moved his hands slowly to between Dean’s legs where they were bowed out to accommodate the huge, knotted dildo in his cunt, and then closed his fingers around the thick silicone base.

“Wait!” Dean yelped, and the cum filling him up sloshed around as he threw his hands out. “Please!”

Benny froze instantly and pulled his hands away, ashen-faced. 

“I wasn't gonna use your hole, little brother, I swear.” He looked sick to his stomach at the very thought. “Was just gonna take that thing out of you. Make you more comfortable.”

At Benny’s words and the sight of his disgust, Dean felt shame and disappointment overtake him. That was proof, then. Evidence that Benny didn't want to use his hole because it was too disgusting. He turned his head away.

“No,” Dean whispered towards the wall, not looking at the older boy, not wanting to see the repulsion on his face. “I just. It's, it's keeping all the cum inside. If you take it out, it's gonna spill everywhere.” He gingerly raised one of his freed hands to press lightly against the soft skin of his stretched belly, and felt his stomach turn at the squishy feeling.

“Oh,” Benny said.

“I’m sorry,” Dean sniffed. He really did want to be emptied. He tried to think of a way to do it that wouldn't stink up Benny’s apartment or get it dirty. “If, um, if you help me up. We can go outside. You can drain me into the gutter and wash me off with a garden hose.” 

Dean was happy with that idea; it was dark outside so Benny wouldn’t have to see how gross Dean looked when his cumdump body got drained. And getting washed off with the hose was easy and kind of fun, Dad and Sammy cleaned Dean off that way all the time in the summer. It might be a little cold since it was nighttime, but Dean was sure that Benny would let him use a towel to dry off afterwards. And maybe even hug him to keep him warm.

Benny was silent for a few moments, and then he shifted forwards.

“Can I touch you, cher?”

Dean didn't really understand the question; Benny knew that he could touch Dean, so why was he asking? Was it a test?

“Um, yes?” Dean finally answered, hoping that he didn't sound stupid.

Benny hooked his arms under Dean’s legs and shoulders and hefted the bloated omega up into the air. He stood there for a moment, breathing heavily, looking down at Dean who had squeezed his eyes shut as the sudden motion made his stomach tilt nauseatingly and the room spin around him.

“Imma take you into the bathroom, cher,” Benny said softly, bending down his head and pressing his dry lips to Dean's sticky brow. “I'll get you cleaned up in there.”

Benny’s bathroom was small and a little dirty, and the sink was yellowed, but the chipped bathtub was large; one of the old-fashioned clawfoot ones with a clear plastic shower curtain that wrapped all around it. Benny got heavily to his knees beside it and lowered Dean’s naked body into it, but when he tried to pull away, Dean found that he couldn't make himself unwrap his arms from around the alpha’s neck.

“Nnnh,” Dean whimpered, clutching his fingers tightly into the collar of Benny’s shirt and burying his face into the side of the older boy’s neck. “Benny.”

“Do you… D’you want me to get in there with you, cher?” Benny asked hesitantly, and Dean nodded against his warm skin. “I… I’ll need to take my clothes off.” Dean nodded again. “A-alright. Just… y’gotta let me go so I can… So I can do that.”

Dean reluctantly relinquished his grip and lowered his hands to rest on his huge belly. He shivered on the floor of the ceramic tub while he watched Benny begin to remove his clothes.

The alpha was bashful as he did so, which Dean wasn't used to. Most people other than his family thought of Dean as kind of just like a tool or a piece of furniture or maybe a pet, so they weren't usually shy showing their cocks around him. But Benny was blushing when he pulled off his shirt and then his pants and socks and finally his underwear. Dean’s eyes widened when he saw Benny’s flaccid penis; Roman hadn't been mistaken about everything. Of course Dean had felt it before through Benny’s pants, but seeing it uncovered and hanging heavy between the older boy's legs was different. Dean felt his needy cunt clench around the dildo and lowered his eyes respectfully; Benny didn't want to use him, so Dean shouldn't… he shouldn't.

“Alright, cher,” Benny finally said, and Dean scooted forward in the tub so that Benny could climb in and settle behind him. It took a few moments of maneuvering until Dean was comfortably positioned between the alpha’s legs, hesitantly leaning back against Benny’s muscular chest and soft stomach, wrapped protectively in the alpha’s arms. Benny really didn't smell angry at all anymore, just… protective. Possessive. Dean felt his body relax into the comforting scent.

“Are you ready, cher?” Benny whispered into his ear, and the ghost of his breath and rumbly words made Dean shudder and his stretched pink hole spasm. He nodded, and Benny gently took one of his slender legs and bent it up, hooking it over his own thick thigh so that it was out of the way, and wrapped his hand around the base of the dildo that was plugging Dean up.

“Unngh,” Dean moaned into his hands as Benny firmly tugged the fat silicone knot out of the clutching grip of his used-up hole with a pop. The sound was followed by the wet schlick of the long, girthy shaft sliding out of his silky channel, and then the audible patter of cum beginning to trickle out of his softly-gaping entrance down onto the ceramic floor of the tub.

Dean had expected that there would be a heavy, steady outpour, but as he looked down at his stomach he couldn’t see much of a change in size and the sluggish trail of cum flowing from between his legs towards the drain was small.

“It's not c-coming out,” he slurred tearfully. His body must be too slutty to relinquish its contents. Benny set the large dildo down onto the floor beside the tub and then gently moved his hands back towards the upset omega’s slick, swollen core.

“You're too tense, cher,” he said softly into Dean’s ear as he prodded around the younger boy's entrance, a couple of fingers dipping inside and feeling the tight clench of the omega’s hot, slick channel. “That's all. Your sweet hole is too tight to let it flow out quickly.”

Dean sniffled and raised his arms to wipe the back of his wrists over his eyes, clearing away salty tears and tacky cum.

“Sorry,” he said. “I’m bad.”

Benny’s fingers edged deeper into his hole, a third joining in, and began to gently massage the tight inner walls while the weak outflow of alpha cum continued past his knuckles and down the drain. His head lowered and Dean felt Benny’s stubble scratching comfortingly against his cheek, the older boy’s lips just at his ear. It sent pleasant shivers down his spine that made him feel even worse.

“You’re the least bad person I’ve ever known, cher. Such a good boy. Such a good boy.” He pressed a kiss to Dean’s tragus, right where Doug had done so earlier that night. Dean miserably shook his head.

“I was s’posed to get all loose,” he mumbled through his hands, which were still scrubbing hopelessly at the tears that were streaming down his face. “M-my slutty hole was s’posed. S’posedta get all wrecked an’ sloppy for you.”

“Cher, I don’t…” Benny started slowly, sounding a little sad and hesitant, but Dean quickly continued before his friend could finish telling him that it didn't matter since Benny thought Dean’s hole was too disgusting to use regardless.

“I know you don’t wanna use it anyway, since I’m t-too gross, b-but…” Dean’s breath hitched and he dug his fingernails angrily into his cheeks. “I tried so hard, an’ my stupid slutty hole is still no good!”

It wasn't fair. No matter what Dean did, he was never good enough. Alphas always teased him for his hole being too sloppy to properly use – called him ‘special’ and ‘high needs’ without any of the love in their voices that his family had when they said it – but the one time that he'd actually tried to get his hole wrecked for his friend it hadn't even worked! He must be the worst omega in the world.

Dean didn't even notice the way that his hole had clamped down even harder around Benny’s fingers in his agitation and effectively plugged the outflow of cum. The alpha slowly pumped his fingers in and out of the insecure little cunt and gingerly cupped the omega’s full belly with his other hand.

“I don't think you’re gross, cher,” Benny told him urgently. “I could never think that. I don't understand; why’d you wanna… wreck your precious hole for me? Did I… What’d I do to make you think I wanted that?”

“I thought you didn't wanna use me since I'm too much of a disgusting slut,” Dean started in a whisper, “But Roman s-said that you do, only since I’m your... Um, your b-best friend, you’ve been holding back ‘cause you like to use omega holes all rough and you d-don’t wanna hurt me. So we were gonna surprise you with my wrecked h-hole. So you could use me how you want and it would be okay.”

Benny’s fingers plunged into his hole as far as they could go and stayed there, curled against the clenching walls like he needed to feel the heat of Dean around him. He buried his nose in Dean’s cum-clumped hair and pressed his hand against the balloon of Dean’s swollen belly in a way that made it deform and didn't feel so good, but it made Dean happy to be held so tightly.

“Roman told you that? So you… You were there on purpose? He didn't… He didn't take you?” 

Dean shook his head, and Benny shuddered. “Roman was so nice. He invited me to the party an’ drove me in his car. And your other friends were nice, too, they used my cunt up real hard and helped make me into a cumdump. I'm sorry you didn't like it, Benny, I'm sorry.”

“That's why you didn’t want a ride home today?” Benny asked brokenly, and Dean nodded and Benny’s fingers shifted inside him and made Dean’s stuffed cunt flutter against his palm. “Dean, I… I’m so sorry.”

Dean frowned in confusion. “Why?”

“He… Roman lied to you, Dean. He lied to you about me, to convince you to go with him. What he told you, it wasn't true. I’m so sorry.”

A knot formed in Dean’s throat far bigger and more painful than the dildo had been. It had been obvious that Roman had been mistaken about whether Benny would like the surprise; Benny just didn't want to use Dean's hole at all, and that was… that was okay. But Dean hadn’t thought… he hadn’t thought that it all had been a lie. 

A shudder wracked his body, and his tummy sloshed, and he tried very hard not to but he couldn't help it; Dean’s silent tears melted into full-on sobs as he started crying in earnest.

“Oh, cher,” Benny said sadly, nuzzling the side of his face with his nose, and Dean couldn't help but lean into the comfort.

“I’m s-s-sorry!” he cried. “But it’s okay, y-you don’t have to feel b-bad, it’s okay if I'm not your b-best f-f-friend!” He hiccuped and sobbed again, turning his face away from Benny’s warm lips even as he longed to do the opposite. “And you don't haveta touch me l-like this and b-be all nice to me if you d-don't wanna use my h-h-hole!”

Benny froze and then slowly withdrew his fingers from the clutches of Dean’s tiny pink cunt. He leaned forward and turned the handle on the faucet; it sputtered to life, and Benny held his hand under it until it began to get hot before drawing the curtain closed around them.

“Close your eyes, cher,” he said softly, and Dean obeyed.

He felt his body lifted back up and turned until it was him resting with his back against the side of the big tub, legs spread and knees hiked up around Benny’s hips with the older boy kneeling over him. A moment later, a spray of hot water was pouring over his shivering chest from behind the alpha’s back. Benny had turned on the shower.

“Benny,” Dean shuddered, and the older boy shushed him gently and began to run a wet, soapy washcloth over his cum-coated body.

“Good boy,” Benny told him, voice low and rumbling. “You're such a good boy, cher. I’m sorry I wasn't clear. I’ve been so focused on bein’ what I thought was a good alpha – on not makin’ you feel pressured – I didn't stop to listen to you, to hear what you needed.”

A little noise of question rose up from Dean's chest as he leaned blindly into Benny’s touch – the older boy hadn't told him to open his eyes yet – while the alpha continued to clean his filthy body. He startled a second later when he felt warm lips touch his own, and let out a breath.

“Roman was lyin’ when he told you those things, cher, but he was right about one thing.” He kissed Dean’s cheek next, and then the hinge of his jaw. “You are my best friend. You… You have no idea how much you… God. Do you know how much I think about you? Think about this pretty face o' yours?”

Dean keened and tilted his head as Benny moved down until he was kissing on the omega’s scent gland, licking it and then biting down gently on the skin of his neck around it until Dean’s toes curled.

“Do you know what my favorite scent in the world is? I ain't known you more'n a couple months, and it's this right here, this scent…” He inhaled deeply there, and Dean felt something twitch against his swollen belly. His face blushed scarlet when he realized that it was Benny’s cock. “I smell this, cher, I smell it in my car and on my clothes after I come home from spendin’ time with you, and I can't even describe how it makes me feel.”

“But… I smell gross,” Dean whispered. “Like. Like a cumdump.”

Benny shook his head. “That ain't what you smell like, cher. I smell those other guys’ cum, but it ain't a part of your smell. You smell like… you smell like Dean.”

Dean’s hole twitched and a small wave of alpha cum flowed out of him, enough that he felt his belly shrink a little bit. He could smell the cum in the air, but Benny was too focused on the scent of Dean’s relief to notice; nuzzling into Dean’s scent gland and peppering his neck with hot, wet kisses.

“But my body,” Dean protested. “It’s. It's so slutty. And it stretches an’, an’ it looks weird. And m-my hole…”

“Your body don’t look weird,” Benny assured him. Dean’s body was clean of beta cum, now, and Benny cupped the younger boy’s bloated belly in his hand and lowered his face to kiss Dean’s swollen, cherry-red nipples and lick over the marks left by the rope. “It’s beautiful ‘cause it’s got your wonderful head attached to it. I don't care how… how slutty it is. How much it stretches. This is my friend Dean’s body, and it's beautiful.”

Feeling lightheaded and giddy, alpha cum began to flow more heavily out of Dean’s fluttering cunt. The room was still tilting around him, but it felt pleasant with Benny's mouth on his skin and Benny’s words in his ears.

“M-my hole?” he reminded Benny hesitantly, the hope in his chest nearly painful. Benny sucked in a deep breath and paused before lowering his mouth to Dean’s belly button and his hands to Dean’s needy, insecure cunt.

“Your hole,” Benny breathed, “Is perfect.” He skimmed his calloused fingertips around the supple rim and then slipped three fingers back into the clenching depths. “Your sweet hole is so perfect, cher. It's perfect when it's tight and when it's stretched so loose that a grown man’s big fist can just slip inside. It's perfect when it's wet with just your sweet slick and when it's dripping with the cum of other alphas or betas. It's perfect when it's empty and when it's packed so full… even when it's filled with things that shouldn’t ever have been put inside. It's perfect.”

Dean shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut even more tightly, but he felt Benny’s tender fingers on his cheek a moment later and his mouth back on Dean’s. The fingers in his cunt twisted and slowly pumped inside him as he tentatively parted his lips for Benny’s tongue. 

The flow of cum pouring out of him thickened, now a steady stream getting washed away down the drain by the hot water of the shower; Benny removed his hand from Dean’s face and, still kissing him and licking into his shy mouth, pressed his big palm down onto the mound of the younger boy’s belly. Like when Dean and Sammy jumped on the deflating air mattress to make the air escape quicker, the pressure of Benny’s solid hand made the glut of cum blurt out of Dean's quivering hole in more intense bursts. It soaked the alpha’s hand and wrist as Benny continued to finger his emptying cunt, but Benny didn't seem to mind. He just pressed his hand down harder, gentle but firm, deflating Dean’s blown-up belly and distracting him with hot wet kisses.

“See that, cher?” Benny finally pulled away and whispered. “You were just nervous is all. Just needed to make you relax. Your perfect hole let everything out.”

The alpha pressed a chaste kiss to Dean’s forehead and the sound of the shower turned off. Dean allowed his eyes to flutter open and looked down to see that his tummy was back to normal; flat and soft and clean. His penis was soft, but Benny’s wasn’t; Benny’s cock was hard, curving up and slightly to the side, too heavy to point up straight towards his abdomen like Shaun's had but instead weighed down and hot against Dean’s right thigh. Benny’s hand was still between Dean’s legs, three fingers curled gently inside him and thumb rubbing at the swollen rim behind his tender balls. Experimentally, Dean tensed his muscles to see if he could squeeze anything out; he felt his silky walls clench around Benny’s fingers, but nothing slid out of him other than a clear string of slick.

“Thank you, Benny,” Dean said, and Benny shook his head and gave him a soft smile.

“Ain't got nothing to thank me for. I like takin' care of you.”

Benny slipped his fingers out of Dean’s stretched and emptied cunt and sat up, pulling Dean with him. Dean tightened his legs around Benny’s hips, wrapping his arms around the alpha’s neck as Benny stood and stepped carefully out of the large tub. The older boy wiped his feet dry on the bathmat and then carried his friend out of the bathroom and into his small apartment, seemingly uncaring that they were dripping water everywhere. Now that he wasn't tied up and distressed, Dean was able to look around a little bit and take everything in. 

It was an old-fashioned studio apartment; in one corner was a small countertop with a two-burner gas stove and a sink with some storage space above and below. A small, circular dinner table was nestled beside it with two chairs. Against one wall, a tattered couch; in front of it the messy coffee table covered with different colors and kinds of bondage rope, some already tied into intricate practice patterns. On the other side of the room was a full-size bed covered with a fluffy comforter, a spindly wooden chair sitting next to it acting as a bedside table, the seat holding a tattered paperback book and a water bottle. Dean was a little surprised to see that the duvet cover on the bed had a neutral-colored floral paisley pattern.

The bed was where Benny carried him to. Dean could feel the older boy’s erection bumping against the swell of his ass the whole way there, a hot, friendly nudge. 

When Benny sat down on his bed with Dean in his lap, his hard-on settled between Dean’s legs. Dean straddled it shyly and felt his cunt tentatively mouth at it, slicking up. He buried his face into Benny’s neck and shifted his hips just a little bit back and forth, rubbing the wet mouth of his tiny pink gape over the top of his friend’s hard cock. Benny’s fingers tightened on his hips and the older boy let out a hiss between clenched teeth.

Dean spoke quietly into Benny’s neck. “If. If Roman lied about you using omega holes all rough until they're ruined, and you… and you don't think my hole is disgusting. Then… w-why don't you wanna use it?” He moved his hips again, this time a little more, spreading slick up and down Benny’s hot length. He could feel his little balls drag across the silky heat of Benny's foreskin, and it felt good and warm.

“God, cher,” Benny moaned, his own hips stuttering upwards and his cock twitching heavily as he buried his nose into Dean’s damp hair. “I… I-I can’t even tell you how much I want… But…”

He pulled back and pushed Dean away from him until both boys could look each other in the eyes. Dean’s were shining, freckled cheeks flushed and pink lips swollen. Benny’s eyes were dark, his expression helpless and wanting.

“What do you want, Dean?” he asked breathlessly.

“It doesn't matter,” Dean replied automatically, but Benny shook his head.

“It matters to me. I want you to tell me what you want.”

And that… that was hard for Dean to argue with in the dizzy haze of his addled brain. Every touch from Benny felt new and the room was swaying around him like a boat coasting along the waves. Benny was an alpha, and Dean had to do what he wanted. He had to tell Benny what he wanted.

What did Dean want?

The truth was that, in the darkest, most horrible, most bad parts of himself – the parts so bad that Dean hadn't ever told anyone, not even his dad or Sam – the thing that Dean really wanted was to not be a fucktoy. But that was silly and dumb, like wanting to be a cat or a bird.

So since Dean was a fucktoy, what Dean wanted most of all was for the people that he loved to love him back for being exactly what he was. Where others observed and commented on how slutty he was with derision or disgust, he wanted his loved ones to do so with affection. Where others used his body with all the care that they put into using a dirty napkin, he wanted his loved ones to do so with pleasure and appreciation. If he had to be used by them, then he wanted to at least see how happy it made them when his hole swallowed up their cocks and his slutty body made them come; he wanted to be a good boy for them and make them proud of him.

“I w-want to please you,” Dean finally replied.

“You do please me,” Benny said. “Just bein’ around you pleases me more than you could imagine. But I’ve told you that before, cher, and you don't seem to believe me. So what do you need? What do you need me to do to make you believe?”

“I n-need…” Dean sucked in a shaky inhale and felt himself blush down to his chest. “I need you to use my hole with your cock a-and…” He broke off and covered his red face with his trembling hands.

“What?” Benny asked him gently. “You need me to use your sweet hole with my cock and… what?” Dean shook his head with embarrassment. “Cher, I want to know. I want to do it for you. That's what’ll please me the most.”

“I need you to tell me I’m good,” Dean admitted ashamedly, “Tell me if I f-feel good. If I’m making you h-happy.” 

Benny caught his chin with strong fingers and kissed him deeply.

“I can do that,” he said, voice low and warm, and then he flipped Dean over and lay him out on the top of his soft bed with his legs spread and the older boy hovering over him.

“You don't need to lie, though,” Dean told him, and Benny kissed him.

“I’d never lie to you.”

Benny’s huge cock dragged across Dean’s thigh, leaving a streak of pre-cum and hot tingles over the younger boy’s skin. Dean raised his knees and parted them more and reached down to spread himself open just as he'd done for the alpha earlier that same evening. But this time, he was clean and smelled like soap and he wasn't tied up and his belly wasn't swollen with the cum of other alphas. He was empty inside with room for just Benny.

Benny gazed down at him with his blown-dark blue eyes like Dean was just the most incredible thing that he'd ever seen. He took his hard length in hand and shifted it until it was positioned over Dean’s beaconing entrance and nudged it forward. He shifted his hips and the fat, hot head of his thick cock rubbed up and down along the younger boy’s perineum until it was suddenly caught at the slick mouth of Dean’s entrance, trapped by the pleading rim of Dean’s needy hole which had grabbed onto it and was holding it tightly.

“And you're sure, cher? This is what you want- what you need? I just wanna give you what you need.” His voice was low and shaking with desire, eyes fixed on the younger boy's lovely face.

Dean nodded and nodded and pushed his heels into the mattress until his hips had raised enough that the blazing hot head of Benny’s cock popped through his rim and nestled warmly in the slick embrace of his drooling hole. The alpha let out a helpless moan and barely restrained himself from slamming all the way home.

“Yes, Benny, I need it. I need it. Please.” He reached out further and shakily brushed his fingers along the silky soft heat of Benny’s foreskin, and with a whimper, the alpha smoothly sheathed his cock fully inside the young omega's body.

Dean’s hands flew to his belly and he keened as his empty hole was filled again; this time with a cock that was even bigger than the big dildo had been. Even though his omega hole had been so stretched, he could still feel the shape of the alpha’s cock inside him; could see the bulge in his stomach that formed around Benny’s hard length, could feel Benny’s cockhead with his hands through his belly. Benny paused for a moment inside him, shaking with the need to move.

“You alright, cher?” he asked. “I ain't hurtin’ you?”

Dean dizzily looked up at his friend’s face. He kept one hand on his belly, cupping the bulge of Benny’s cock. With his other, he reached up to brush his fingers over Benny’s stubble up to the almost sad furrow of his brow and tried to smooth it. Benny was too young to have wrinkles like Dad did.

“You're not hurtin’ me,” Dean said, more in realization than reassurance. “I’m really stretchy, Benny. I'm a really good cocksleeve, I can fit a whole lot. You’re not gonna wreck me.”

Benny exhaled shakily and shook his head. “You're a good boy and nothin' else. And no, I ain't gonna wreck you,” he said like a promise and then drew his hips back and thrust again, and Dean’s hole flooded with new slick. Benny adjusted his angle and when he thrust again, Dean’s cock twitched. “I’m gonna take care of you. Give you what you need.”

He leaned down and began to lick and suck on Dean’s neck, fists clenched and forearms resting on the blanket on either side of Dean’s head as he plunged forwards again and again. Between their bodies, Dean’s cock began to fill and soon it was hard and pink and leaking slick that lubricated the slide of it between their bellies.

“Sorry,” Dean said, knowing that Benny could feel Dean’s little erection against his abdomen with each deep thrust. People didn't like that, how Dean’s cock worked like a normal one.

“Sorry for what, cher? For this?” The alpha ghosted his fingers over the underside of Dean’s hard length and made the younger boy whine. “Don't be sorry for that. I… I really like it, cher. It makes me really happy.”

“Really?” Dean asked, and Benny nodded.

“You're such a good boy. I like makin’ you feel good… I like seein’ you hard. Love the way it feels.” Benny rolled his hips and felt the slick suction of Dean’s hole spasming around him, felt the hot slide of the omega’s leaking cock against his abs. “It feels good, cher, feelin’ you hard against me.” Dean’s dick twitched between them, and when Benny felt that his own cock jolted and he furrowed his brow, biting his lip to stifle a moan. “F-feels real good. You feel… You feel so fuckin’ good.”

Dean blushed. Sam thought that Dean’s hard-ons were really fun to play with, and Dad thought they were cute. But his hard-ons didn't bring his dad or brother this kind of pleasure; not like they clearly did for Benny. He experimentally hitched his hips, grinding his cock against Benny’s belly, and let out his own moan when he felt the warm friction of the older boy’s stomach hair against his length. Benny responded in kind, dropping his head down and groaning loudly, hips stuttering as he ground his thick erection into the younger boy’s packed cunt.

“Your hole,” Benny moaned, open mouth breathing hot, wet air onto Dean’s cheek. “God, cher, your hole is so fuckin’ hot, so slick… So sweet, I wanna… Wanna stay inside forever…” 

He sloppily kissed Dean’s face, but soon he was licking the dried salt from Dean’s freckled cheeks and then from the corners of his squeezed-closed eyes, pressing wet kisses onto his eyelids, wetting his eyelashes with spit; making Dean tremble and squirt around the alpha’s cock as shivers tingled from the nape of his neck down his spine to his molten core. Both of Dean’s hands were back on his tummy, feeling the bump of Benny’s big cock against his palms as it protruded from his slender stomach, cupping and squeezing it in time with the rhythmic clenching of his strained cunt and shivering at the sounds that rumbled up from Benny’s chest when he did so. 

Benny was using him, using him so thoroughly but so so tenderly; every long, heavy withdrawal of the alpha’s fat cock from his clutching depths felt like it hollowed Dean out. Like it was gutting him, like it left an aching, hungry void. Benny was longer and thicker than even his daddy was, and Dean felt so pleased with himself for being able to squeeze down around it even though it overstretched his worn-out muscles so much. 

After everything that had happened that day, after he'd been such a dumb slut and believed Roman, and after he’d been such a horrible friend by participating in the surprise that had upset Benny so much, Benny still thought of Dean as his best friend and Benny was taking so much pleasure from Dean’s slutty body. He didn't even think Dean’s filthy cunt was gross. Dean was being so good for him! He was making up for how bad he’d been!

“My knot,” Benny murmured against Dean’s brow, “It’s growin’... You feel so good inside. Been dreamin’ about this ever… ever since I tasted your sweet hole… Can you take my knot, cher? Can you take one more big knot inside you?”

“Yeah,” Dean breathed. “I can take anything you wanna put inside me, Benny. I can take anything for you. I promise.”

He was sure of it in that moment, that he really could take anything; Benny's knot, his fist, his whole entire arm.

Dean could feel the knot growing at the base of Benny’s cock, could feel it making his cock grow longer and dig deeper inside him with every thrust. Before the knot got big enough to start to hurt passing through Dean’s swollen rim, Benny buried himself to the hilt and then stayed there, grinding against Dean’s wet hot insides while his knot finished growing.

The alpha’s knot was as impressive as the rest of his cock, as big as the alpha’s fist. Dean could feel his hole clamp down around it tightly, beginning to unconsciously milk it as they tied. He felt breathless, and at the first sensation of Benny’s cum flooding his worn-loose hole – beginning to blow up his belly again under his shaking hands – Dean mewled and spurted his clear cum out of his own cock.

“Fuck,” Benny hissed, and when Dean didn't feel his cum landing on his chest he fluttered his eyes open and looked down to see that Benny had caught Dean’s spend in his cupped hand. “Fuck, cher, you… You got no fuckin' idea. You're so… So fuckin’ good.”

As he watched, the older boy raised his hand to his face and licked Dean’s slick cum out of his own palm like he was starving for it. Dean watched in amazement, feeling Benny’s cock pulse with heat and his knot throb inside him while Benny swallowed Dean’s cum.

“Does it taste diff’rent?” he slurred, exhausted and dizzy. “When it comes outta my… outta there instead of my hole?”

Benny panted and looked down at him. His own face was flushed, chest heaving, his big, bulky body dripping sweat down onto Dean’s much smaller frame. He licked his lips.

“Not exactly,” he finally said. “But it feels different to me, in my heart. Knowin’ it came from there. From your cock.” He reached down as if to take Dean’s softening penis into his big warm hand, but he stopped himself just short; Dean could almost feel the heat of his palm beating against his tired, spent flesh. “It pleases me, knowin’ that it came from you feelin’ good in that way. It makes it taste even better.”

Dean blushed and his hips twitched as if to buck up and press his softened cock into Benny’s hand, but the huge knot wedged tightly in his stretched cunt stopped him from moving at all.

“You can have it as much as you want,” Dean told him. “My body's really slutty, so you can take it from me all the time. Sammy timed me once; he made me spurt four times in ten minutes.” 

Benny moaned and leaned his heavy forehead against Dean’s shoulder. He settled his palm on Dean’s stomach, pressing down to feel his own length pumping cum into the pinned omega. 

“If you do it that many times I get really tired, though,” Dean continued helpfully. “But it’s okay if that happens ‘cause Dad and Sammy told me I can still spurt even when I'm sleeping, so. If you want more, you can just keep going.”

Benny chuckled, and for some reason it sounded a little sad. He shook his head against Dean’s shoulder and the younger boy cringed, worried that he'd said something wrong again; but when Benny pulled away and looked back down at him, he didn't look upset. He just smiled tiredly at his friend.

“That's alright, cher. It tastes better for me when you're awake. But thanks for lettin’ me know.”

Benny tucked an arm under Dean’s shoulders and lifted him up to rearrange them so that Benny was lying down in his bed with Dean atop him. He grunted and rolled over a bit, holding Dean upright with one hand and fishing blindly around on the chair beside his bed with the other until his hand closed around his big, plastic water bottle.

“Here, cher, drink up. You gotta hydrate. You been used a lot tonight.”

Dean took the bottle gratefully and used his teeth to pop the cap before using both hands to tilt it up and drink big, thirsty gulps. Even though it was warm, it tasted even sweeter than the iced water that he'd gotten at the party had because Benny had given it to him.

With a melancholy sort of fondness, Benny watched his young friend drink down the water. Dean’s legs were spread wide, straddling the alpha’s hips with his knees digging into the comforter on either side. He idly stroked his fingers up and down the creamy soft skin of Dean’s naked thighs and narrow hips, pausing to soothe his thumbs just above the base of the omega’s soft penis, and then sliding them up to feel where his own big cock was making the younger boy's belly bulge and his cum was making him bloat again.

When Dean was finished with the bottle, he coughed a little bit and then lowered it and looked down to meet his friend’s eyes. Benny smiled at him and wrapped his big hands around Dean’s rib cage, and then gently pulled Dean down to lay against him, chest-to-chest, while they waited for Benny to finish tying him.

Dean sighed sweetly and closed his eyes, feeling a smile pull at his lips and warmth glow in his breast as he nuzzled into the heat of Benny’s beefy chest. He dug his toes into the thick blanket and shifted his hips, feeling the tug at his bulging rim that was just a reminder of what a good job his slutty body had done pleasing Benny that day. And after everything, he wasn't feeling quite so dizzy and sick anymore, which maybe meant that the slick-addlement wasn't permanent and that he'd be back to normal in the morning. He hoped that was the case. He was already so stupid, it would be… It would be just horrible if his sluttiness tonight had permanently broken his brain.

But, Dean supposed as he felt himself drift to sleep, his sated cunt happily sucking on Benny’s fat knot as the older boy traced patterns onto his back and kissed his dark blond hair: as long as his loved ones still thought that he was a good boy while they used his slutty omega hole, then maybe being brain-broken would be okay.

Chapter 21: John's Good Boy

John very rarely felt this way, but he was disappointed in Dean.

Sam – even at his young age – was a bit headstrong and could be quite cheeky and defiant when he wanted his way, whereas Dean had always been John’s good boy. Ever since he was little – even while Mary was still alive – Dean had always done what his parents told him to do. He’d respond obediently to requests and do his chores when prompted. He’d even acquiesce without whine or complaint to Mary – and later, to John – using a finger or toy and training lube to help his little omega hole to practice stretching, back before he'd come into his slick.

All of that to say that Dean seldom got into trouble, and when he did it was almost never due to his own intentional disobedience. But tonight, Dean had lied to his father. He had told John that he'd be attending a party with his new school friends at the local arcade, but had gone somewhere else instead; and despite knowing that John expected a call by 8:30PM hadn't even sent a text by 8:45. 

John had driven to the arcade at 9:00 – prepared to lecture his son in front of his friends if need be – only to find not even the scent of his boy on the premises. After calling Dean’s phone a dozen times and receiving no answer, John had cruised through the downtown in a panic, the windows down in the hope of somehow catching a whiff of his omega’s scent on the night breeze. 

John spent two hours like that, heart beating out of his chest and his stomach in his throat, nauseous and terrified that when he finally did find Dean it would be his beautiful little body abused and discarded in a dumpster somewhere. John was so frightened that he’d even forgotten to call the house and let Sam know that he'd be late, leaving his young alpha son home alone for far longer than he'd expected to be.

When John’s phone finally rang and he saw that it was Dean’s number, John answered it immediately.

“Where the hell are you, Dean?” John asked, panic and anger coloring his tone.

Dean answered with a slur in his voice. “I. I’m at Benny’s house. I’m sorry, Daddy. Can you come pick me up?”

“Do you know what time it is? Do you remember what time your curfew was?”

“Sorry. I know, Daddy, I’m really sorry. I, I didn't have my phone an’ I lost track of time.”

John could hear Benny mumbling into his son’s ear from just inches away – he suspected that Dean was probably sitting in the older boy’s lap – and Dean carefully repeated Benny’s address to his father over the phone.

When John finally knocked on the door to the alpha teenager’s shabby apartment, Benny himself opened the door with Dean, naked, in his arms. His son’s legs were wrapped around the older boy’s waist, his arms around the alpha’s neck. Dean tiredly accepted being handed off to his father instead, and John held him tightly, hugging him with ferocity and immediately slipping three fingers into his son’s loose cunt.

“I was worried sick about you, baby,” John told him, gently forcing his fingers as deep into his son’s stretched hole as he could. “I had no idea where you were.” 

He looked over the top of his son’s damp hair at Benny. The teenager had a look about him, a sort of glow that keyed in John immediately that the younger alpha had pleasured himself with Dean’s hole that night. He frowned, disapproving; he'd trusted that Benny was a good friend to his son, had allowed Benny to be alone with his omega and take him places without John’s supervision, and this was how Benny returned John’s good favor? By taking him home to use his hole without asking John first?

“I expected more from you, son,” he told Benny sternly. “I thought you were a more responsible alpha than this. Taking my omega to a second location without consulting me first? I thought he'd been stolen. I don't know if I can trust you to be alone with Dean if this is the kind of stunt you pull.”

Dean shook his head adamantly, curling his fingers into John’s collar and leaning back to look up at him. His cheeks were red-flushed, pupils dilated and eyes unfocused.

“No, Daddy, Benny didn't do anythin’ wrong!” he objected. “It wasn’t his fault, I swear. I, um, I went with the other boys to one of their houses an’ I didn’t tell you.” He lowered his head, ashamed. “I’m sorry. Benny didn’t even know I wasn’t s’posed t’be there. An’ I got a li’l sick an’ he took me home an’ my phone was off but we didn't notice.”

John raised his eyebrows at his son’s slurred words and glassy eyes and glanced back at Benny.

“Did you get my son drunk?” he asked the other alpha bluntly, and Benny's eyes widened while he shook his head.

“No, sir, I’d never,” Benny replied, and Dean shook his head in agreement before moaning at the sudden motion and leaning his forehead against his father’s collarbone.

“Benny gave me lotsa water. ‘M not drunk, Daddy, ‘m just really slutty so my brain’s all funny. ‘M sorry. Is it permanent?” He sounded genuinely worried; John kissed his damp hair and soothingly applied pressure to that sweet spot inside his slick cunt, rubbing his fingers gently while Dean’s hips twitched helplessly at his ministrations.

“No, sweetheart, it's not permanent. You'll be fine in the morning.” He wasn't convinced that Dean wasn’t drunk, but he couldn’t smell alcohol on his breath – just spunk and Benny’s saliva and something sweet like fruit candy – and he trusted that neither Dean nor Benny were lying about Benny not giving him alcohol.

Gently, John asked him, “Did someone use your mouth, Dean? I can smell cum on your breath. I wouldn't be mad at you, I know you would never let someone do that without my permission. But if someone made you…”

Dean shook his head. “Some beta boys came in my face-hole. But they didn't put their cocks in, Daddy, just made me hold my mouth open for them to aim.” Dean turned to rest his cheek against John’s collarbone. “Nnh,” he sighed, his used hole fluttering around his father’s thick fingers. “But. They did put a dildo inside. Just. Just to gag me. They didn’t fuck my face with it. Was… Was it okay for them to do that?”

“Yeah, baby, that's okay," John reassured his worried son.

Benny was watching the two of them anxiously. Well, his attention was more on Dean; there was a painful longing in his expression that made John think of when he’d first met Mary. 

“I really am sorry, sir,” Benny apologized again, looking genuinely devastated, wringing his hands in front of him to keep himself from reaching out for one last sweet touch of the precious omega in John’s arms. “I am trustworthy, I can promise you that. I brought him home to take care o’ him. I should’ve called you, I know, but I was… distracted. It won’t happen again.”

“Please, Daddy, I promise,” Dean implored, the words misting warmly against the skin of John’s neck. “Benny was so nice. He. He was ‘spons’ble. He, he washed me off an’ squeezed me out an’ made sure I was okay an’ used up my hole real good.”

“I can feel that,” John said wryly, curling his fingers again inside the slick tunnel of his son’s noticeably-stretched hole and making Dean shudder. 

“I was a real good boy for him,” Dean whispered, and it wasn't often that John heard that note of pride in Dean’s voice when he talked about being well-used by someone outside of his family. “I’m his best friend.” 

Dean spoke those words with such a note of wonder and delight that John couldn't help but feel his heart clench. He tried to be everything that Dean needed – him and Sammy – but he knew that his eldest son was lonely. He saw the way that Dean watched the other kids play with their friends at the park or in the neighborhood, and the way that he listened to Sam talk about his school friends and playdates with melancholy longing. Sure, Dean loved his family and having his slutty hole filled, but John knew that his son had always dreamed of more than that: of having friends of his own. If Benny was granting Dean that wish, then John couldn't feel anything but grateful to the young alpha.

“Alright,” he sighed, stroking the back of Dean’s head. “I believe you, baby. You can still spend time alone with your friend, I won't keep you two apart.” 

Dean squirmed and slicked up with gratitude and joy, his silky walls flexing around John’s fingers as his slutty fluids splattered down onto the doorstep. Benny visibly relaxed in relief, and when John met his eyes, he looked back. Neither of them were posturing; just reaching an understanding.

John wasn't dumb or blind. He could tell from both the dinner that the Winchesters had shared with Benny and from now that the young man cared about Dean as more than just a slutty cocksleeve. That was more than John could say about most of the people that he knew, which wasn't something that he was happy about. 

He and Mary had been quite social back in their heyday: Saturday brunches with friends, dinner parties, weeknight happy hours… the works. Things had changed after Mary had given birth to Dean, though. The number of their acquaintances and so-called friends that had neglected to so much as smile at their sweet little boy – treating him as more of an animal or an object than a child – had been almost as disturbing as the number that had thought that he and Mary would grant them permission to use little Dean’s tiny pink omega hole before he even came into his slick. And then, after Mary had died… Well. 

John couldn't protect Dean from how he was treated out in the world, but he could make his omega son’s home a safe place where he could be certain to be loved and seen as the sweet boy that he was. John could count on one hand the number of people that, meeting that requirement, were suitable to bring into his home, and Benny seemed to be one of them.

"You're a good kid," John told Benny. "Treat my son well and don't pull this shit again."

"Of course not, sir," Benny agreed.

“Thank you, Daddy,” Dean breathed, his cunt happily sucking on his father’s fingers. John stroked his back and kissed his hair.

“Of course. But you did break the rules, sweetheart, and your curfew,” he added reluctantly. “You know what that means, right?”

Dean lowered his eyes and pouted, then buried his face into John’s neck to scent him while he clung tightly to his shirt.

“I know, Daddy. I gotta be punished.”

"Yes, you do. But not tonight, sweetheart; for now, let's just get you to bed."

—

When they returned to their house it was to find Sam sleeping in the big armchair in the living room, slumped over like he'd fallen asleep while peering out the window waiting for the Impala’s headlights to return. John set Dean down and let his eldest stumble and catch his balance, picking up his youngest instead.

“Mmm… Daddy?” Sam mumbled as he was lifted from the chair into his father’s arms. “Where’s Dean?”

“Your brother’s right here, Sammy,” John whispered, and Dean walked unsteadily over to them and took Sam’s hand in his own.

“Hi, Sammy,” he said, and Sam smiled and lifted Dean’s hand up to press Dean's palm flat against his face and nuzzle against it. “Sorry. Sorry I’m late.”

“Dean,” Sam sighed into his big brother's hand. “You smell all used up.”

“Yeah. M-my hole got used a lot today.”

John carried the sleepy Sammy up the stairs. He made Dean walk in front of him, ready to catch his omega son if needed as Dean carefully wobbled up the staircase with his hand firmly clenched around the railing.

John brought his boys into the bathroom where he oversaw them brushing their teeth. Sam tiredly fingered his brother’s loose cunt while Dean finished cleaning out his mouth with mouthwash.

“Let me see,” John said, and Dean hesitantly breathed into his father’s face. The scent of cum, Benny, and fruity flavoring was gone. John nodded approvingly and gave his son a wet kiss, tongue running soothingly over Dean’s sweetly parted lips. 

He got a little carried away; the stress and fear from earlier in the night had caught up with him, and the relief of having his precious son right there in his hands made him hungry for Dean. What was meant to be a brief kiss lasted for many long moments; John gently pulled his son forward until Dean was straddling his thigh, gasping shallowly as John cupped his soft, flushed face in both of his big, rough hands and tasted every inch of his omega’s mouth. John pulled back for just a moment to see Dean’s unfocused green eyes looking at him dazedly from beneath those beautiful long eyelashes. He brushed his thumbs across the smattering of freckles on the boy’s cheeks, and then rushed back in to nip and suck at that luscious lower lip.

“Dad, I’m tired,” Sam said, rubbing his squinting eyes with one arm and tugging on his father’s shirt with his other hand, breaking John from his reverie.

“Right,” John said, pulling away from Dean. Dean was blushing and panting, and John was a bit breathless himself. He felt a warm, wet twitch against his clothed knee and looked down to see that, in his passion, he'd shoved it up between his son’s legs.

With reverence, John lowered his hands from Dean’s face to the boy’s slim hips and gently pulled them down harder onto his bent knee. Dean made a little noise in his chest and lowered his hands to John’s thigh to steady himself, biting his swollen lip. His penis and balls were resting on John’s leg, soft and vulnerable, but John could feel the mouth of Dean’s omega hole gaping around the bluntness of his kneecap, spreading somehow further open as John pulled Dean’s body down onto it.

“Unh, Dad,” Dean quietly moaned.

“You're so open, sweetheart,” John groaned. He could feel himself getting hard, his cock aching against the constraint of his jeans. He used his grip on Dean’s hips to grind the boy’s slick gape in tight circles down onto his knee, almost in a haze, wondering how far he could open Dean up like this. His fingers dug into the boy's butt and between his legs, pulling him even more open.

“Mmh, mmm, unhh... Daddy…” Dean’s stomach rolled and he swayed as John maneuvered him around on his knee. He was struggling to maintain balance with all of his weight put onto that hot, slick point of contact; Dean’s maybe-drunk, definitely-addled brain was finding the tiny movements to be as intense as a bucking bull, but he was doing his best for his Alpha. Always such a good boy.

“Can you feel me inside you?” John asked, leaning forward and murmuring the words into his son’s ear. His knee wasn't fully inside his son, not at all, but the force of gravity and of him gently pulling Dean harder and harder down onto him was making his son’s slack cunt spread wider and wider, wrapping his knee in warmth and wetness that felt so fucking erotic that John’s hips stuttered forward.

“Y-yeah,” Dean whimpered. “Your jeans are rubbing on m-my insides.”

“Fuck. Yeah, baby? Does it feel good?”

Dean tipped forward and his forehead settled onto John’s right shoulder, his hand shooting out to grasp the other shoulder for stability.

“Ah, It's. Unnh. It's rough. Feels rough.”

The walls of his cunt fluttered wetly against John's kneecap and when he pulled down on Dean’s hips again, he felt his son sink somehow deeper, stretch somehow wider around him. John groaned, helpless against his son’s seduction.

“God, baby, your body is so fucking slutty,” John breathed. “I love you so much, sweetheart, you know that? I was so scared tonight when I couldn’t find you. I thought I’d lost you, Dean.”

“Sorry. Sorry, sorry, sorry…” Dean whimpered an endless stream of apologies into his father’s shoulder as John continued to grind his open cunt down and down onto his knee.

“It's okay, baby, it's okay… ‘Cause you're here now, you're home with me and Sammy and I’m gonna take care of you…”

Dean keened as John rocked his knee, rubbing it up into the boy’s sensitive inner walls at the same time that he pulled Dean’s hips down onto him just a little bit further…

“Daaad,” Sam whined, and John was once more broken from his trance by Sam’s impatient hand tugging on his shirt. “Can I go to bed?”

John took a moment to collect himself. He could feel his cock pressed painfully against the fly of his jeans, a flush in his cheeks and sweat beginning to dampen his forehead and under his arms. Dean was in a similar state when John helped him to sit upright, cheeks red and hair plastered to his forehead.

“Of course, Sammy,” John said. “C’mon, Dean, up you go…”

He helped Dean to dismount his leg. Biting his lip, John felt his dick twitch painfully as he watched the thick strings of slick connecting his son’s swollen cunt to his soaked knee stretch and break between them. He reached out to cup his hand between Dean’s shaky legs and felt that the hole was sloppy-wet, open, and hot to the touch against his fingers.

In response, Dean reached out with his own hand and clumsily cupped John’s erection through his jeans, which made John moan. After allowing his son to rub his palm up and down his clothed length for a few seconds, John pushed Dean’s hand away before affectionately ruffling his sweat-damp hair.

“In a minute, Dean. Let's get your brother to bed first.”

He walked Sam and Dean to their bedroom, both boys clinging to his hands and making his heart swell with affection. Dean came with him to tuck Sam into his bed.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” John said to his youngest, pulling up the covers and pressing a chaste kiss to the young alpha’s forehead.

“‘Night, Sammy,” Dean followed, bending down to kiss his brother on the lips. Sam tiredly returned the kiss, reaching up to grab onto Dean’s hair and keep him still so that he could lick into Dean’s mouth. The omega let his little brother explore his mouth for a moment, the young alpha doing a clumsy job. Sam wasn't old enough to enjoy kissing with tongue yet, but he’d started to do it with Dean sometimes because he wanted to kiss him like John did.

“That's enough, Sammy,” John chuckled, pulling them apart. “It’s time for you to go to bed.”

Sam sighed and relaxed back onto his pillow, licking his wet lips.

“You gonna fuck Dean in your big bed?” he asked tiredly, rubbing his eyes.

“Yeah, Dean’s gonna sleep with me tonight. Don't wanna keep you up.”

“Okay. G’night. Love you. Love you, Dean.”

“Love you too, Sammy,” Dean said softly in response while John tucked Sam’s blanket up under his chin.

John walked to his bedroom at the end of the hall with his hand resting in Dean’s soft blond hair. Dean leaned against him the whole way there, eyelids heavy and legs wobbly. When they reached John’s room, Dean climbed gratefully up onto the bed while John quickly shucked first his jeans, then his shirt. He let out a huge sigh of relief when his aching cock was freed of its confines and was allowed to spring up; it bobbed in front of him as he stepped towards the bed and his son’s waiting holes.

“Show me,” John said, and Dean obediently spread his legs widely, revealing the slick pink mess between them. John reached forward and trailed his fingers through the wet smears that coated the boy’s inner thighs where he’d been dripping all over himself during the walk from the bathroom. “How many alphas used this slutty hole today, baby?”

“I dunno,” Dean whispered as his Alpha began to play with his loose hole, gently pinching and plucking at the swollen, pouting rim. “Usually. Um. At least forty at school on Fridays. And then. At the party. Maybe, um, maybe ten.”

“Yeah? Were they high school boys, at the party?” John shallowly stirred up Dean’s well-used insides with his fingers, idly folding them through Dean’s hot, slick hole like he was mixing cake batter.

Dean nodded. “They go to school with Benny.”

“Thought so. This little cunt is sloppy, Dean. So fucking messy. No middle school alpha can stretch you out like this.”

Hesitantly, Dean bit his lip and looked up at John from underneath his lashes. “They pulled their knots out early. But. They spanked my hole to make it get tight again.”

“They spanked your slutty little hole?” John tenderly stroked his thumbs around the swollen rim, fingers still twisting inside. “Then how’d you get so loose again, baby?”

“Benny. He's. He's real big.”

John couldn’t help but chuckle at the embarrassed flush that further reddened Dean’s cheeks. “Benny’s real big, huh? Is he bigger than your old man?” 

Dean bit his lip and looked away, and he was so much the very picture of Mary when she used to be reluctant to tell him something lest she hurt his feelings that John let out a full belly-laugh.

“C'mon, Deano, look at me. You think I'll get mad if your friend has a bigger cock than I do? What kind of alpha do you think I am?”

Tucking his chin into his shoulder, Dean darted his eyes back to meet his father’s and shrugged sheepishly.

“Yeah. He’s bigger ‘n you.”

John leaned down, fingers edging deeper into Dean’s cunt as he kissed Dean again. Dean parted his lips willingly for him and John gladly licked between them, tongue running over his son’s teeth, before pulling away.

“Bigger than me, huh?” He smiled softly and tenderly brushed the soft blond hair out of his son’s face, stroked the curve of his son’s cheek with his thumb. “I’m glad your friend can really feed your hungry little hole the way it needs.” He teasingly wiggled his fingers inside Dean’s roomy cunt until Dean huffed out a soft, helpless laugh. “Plus, it just gives me more room to play.”

John took both of his son’s spread thighs in hand and pulled Dean forward until his hips were just at the edge of the bed. After admiring the glistening pinkness of his son’s gaping cunt, John carefully pushed Dean’s thighs up until they were pressed together against his chest. In this position, Dean was folded in half, his little penis and balls hidden between his thighs and his tummy, and his stretched hole as tight as it could possibly be in its present state.

“Hold on to your knees, kiddo,” John said, and Dean obediently wrapped his arms around them and tensed his muscles, clenching his hole for his Alpha and squirting out a thick blurt of slick. “That's my good boy.”

Taking his erection in hand, John slowly rubbed the hot, flushed head of his cock around the slippery mess between Dean’s legs. Dean was so open that John didn't even have to press inside to feel that silky internal flesh against his cock; with his free hand he used his thumb and forefinger to open and spread it out, watching the pink inner walls shiver and blossom between the L of his fingers. He dragged his cockhead over that glistening flesh, marking it with his pre-cum.

“Fuck,” John murmured, unbelievably turned on by the sight of his son’s insides twitching and flaring in his hand. “You’re so fucking wrecked, sweetheart. You're gonna feel so good around me.”

He didn't look up at Dean’s face, instead focusing on the drooling cunt in front of him. John eased his cock in towards where Dean’s blown-open entrance funneled into a tighter sleeve, thanks to his well-trained inner muscles which worked to squeeze and clench and please the cocks inside it even when the rim was too stretched and worn-out to assist. 

Dean was tired and he’d taken so many cocks that day, so that clenching tunnel didn't squeeze quite as hard around John’s cock as it usually did. John didn't mind, though; sometimes a loose fuck was just what he was in the mood for, and the sloppy hole was hot and wet enough that finally sinking fully into that slick embrace made him see stars.

“Mmm,” John sighed, allowing his eyes to fall closed as he savored the feeling of a needy hole quivering around him. He pulled his hips back and then slid them forward, gliding through the worn-out hole effortlessly and feeling the pleasurable sensation begin to build in his gut. “Fuck, yeah. Fuck…”

He began to pump his hips in earnest, repositioning his hands to settle onto Dean’s folded arms, helping Dean to press his knees harder against his chest, to squeeze his legs closer together. The sound of his heavy balls smacking against the omega’s ass was loud in the room, as was the squishing sound of his cock plunging in and out of the well-used hole.

“Sloppy little hole,” John managed to grunt between thrusts, sweat dripping from his forehead. “God, baby, you're so fucked out… But I’ve got you, now. Daddy’s got you. Your slutty body feels so good, Dean... Your messy little fuckhole's gonna make me come...”

Dean keened and squeezed down around John’s cock, his whole body shuddering.

“Daddy,” Dean exhaled; a whine or a moan, John couldn’t be sure, but it pushed him over the edge. With a groan, he eased his growing knot past the young omega’s slack entrance to nestle in the slick embrace of the boy’s undulating inner walls. 

John allowed himself to slump heavily forward as his knot swelled fully, reveling in the bright crescendo of his orgasm as his balls tightened and cum began to fill the hole beneath him. He caught his breath, sweat glistening on his skin, feeling alive with warmth and pleasure. The release of his climax settled pleasantly in his cock as it pulsed inside his favorite little omega hole.

After many long, languid moments of deep breaths and lazy grinds of his knot inside the tied cunt, John propped himself up onto his hands and looked down.

With the hot, heavy weight of his father finally lifted from his body, Dean sucked in a desperate breath and then coughed wetly. John chuckled affectionately and unfolded his son’s legs, letting them splay widely around his hips and then rubbing gentle circles onto Dean’s chest as the boy caught his own breath.

“That was great, Dean. You did good.” He leaned down to kiss Dean’s cheek before hitching his son’s legs around his waist and lifting him up off the bed with his cock still planted firmly inside him. “You sleepy?”

Dean nodded and John turned to sit onto the soft mattress, scooting back until he could swing his legs up and lean back to rest his head onto his pillows without Dean’s cunt yanking on his knot too much. When John was settled comfortably, he rearranged his son’s legs and brought Dean’s head to nestle under his chin. 

He planted a brief kiss to his son’s tousled hair and smoothed his big hands down the valleys of Dean's ribs and the knobs of his spine to softly cup the swell of the boy’s ass. One thumb idly stroked the soft skin of one cheek, his middle finger absent-mindedly circling the rare-used furl of Dean’s tight asshole. His other hand went lower, thoughtfully adjusting the position of his son’s still-soft penis and testicles so that they weren’t pulled and squished uncomfortably between their bodies.

“Want you to keep me warm tonight, okay, sweetheart?” John said. It wasn't often that John had Dean warm his cock all night long, but he needed it tonight. He needed to be inside his son for as long as he could.

“Okay, Daddy,” Dean said, voice heavy with sleep. John could feel his sweet breaths ghosting warmly against his shoulder. “Was I good?”

“You were the best. I love you, baby. Sweet dreams.”

Chapter 22: Picnic Lunch

“Do you know where the ice packs are, Sammy?” John called as he rifled through the freezer. He could hear Sam’s feet patter along the hardwood floor and then the linoleum as the little alpha raced through the hall into the kitchen.

“Yeah!” Sam said, and came up beside John to reach down and pull out a cardboard box of rocket pops. When he poured out the box, instead of popsicles came out two soft-shell ice packs. “I put them in there so they'd be easy to find.”

John didn't bother to inform Sam that it had actually made it quite a bit harder; instead he merely rolled his eyes and ruffled his son’s hair.

“Thanks, Sammy. Why don't you go put these in the picnic basket?”

Eyes wide with awe at the responsibility, Sam took the ice packs and walked over to the kitchen table, upon which lay their picnic basket. Trembling slightly in anticipation, its pink hole was prepped, open and glistening. 

Earlier that week, John had promised his kids another Saturday visit to the park. However, with Dean needing to be punished for his lying and disobedience the previous night, John had been in a predicament: it was unsafe to bring Dean out into the sun and heat for extended lengths of time while he was encased in his punishment bondage, but canceling the outing would have meant punishing Sam as well. 

As a compromise, John would be taking Sam to the park after all, but Dean wouldn't be joining them. Not mentally, anyway; he would be ear-plugged and blindfolded to give him some time to think about his disobedience while they used his slutty little body as a picnic basket.

So, there Dean was; tied up into a ball on the dining table, his arms comfortably crossed over his chest and his legs folded with his knees up at his shoulders, hemp rope crossing over and dimpling his soft skin in a wicker-like pattern and a padded handle tied into the full-body harness for portability. He was quiet and calm, taking his punishment obediently, wearing his noise-canceling earbuds and blindfold and gagged with only a narrow silicone bit. He could still easily make noises around it, which was important; he needed to be able to vocalize his signal to indicate distress if needed, since his hole would be otherwise occupied.

As John watched, Sam carefully slipped the ice packs into Dean’s omega hole one by one, sliding his arm all the way in to press the ice packs right to the very end of the slick tunnel. A whine erupted from Dean’s chest and he wiggled at the temperature, abs tensing.

“I dunno if Dean likes that,” Sam said, cheeks flushed as he stared at his big brother’s half-covered and gagged face.

“Sammy, you have to remember; he’s lost his people privileges for the day. He’s not Dean right now, he’s our picnic basket. Do picnic baskets ‘like’ things?”

Sam shook his head. “I guess not.”

John reached out and set his hand over the soft expanse of Dean’s stomach. There was no rope crossing over it, ensuring room for it to expand as they filled it up with food and drink (John was appreciative of the inflation trainer for it allowing them to do this safely). The cold from the ice packs could be felt through Dean's soft layer of belly fat; the ice packs would help to keep their little basket from overheating when they were out in the sun, but for now – inside with the air conditioning – he was starting to shiver.

“It might be uncomfortable, but that's part of Dean’s punishment,” John said. “He’s getting this time-out to reflect on his actions and think about what he's done. In the meantime, you get to hang out with your old man today! How's that, Sammy?”

Sam seemed to really turn the question over in his head before shrugging. “I guess that's okay.” John mimed taking a knife to his heart, and his alpha son laughed. “I'm just kidding, Dad!”

“You better be,” John joked.

With the ice packs in place, John went ahead and loaded their drinks into the helpless little cunt. He had a carton of apple juice for Sam and two cans of chilled beer. They slipped easily through the slightly narrower tunnel of Dean’s pelvic bone to settle up against the back of the chilled hole, making Dean’s stomach start to bulge.

The omega’s tiny pink cunt was being held incredibly wide open with the special hole spreaders that John used occasionally: curved metal hooks – flat and with polished, rounded edges for safety and comfort – the tail ends of which were clipped into place at the rope binding Dean’s upper thighs so that when his legs were spread, the spreaders opened the omega hole widely and were tension-held in place. With how much training the slutty little cunt had been getting recently, the spreaders were able to open it much further than ever before. In fact, the gaping entrance was so wide that John could almost slide his fist in without his knuckles brushing the twitching rim. Almost.

“Here, Sammy, why don't I hand you the rest of the food and you can load it up?”

Sam seemed happy with his task, taking each item that John handed him and carefully inserting it into the glistening tunnel between his brother’s spread legs. John had taken care to package everything up that morning to keep the food dry. Some of it – like the carrot and celery sticks and the cherry tomatoes – were just sealed up in Ziploc bags, while the more brittle and fragile snacks were in little plastic containers that were small enough to fit. Trying to pack the food through the initial few inches was tricky, but Sam didn't have any issues once he'd maneuvered the items past the pelvis and into the roomier, stretchier section that was in Dean's belly.

“Sandwiches go last, so they don't get squished,” John said, finally handing Sam the three turkey-and-cheese sandwiches that he'd wrapped up (one for Sam and two for him). He'd made them on six-inch ciabatta rolls. They were shorter than many of the cocks that Dean’s hole was used to – at least the adult ones – but about as thick as a small knot.

“Hmm,” Sam mused aloud, looking between the three sandwiches and the gaping pink opening in front of him. He set the sandwiches down and, with a hand closed into a fist, inserted his arm into the packed hole to carefully shove its contents as deep as they could go, creating a little more room. John could see the lumps shift and move underneath Dean’s soft belly as the young omega grunted, but Dean's hole was otherwise accommodating.

“It's good now,” Sam piped up with a nod, and then one by one he inserted the sandwiches until the last one was only-just poking out from the slick hole's widespread gape.

“Think we’re ready?” John asked. 

The two alphas both looked at the omega on the table. Dean was trussed up and stuffed like a Thanksgiving turkey, his belly crammed so full that it jutted out from between his folded-up legs like a pregnant belly. Well, a lumpy and misshapen pregnant belly. 

Dean was already drooling around his bit gag, wet streaks dripping down the side of his face from the corners of his mouth. The foil wrapping of the last sandwich crinkled slightly where it was poking out of his gaping cunt as its nervous walls flexed and spasmed around it; Dean was trying so hard to fight his conditioning and not to squeeze down around the sandwich. A tiny puddle of slick had already collected on the table underneath his stretched entrance.

Sam looked up at his father with a grin and nodded emphatically.

“Yeah, we’re ready!”

—

At the park, John and Sam had settled down away from most of the other people, spreading out their picnic blanket in the grass near the lake. John was starting on his second sandwich while Sam finished the last bite of his.

The two alphas had been enjoying their picnic, Sam chattering about what he was learning in school – the rings of Saturn were his current focus of interest – while John listened indulgently. Every once in a while, he had to reach out to shoo a fly or curious bee away from the slick pink opening of their shivering picnic basket. The bees, in particular, John was extra-attentive to: the sweet little hole was so open that one could buzz right inside, and even if Dean was nothing more than a storage container today, an internal bee sting was absolutely not a planned part of his punishment.

“Where’s the Goldfish?” Sam asked through a mouthful of chewed-up turkey and cheese, mayo smeared at the corners of his mouth.

“I put it in one of the little tupperware. One of the round ones. It's in there somewhere.”

With a nod, Sam swallowed and then caught his tongue between his teeth as he slipped his hand into Dean’s sizeable gape and began to feel around. When he couldn't find the container right away, he adjusted his position so that he could cram his skinny forearm in up to the elbow and more effectively rummage through the close-packed contents.

The stretched-taut rim of the stuffed hole was open enough that Sam’s hand hadn't even brushed against it on the way inside, but the slick tunnel just past it clenched instinctively around the searching arm. Sam didn't mind, though, and a moment later his face brightened.

“Aha!” the young alpha exclaimed and withdrew his arm with his hand grasped firmly around the small plastic container. The slide of it down through the slutty omega hole made its sucking walls spasm, and Dean made a little grunt through his gag when it was finally extricated.

Sam patted the gaping hole in thanks, resulting in a little squelch as the blown-out walls clenched down around nothing. John could see some of the lumps in Dean’s belly shift around as the rest of its contents settled.

“Hey!” a voice suddenly called from nearby. “Heel, Ozzie! Heel!”

John and Sam were both startled by the yelling – followed immediately by the sound of barking – and turned to find the source of the commotion. Dean, of course, didn’t hear the noise and so didn’t so much as flinch. At least, not until the off-leash bulldog that was racing towards the trio nearly slammed into the bound omega and began enthusiastically sniffing all over his sweet little body.

“Puppy!” Sam exclaimed with delight, forgetting his Goldfish in favor of getting up on his knees to pet the excited dog. The canine temporarily paused to turn its head and smile a sloppy canine smile at Sam before returning to what had called it there in the first place: the yummy-smelling omega on the picnic blanket that was being used as a food storage container.

Dean was whining through his gag and trembling at the unwelcome sensation of the bulky dog’s short fur and wrinkled skin rubbing against his naked side. As the dog’s wet nose dragged across his stuffed belly, Dean began wiggling as if trying to escape his bonds for the first time that day. 

John opted to allow the minor disobedience. Dean was afraid dogs, he had been ever since he was six or seven when the neighbor’s mutt had gotten into their backyard and nearly mounted him. John had been inside for just a few minutes getting a snack for Sammy, but had seen the dog jump the fence through the kitchen window. He'd luckily been able to get back out to Dean in time to stop anything from happening – thank God, because Dean's (at that age) dry little hole would have been wrecked – but Dean had been crying and scuffed up and bleeding a bit from where the dog’s nails had scratched his back. The boy had been nervous around dogs ever since. 

That neighbor’s dog had been a menace and had been put down a couple years after that incident for biting a little beta girl who lived down the street. The French bulldog that was currently licking all over Dean, on the other hand, was a friendly little guy; less than half Dean’s size, it didn't look like it could hurt the omega even if it tried.

“Sorry!” the bulldog’s owner called out as he jogged over to them. “He's friendly, I promise!”

Sam was petting the dog’s hindquarters and cooing over it – he’d been begging for a dog for years (‘We can even get a girl one! A girl dog won't try to fuck Dean!’ ) – while John allowed the dog to make its way to the opening of the frightened little cunt.

When the little French bulldog found the widespread mouth of Dean’s leaky hole, its stubby tail wagged furiously, making its rear end shake. The dog quickly began to sniff all around the slick entrance, clearly pleased by the smell. 

With the size of the omega’s gape, a different breed of dog might have been able to bury its snout straight inside and burrow deep into Dean’s hot, stuffed core. The squashed-up face of the little bulldog, however, could only snuffle messily and lick its long, wet tongue deep inside.

“Nnngh!” Dean whined through the gag, full lips trembling as his teeth clamped down on the silicone and he struggled to squirm away from the gentle nibbling teeth and invading tongue. Sam giggled.

“Silly dog, that’s not your lunch! Does it taste good, puppy?”

Dean was really starting to smell upset now, the tangy scent coming off of him in waves even as his little cock began to fill and his hole slicked up further from the dog’s clumsy ministrations. With the sensory deprivation and fear clouding Dean's mind, it was possible that Dean was too distressed to identify where his dad and little brother were by scent and was afraid that he was alone and unguarded while the dog assaulted him.

John hesitated, wanting to pull the dog away but knowing that a little of this kind of safe exposure was probably good for Dean. Exposure therapy; it could help him get past his irrational fear... and besides, he was being punished, after all. Still, for John, seeing his son in such a state of anxiety was a little painful.

The decision of whether or not to let the dog continue was made for John, thankfully, when he noticed that the bulldog’s sharp little cock was poking out of of its sheath and the chubby canine suddenly tried to set its paws up onto Dean’s full belly in an effort to rut into the boy’s open hole.

“That's enough,” John decided, reaching out to grab the dog’s collar and pulling it off of his omega. “I think you're a little too small for that hole right now, anyway.”

The dog’s owner had finally reached the picnic blanket and took his dog from John, a little embarrassed.

“Jesus, I'm sorry about that,” the beta man gasped, a little out of breath, as he caught up to his dog and began to clip the leash back into its collar. “He never does that, or I wouldn't let him off-leash.” His eyes fell upon the whimpering omega on the blanket, who was shaking with relief at the absence of the furry paws and glistening with the canine’s saliva. He watched with new interest as the walls of Dean’s channel flexed and shifted. “Guess he smelled something he wanted. Do you mind if…?”

John firmly shook his head and gently cupped his palm over his son’s gaping hole, effectively blocking it from view. At the feel of his father’s hand on his vulnerable cunt, Dean immediately relaxed back into his bonds.

“Sorry, this hole is in use right now. And I don't allow animal cocks in my omega. I'm sure you understand.”

“Dean’s a slut, not a bitch,” Sam added helpfully, regurgitating the age-appropriate explanation that John had always given for why he didn't permit dogs to use Dean’s omega hole. “I really like your dog. What's his name?”

“Oh, of course,” the man said quickly. “His name’s Ozzie.”

“Does he like to play catch? I've got a tennis ball!”

The man looked down at his little dog, who was tugging at its leash to try to get back at the covered omega hole with its red cock on full show.

“He does, but I really think we oughta keep walking. It's gonna upset him to be so close to a hole he can't mount.”

“Oh, okay.” Sam slumped in disappointment, and the man waved an awkward goodbye before dragging his dog away.

John removed his hand from over Dean’s slick entrance and wiped it off on the blanket before returning to his sandwich. Sam opened his Goldfish container and glumly poked through them.

After a minute of silence, and Sam slowly eating his snacks, the little alpha picked one up and looked at it thoughtfully before flicking it in a little arc to land just inside of Dean’s gaping tunnel. The inner walls of the slick pink hole twitched and shivered. Sam giggled and flicked another one in, and then another. A couple missed, but many of them hit their mark.

“Really, Sammy?” John asked, exasperated. Slick was welling up and dripping out over the lower rim of the open hole, and the stray Goldfish were starting to get mushy. Sam pouted.

“What?” he asked innocently.

“Clean that up. And use a wet wipe to clean off all that grime, too, while you're at it,” John told his son sternly, gesturing at the slimy saliva and smears of dirt that the little dog had left all over Dean’s bare skin.

Sam scowled and reached his hand out to scoop the soggy crackers out of his brother’s cunt and then tossed them away into the grass. Then he took the wet wipe that his dad was holding out to him – John always kept a pack in his jeans pocket – and began to clean the mess from his brother’s skin.

“It’s not fair,” Sam grumbled under his breath as he scrubbed at Dean's skin a bit more harshly than was strictly needed. “I never get to play with dogs just because they always wanna fuck Dean. Why do I gotta be punished for Dean being such a slut?”

Dean’s distress scent had tapered off – first with the absence of the animal and then with the feeling of his little brother’s touch – but he was beginning to smell anxious again thanks to the irritation clear in Sam’s rough treatment. He whimpered through his gag – a little sound of confused supplication – and flared the inner walls of his open cunt to apologize for whatever he'd done to upset his brother. But Sam ignored Dean's silent pleas.

“The dog made him slick up and everything. Look, he even got hard,” Sam pointed out; much louder this time, clearly giving up pretending that he didn't think that his dad could hear him. “I don't see why it's such a big deal.”

John sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Sam was a little too young to understand the nuances of how an omega’s hole should be used, and at times, it made him and John clash in ways that John found difficult to deal with. It was at times like this one that John wished that Mary was still alive. Maybe she'd know what to say.

“Look, Sam, it doesn't matter if Dean liked it. Dean’ll get slick for anything, you know how slutty his body is. His omega hole doesn't know any better. So, as his Alpha, it's my responsibility to decide what’s best for him when it comes to anyone other than an alpha using his hole.”

“Other Alphas let dogs use their omegas!”

“And they have a right to do that. I might not agree with it, but it's a free country.”

“Well, when I’m Dean’s Alpha, I'll have ten dogs and I'll let them fuck Dean all the time.” Sam scowled at Dean’s still semi-hard cock and then impulsively reached out to smack it, making Dean flinch and yelp.

“Sam!” John said sharply, immediately reaching out to grab his son’s wrist and tug him away. “It’s not okay to hit your brother! Don't you take your frustration at me out on him!”

“I thought he wasn't my brother today?” Sam retorted insolently. “Just our picnic basket?” 

Raising his eyebrow, John gave his son an unimpressed look. “The rules apply whether or not Dean has his people privileges. And even if they didn’t, it’s not okay to hit your things, either. I expect you to treat your belongings with respect.”

Chagrined, Sam wilted. “I know. I’m sorry, okay?”

John sighed and released Sam’s arm. “Go play with your ball to cool off. No dessert tonight, you got that?”

A flicker of indignation crossed Sam’s face and he opened his mouth to object, but then he thought better of it at his father’s expression.

“Fine.”

John watched Sam get up with a huff and get his tennis ball from the blanket where it had rolled to settle by Dean’s ribs. The little alpha stalked off a ways away from the lake. A low stone wall lined a section of the paved walking path, and Sam began to throw the ball to himself there, bouncing it off of the wall to catch it on the rebound.

Dean, meanwhile, was shaking and whining helplessly on the blanket; he was clearly concerned and wanting to know how to fix whatever he'd done to make Sam mad. John reached out and brushed his thumb against Dean’s scent gland to soothe him, then moved his hand up to settle on the top of Dean's head. 

“Sometimes I just don't know what to do with that boy,” John spoke aloud to himself, idly stroking his omega’s honey-dark hair. He could feel Dean straining to be a good picnic basket and to not nuzzle into his father’s hand like a boy would. After a few moments he was successful at restraining himself, and the young omega settled back into his role and went still, body and hole relaxing with a sigh.

For a while, John alternated between watching Sam morosely playing with his tennis ball and watching the ducks floating along the surface of the lake. Occasionally, he reached into Dean's needy hole for a snack, just to reassure his son that he hadn't left.

Suddenly, John noticed a little girl run up to Sam from across the grass. Sam stopped throwing his ball to watch the girl as she stopped confidently in front of him and opened her mouth to talk. She gestured behind her towards the youth basketball court that was near the playground. A man in work-worn jeans – undoubtedly her father – was jogging towards them, trying to catch up with his daughter.

Sam and the girl chatted energetically for a moment, and then Sam gestured for her to follow as he turned and ran back towards John and the picnic basket.

“Dad! This is Jo! Can we go play Horse? She has a basketball!”

The little girl, who was wearing the kind of boyish clothes that Dean liked and had her shoulder-length blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, jerked her thumb over her shoulder to point at her father.

“My dad’s old,” she said bluntly. “He says he's too tired to play anymore.”

The man in question had nearly caught up with his daughter, looking out-of-breath and a little embarrassed as he made his way across the grass with a basketball under his arm.

“Sure, Sammy,” John nodded at his son. “Just stay in the court where I can see you, okay?”

The girl cocked her head and pointed down at the leaking omega hole that was resting on the blanket.

“What about him? He can play too, if he wants.”

John smiled at the girl’s thoughtfulness. He knew that if Dean could hear, he would have appreciated being included.

“Not today, unfortunately. He's being punished right now. I'm sure he'll love to next time.”

The little girl shrugged, and she and Sam turned around to race back to the basketball court just as her father finally caught up. The girl grabbed her basketball from her father with a short “Seeya, Dad!”, leaving the man standing, bemused, in the grass.

John chuckled and shook his head.

“Kids. Can never keep up with them, huh?” he asked, and the other man shook his head.

“Tell me about it. Feel like I've been up for days. Mind if I…?” he gestured down at the grass beside John’s blanket and – at John’s nod – sat heavily and leaned back onto his hands, tilting his face up to the sun and letting out a big sigh.

“Anyway,” the other man said finally after a few moments of silent breathing. “Thanks for letting your son play with my daughter. She's been running me ragged.”

John waved his hand. “Might as well thank you for letting your daughter play with my son.”

The man smiled and shook his head. “Parenting, am I right?” At John’s agreeable laugh, he reached over to hold out his hand. “Name’s Bill.”

John took the offered hand and gave it a firm shake. “John.”

“Well, nice to meet another hands-on dad here, John. Hope your wife appreciates it as much as mine does.”

The familiar strike of grief sparked in John’s gut, but he tamped it down and offered a polite smile.

“She did. She passed away a few years ago. When my youngest was a baby.”

Bill looked rightly uncomfortable, but he didn’t make a show of it. Just offered a sympathetic expression.

“Sorry to hear that.”

John shrugged. “Me too. I loved her; wish she was still around, most days. But she left me with some great boys.” He forced himself to cheer up and pointed towards the basketball court and then down at the stuffed hole beside him. “That’s Sam playing with your girl, and this here’s Dean.” 

“Dean, huh? Nice to meetcha, kid.” Bill nodded at the bound and spread omega on the blanket and then lowered his voice, leaning over as if to speak so that Dean couldn't hear. “Little guy get in trouble for something, huh? What'd he do?”

John rolled his eyes and nodded heavily. “Broke curfew last night to go to a party. And he can’t hear you, by the way; he’s got his earbuds in.”

“Oh,” Bill laughed, and then spoke again much louder. “Broke curfew? That'll do it. Not looking forward to the terrible tweens with Jo.” He nodded towards his daughter, who was fiercely throwing her basketball at the net from center court. “Figured an omega would be better behaved, but I guess kids’ll be kids.”

John examined Bill’s face appraisingly, searching for any sign that the beta man was mocking Dean by equating him to other kids, but Bill’s expression looked open and genuine. 

“I guess,” John finally replied. “He's normally such a good boy for me, though.” He sighed and thumbed at the lower rim of Dean’s spread hole, which was steadily dripping down onto the growing wet spot on the blanket. “Hopefully spending the day as our picnic basket will help discourage any more teenage shenanigans.”

“Ah, I see. A picnic basket, huh?” Bill winked playfully. “Looks like a nice one. What’s the capacity on that thing?”

John fondly patted Dean’s stuffed belly. “Just about five liters, give or take, if I really fill it up.”

Other than the dog jumping on him, Sam’s aggressive cleaning, and John petting his hair a little earlier, Dean hadn’t really been touched all day other than the hands rummaging through his packed insides for food. The unexpected feeling of John’s hand patting his bulging tummy drew a little surprised noise from his chest – like a cat’s chirp – and he startled and curled his toes. John felt the corners of his eyes soften with affection.

“Five liters?” Bill let out an impressed whistle. “That's nice. My lunch cooler only holds four. Does it keep things cool, or is it just for storage?”

John chuckled. “Got a couple ice packs in there. But it does tend to run hot, so I'm not expecting them to last.”

“Yeah? Got anything in there better served cold?”

“You fishing for a beer?” John asked wryly, and Bill grinned.

“Always.”

John chuckled and then reached his arm into Dean’s slick gape. He had to shift around what was still in there to reach the two cans of beer that he'd tucked right at the back. The ice packs were nearly lukewarm by now, but the silky internal flesh of Dean’s omega hole around them was chilled and the cans themselves were still mercifully cold. John closed his hand around the first one, drawing a tiny “Nngh!” up from between Dean’s gagged lips.

John pulled one beer out first, then the other, his big hand around the cans finding the entrance to Dean’s hole somewhat tight to exit despite how widely it was spread. He managed both times with a determined tug, extricating can and fist with a loud sucking pop and a low grunt from Dean. 

John wiped both beers off on the blanket by Dean’s hip and handed one over to Bill. Bill took it appreciatively and popped the tab with one finger, holding it out for John to knock against his own.

“Cheers,” Bill said, and they both drank.

The two men chatted leisurely for a while while their kids played basketball. John was pleased to find himself enjoying the conversation; like Dean, John hadn't made many new friends of his own since Mary had died. There was Bobby Singer, who he’d met by chance while searching online for a rare part to fix up a vintage muscle car, but Bobby lived six hours away and there was only so much socializing that John knew how to do over the phone. He wasn't like Dean, who could spend – it seemed – hours a day on his phone texting Benny about anything at all.

Bill, it turned out, had recently moved to just outside of Lawrence with his wife and daughter to reopen an old local bar after their family business – a roadhouse – had burned down.

“Kinda hard moving to a new place when you're our age,” Bill said, shrugging. “Trying to build a new life in a new state. Meet new people. Gotta admit, I felt a little relieved when I saw you over here. The wife’s been trying to get me to socialize with some of the dads of Jo's new classmates, but I can't stand more than a couple minutes around those yuppies.”

John nodded. “I get it. Same here. And I don't feel comfortable rubbing shoulders with the kinds of guys who treat my omega like he’s just some sort of brainless toy, and in this area that's unfortunately hard to avoid.” He looked sideways at Bill. “Hard to stomach a beer with a man who thinks I'm a kook just for liking my omega’s balls and wanting to keep them where they are, y’know?”

Bill nodded and glanced down at Dean, who was a little tense with the scent of a strange man in such close proximity. Dean’s cock was staying persistently half-hard, his little balls drawn up tight out of the way of the stretched rim of his open hole.

“That sounds tough,” Bill said. “Way I was raised, what an Alpha does with his own omega’s body is his prerogative. None of my damn business.” Bill grinned and nudged the young boy’s bound body, making Dean squeak and his little hole clench. “And besides, this little guy is so cute with those things. I can't imagine wanting to see them gone.” 

“Yeah,” John said, a little relieved that they were both in agreement on this front. He was enjoying the conversation, but John wasn’t about to make buddies with a man who didn’t agree with how he treated his omega. “Folks are a bit better about it the closer you get to Wichita, but housing’s so damn expensive and I can't afford to move my business. And then if you get too close to the city, you're liable to run into the real kooks. You know. The kinds who claim to be all for ‘omega welfare’ but don't know the first damn thing about properly caring for an omega as slutty as Dean is.”

Bill shook his head. “Can't people just let you care for your own? It's the same with Jo. Probably don't get it as much as you get with Dean, but I get the side eye all the time from yuppies for letting Jo wear boy clothes and play sports. Like civilization’s about to come down around our ears just ‘cause I don't make my daughter act ‘ladylike’. Wait ‘til they learn I’m teachin’ her how to hunt.”

“Here’s to being the ones who know best how to raise our own goddamn kids,” John said, and they both knocked their cans together and then finished off the last of their beer.

Bill let out a hearty belch and then clapped his hands down onto his thighs. “Well, listen, John… I’m not sure how to say this without sounding like a blushing schoolgirl, but can I give you my number?”

“Sure. Yeah, text me sometime and we can hang out.” John actually felt his cheeks heat up a bit and rubbed the back of his head. “Damn, that does sound weird, doesn't it? We’re too old for this shit.”

He gave Bill his number and then the two men set about tidying up. Bill looked around for somewhere to toss the empty beer cans and the crumpled foil and empty plastic bags from Sam and John’s picnic.

“You can throw the trash in there for now,” John said, nodding towards Dean’s slickly fluttering hole. “I’ll toss it in the trash can over by the basketball court while we swing by for the kids.”

“You don't mind if I touch it?” Bill asked, and John shook his head with a smile.

“Any friend of mine,” he told Bill graciously, and Bill grinned in response.

—

When they got to the basketball court, Sam and Jo both whined their disappointment.

“One more game!” Jo begged her father, and Sam turned his puppy-dog eyes on John to do the same.

“Just one more,” Bill warned. “We've gotta swing by the pharmacy before we go home.”

Excited, the two young kids ran back to the basketball hoop. Bill laid the folded picnic blanket that he’d been carrying for John out on one of the nearby picnic tables so that John could set Dean down on top of it.

“I feel a little bad,” John admitted as he began to pull the trash out of Dean’s cunt to throw away in the nearby can. “It's been a long day. Dean’s probably pretty hungry… For food and for cocks.”

“He's a slutty little guy, huh?” Bill said. “You mentioned before. Well, if you need to feed his hole, I don't mind.”

As if on cue, Dean’s belly rumbled loudly and the young boy’s freshly-empty hole squelched as it clenched in response. The two men laughed, and John reached out to rub circles onto his son’s stomach. 

Bill seemed like an alright guy. A father like John was, who spent time with his kid; libertarian-leaning perspectives on parenting; and he'd been talking about Dean like he was John’s son instead of just John's sex toy, which meant a lot. John didn't want to come on too strong – whatever that meant when you were talking about making friends with other grown men – but the fact of the matter was that, just like Dean, John got lonely sometimes. He wanted to be friends with Bill. Wanted to do the kinds of things that male friends did together.

So, giving his son’s belly a gentle pat, John hesitated before replying.

“You interested in helping me feed his hungry little holes?” At Bill's surprised expression, John added, “You don't have to feel obligated.”

“No, it's not that,” Bill said, waving his hand. “I just… Well, I don't usually ask is all. But I’d appreciate it. If you're offering.”

Feeling a little relieved, John grinned.

“Of course. It would be a big help, anyway; If you take his cunt, I can take his mouth. Feeding him some cum should help tide him over until we get home and I can give him a snack.”

Bill helped John reposition Dean to the edge of the table where his cunt could be easily accessed on one end, his face on the other. Bill gazed down at the boy’s open hole with fascination; he'd been too polite to stare earlier, but now with John’s permission he clearly felt comfortable showing his interest. The man opened his pants to pull out his semi-hard cock and then dragged his hand across the slick opening – Dean shuddered at the feeling of the stranger’s touch – coating his palm with slick that he then used to stroke himself to full hardness.

“Here, let me get rid of that spreader for you. Make it a little tighter.”

John carefully unclipped the spreader hooks from the thigh harness and removed them from his son’s cunt. Dean’s hole shrank immediately, contracting significantly from the previously fist-sized gape but still staying soft and open. Dean let out a deep sigh as his rim was allowed to relax, his inner walls fluttering as they slicked up in relief.

John tenderly inserted some fingers and pumped them a few times before reaching in further to pull the thawed ice packs out of the clutching depths of the loose hole. Dean’s insides were still chilly, but Bill’s cock would help to warm them up.

“Alright, Dean,” John said softly, even though Dean couldn’t hear him, as he moved around to where Dean’s head lay and unclipped the bit gag next. Dean gladly let him remove the silicone from between his teeth and then licked his lips.

“Daddy?” Dean whispered hoarsely after a moment. “Am I done?”

In answer, John took his son’s face between both hands and bent over to kiss him silent.

“Mmh,” Dean hummed, hesitating only momentarily before willingly parting his lips for his father’s tongue. John glanced up and gestured Bill towards Dean’s hole, and at the invitation, John’s new friend took his erect cock in hand and slid it into the young boy’s waiting entrance.

“Ahh!” Dean gasped into his father’s mouth as the beta man’s cock slid effortlessly into the slackened grip of his worn-out hole. John pulled away, watching Dean tilt his head back to try to chase his father's mouth with his full lips parted uncertainly. John raked his eyes up across Dean’s bound body and over his soft, flattened stomach to where Bill’s hips were pressed flush between Dean’s legs.

“How does it feel?” John asked, and Bill nodded appreciatively.

“Feels good. A little cold, but it's squeezing down around me.”

John patted Dean’s cheek and then gave him another brief kiss. “That's my good boy.”

Dean made a little grunt as he struggled to keep his core muscles engaged despite how stretched out they'd been forced to be all day. Bill braced himself gently with his big hands on the young boy’s folded legs and then began to thrust, sloppy noises escaping unavoidably from around his cock due to how open Dean still was deep inside.

“Uhn, uhn, uhn,” Dean panted, open-mouthed, each thrust from the stranger’s cock undoubtedly sending a bright burst of pleasure to his cock-starved brain after the long day of time-out. His little cock began to fill further and slick blurted out from his hole onto the table with each smooth plunge.

“Do you have enough room to shift him forward?” John asked, hands still cupping his son’s sweet, blindfolded face. His thumbs slid in past Dean’s teeth to stretch open his jaw. Bill paused in his thrusting and readjusted himself.

“Yeah, I think so.”

John grabbed the blanket underneath Dean’s body and pulled it, sliding Dean towards him on the tabletop until he could tilt the boy’s head slightly back off of the edge of the table. When done, Bill resumed pounding into the hungry little hole while Dean hesitantly opened his mouth, anticipating his Alpha’s wants.

“Smart kid,” Bill commented as he watched Dean loll out his tongue to cover his lower teeth, mouth gaping wide and ready. “You must be really proud.”

“I am,” John said, taking his own cock in hand and guiding the flushed head to his son’s mouth. He traced it around the ring of Dean’s full lips, coating them in pre-cum, preparing his son for what he was about to do. He’d never put his cock in Dean’s mouth before, but the smell of cum that'd been on Dean’s breath last night made him want to so badly. He wanted Dean to know the taste of his father’s cum better than the cum of some random betas.

After a few seconds of teasing, Dean’s tongue moved to chase his father’s cock. John chuckled and obliged him, letting Dean tongue at his leaking slit before sliding forward until he filled Dean’s mouth.

Dean didn't gag when his father’s cock pressed against the back of his throat, just tilted his head back and whined, the vibrations of it carrying up and through John’s length and making him groan. He tenderly petted his hands down Dean’s flushed cheeks until he had them cupped around the back of Dean’s head, protecting Dean’s skull from the hard edge of the table, and then he began to thrust.

John didn't force himself down his son’s throat; he didn't think that Dean was quite ready for that yet. He'd sized up with Dean’s deepthroat training, but John’s cock was significantly bigger than those dildos were. Instead, John pumped his hips slowly and languidly slid his cock in and out of his son’s mouth, careful not to slam in too hard as Dean struggled to suck on him at the same time. 

The first few inches of John’s cock were quickly coated with Dean’s spit; the presence of his father’s hard length made the boy’s mouth flood with thick, slippery saliva. He was drooling for it. It wet his plush pink lips and leaked out around John’s girth, trailing thickly up Dean’s downturned face to soak into his blindfold. John lovingly smeared the trails of spit all over his son’s face with his thumbs; rubbed it into Dean's sun-reddened cheeks, where his freckles had darkened and multiplied over the summer.

With Dean’s head hanging upside-down off the edge of the table, each thrust forward sent John’s heavy balls smacking into the young boy’s covered eyes. Thankfully, the padded blindfold was protecting him from the barrage. The soft smacking of skin on skin was audible from the wet hole at the other end as well, Bill’s thrusting into the gushy cunt becoming a little faster and intentional.

John could feel his knot begin to swell and he thrust a little deeper – just a little – to feel the larger girth of it bump against his son’s lips. The noises coming from Dean’s mouth were wet, a combination of slick sucking and wet coughing and tiny grunts and whines. It sounded nearly as obscene as the splatting and squelching of the boy’s sloppy cunt; Dean really did have the sluttiest holes. 

“Fuck,” John groaned as he stuttered his hips to a stop with his full knot pressed right up against the seal of Dean’s lips. He came, shooting thickly straight down his son’s throat. Dean whimpered and began to swallow the treat, his tight fuckhole working around John’s cockhead and milking his spend out of him.

The sight of the young omega drinking down his Alpha’s hot cum pushed Bill over the edge as well. The beta man thrust into Dean’s loose hole one final time and then let out a deep hum as he filled it with his cum, eyes closing in appreciation.

“Ahh,” Bill sighed, drawing his softening cock out of Dean’s soaking gape. The mouth of the tiny pink cunt was still open, the entrance a little puffy now with use. It flared and twitched a little, and Bill chuckled and poked a finger through the empty opening. 

The little hole seemed to sense the presence even though Bill’s finger didn't even brush against the sides on the way in. The inner walls fluttered and clenched down weakly, sucking on the thick finger just like Dean’s mouth was sucking on his daddy’s cock.

“I can see what you mean, he really is a slut,” Bill said, not unkindly; “Is this hole ever not hungry for cock?”

“Not yet,” John answered fondly with his son’s head still cradled in his hands. “Dean’s hole has been pretty insatiable ever since he came into his slick.”

John backed his length a little ways out of Dean’s mouth to allow for his son to suck in air through his nose while he continued to swallow his father’s load. Dean’s cheeks puffed out a bit as alpha cum flooded his mouth, but he continued to hungrily gulp it down and the seal of his swollen lips around John’s girth prevented any leaks.

“It’s a little difficult, I bet,” Bill said. “Raising two kids by yourself. Especially one like Dean, with special needs. Have you ever…” He hesitated. His finger was still in Dean's hole, kindly letting the little cunt continue to suck on it. “I hope you don't take this the wrong way, I don't mean it like I'm sure other folks would. I'm just a little curious.”

John raised an eyebrow. He could sort of tell what question was in Bill’s mind; not like he hadn't heard it before from the guys at work or the other dads at Sam’s and Dean’s schools. 

“Yeah?” John asked, thumbs soothing the corners of Dean’s stretched jaw. Bill hesitated again and then shook his head with a self-deprecating smile.

“Y’know, I was gonna ask if you’ve ever considered selling him. Just ‘cause from what I've heard it's not always easy keeping an omega, even with the government stipend. And with you being a single father and all…” Bill rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged. “But I just realized what a stupid question that would’ve been.” Bill glanced over at the basketball court where Jo was scowling in concentration as she tried to match Sam’s throw. “Raising kids is never easy. But if you love them, it's worth it.”

John could feel his release tapering off, the flood of cum into Dean’s mouth slowing as the young omega's face-hole worked around his hard cock. 

Yeah, that was a familiar question. John couldn't even count how many times he'd heard it in the years since Dean had gotten his slick. It was a question that pretty much always pissed him off, because it was the kind of question that could only be asked seriously by someone who couldn't fathom that John didn't just own Dean, but loved Dean. Loved Dean with every bone in his body; a love that was just as all-consuming and painful and wonderful as the love that he had for Sam. He was grateful every day that he was an alpha, which meant that his son could never be taken away from him; the only way they could be parted was if John sold him, and he never would.

“Yeah,” John said softly, finally pulling his spent cock from his boy’s sweet mouth. It slid out over Dean’s soft lips with a slick noise, Dean sucking all the while in an effort to keep every bit of his father’s cum inside him. “It's hard sometimes, but it’s worth it. I love him to bits, you know? More than anything.”

John wiped what remaining cum and spit clung to his softening cock off onto Dean’s flushed cheek, smearing it across his son’s sweet face while Dean swallowed and coughed. Dean's plump lower lip was trembling. Probably Dean was trying to keep himself from talking again, unsure of whether or not his cock-hungry holes having just been fed meant that he was no longer a picnic basket. Good boy; John would treat him extra-tenderly that night.

Bill finally pulled his finger out of Dean's well-used cunt and wiped it off on Dean’s thigh before thoughtfully returning the two thawed ice packs and the few empty tupperware containers to their proper place inside of Dean's stretched hole. The slutty hole twitched and squelched as it was filled back up and then softly closed around the items, no longer forcibly spread by the spreader hooks. Dean’s untouched cock was flushed and pink between his legs; Sam would undoubtedly be eager to make it spurt later when Dean’s people privileges were returned. 

“Well, I’ll talk to my wife tonight and see when we can have y'all over for dinner. And swing by the bar sometime! You can bring the boys. Jo is always looking for other kids to play with, and we've got a couple different options for omega seating. Dean can choose what he likes best. It'll be nice to formally meet the little guy, you know, when he's back to normal.”

“It’s a plan,” John said with a smile and a nod. “I know Dean will be excited. He’s always wanting to make new friends.”

And he leaned down to give his son one final kiss before slipping the bit gag back between Dean's teeth.

Chapter 23: Free Use Period III: Heat

—

It was Monday – which was kind of a slow day for free use period a lot of the time – so Coach Brady had spent a lot of Dean's third period free use sitting behind the free use bench and fucking Dean’s ass with the butt plug. Coach Brady had taken to doing that lately when there weren't any alphas in the room using Dean. He said it was to help Dean get used to the big size so that it wouldn’t hurt as much to have it taken out when the lube was all dried up.

It was… It was very thoughtful of him, Dean knew. Coach Brady was just being considerate. And, and Dean knew that what Coach Brady was doing wasn't wrong because he wasn't breaking any rules. And because the pit in Dean’s stomach and the shivery tight feeling in his throat and the ache in his chest while Coach Brady fucked his ass with the plug was the same feeling he got all the time when alphas used his cunt. Which meant that he liked it. So Dean had nothing to complain about.

Today, the coach had been extra soft with Dean for some reason. He'd even added a lot of lube to glide the way and went slowly, watching Dean’s tight asshole stretch and shrink around the quick-changing girth of the steel plug. While he languidly pumped the toy in and out, he was silent; there were none of the usual harsh words, no teasing. It made Dean feel a little uncertain.

When the bell rang to signify the end of third period, Coach Brady sighed and then pulled the plug all the way out of Dean. He then quietly went to put on his latex gloves and get the wet wipes to clean Dean off. He stood behind Dean for a few moments, and Dean could feel Brady’s eyes on his loosened asshole and on the pink slit of his glistening omega hole (which was still tight because only two alpha boys had come in that period and they'd only fingered him a little bit).

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Brady finally said, the first words that he'd spoken to Dean since locking him into his cock cage an hour ago.

A gloved hand landed softly on Dean's butt, making him startle. The latex-clad thumb swiped through his cleft, glancing over the slick entrance to his cunt and then hesitating at his asshole. Coach Brady circled Dean’s softened furl, the pad of his thumb applying just a little bit of pressure.

It didn't go inside, so it was okay. Coach Brady was just wiping away some leftover lube, probably. So it wasn't breaking any rules.

Dean shivered. He felt like curling up into a little ball.

Coach Brady’s thumb disappeared a moment later, and the strangely intimate-feeling touch was gone and replaced by a clinical – though not harsh – rub-down with the stinging wet wipe. Then he stepped away for another few seconds. Dean heard the faucet run and then Brady’s footsteps approached him again.

“Here’s your water.”

The coach's hand appeared in front of Dean’s face, holding out the usual plastic cup of water to him with a green straw in it. Dean glanced up shyly; the coach was crouching down in front of him, his face barely a couple of feet away. He was gazing intently at Dean’s hesitant face.

The monitors never gave him his water until after he'd been released from the bench. And they never held up Dean’s cup for him like this, to drink it out of their hands.

“Um. Thank you,” Dean said softly, biting his lip for just a moment before parting his lips and opening his mouth. Instead of Coach Brady moving the cup forward so that Dean could reach the straw, the man used his fingers to guide the straw into Dean’s mouth.

Dean closed his lips around the plastic straw and felt Brady's gloved fingers pressed against them, his knuckle brushing Dean's chin. Dean hollowed his cheeks and took a long pull. The water tasted a little… It was a little sweet, for some reason, but the aftertaste was bitter when Dean swallowed. He glanced up at the coach.

“Um… It tastes a little. A little weird.”

Coach Brady kept the cup held up in front of him. His expression didn't change.

“Take it up with the pipes. I’m sure the school board would be happy to call a plumber just for your prissy taste buds.”

Dean glanced down and away, suitably chastised. Coach Brady’s fingers nudged against his mouth again, the edge of the straw poking at his lips.

“Drink up. You want to stay hydrated.”

Brady watched Dean drink the water with an impenetrable expression. He wasn't smirking or frowning, just blank. But there was an intensity in his eyes as he observed Dean that made him feel a little nervous.

It was a bigger cup than usual, filled all the way to the brim. A lot more water than Dean was used to drinking at once. He paused occasionally to breathe, to maybe indicate that he was done and was ready to be unstrapped and go to lunch. But Coach Brady kept the cup held up under his face and the straw in his mouth – not even letting it exit the boy's lips again – until Dean had drained the whole thing and was only sucking up air.

“There you go. Don't you feel better now?”

Dean nodded, because it was a question that he was supposed to answer yes to. Brady put the cup down on the floor beside him and finally went around the bench, undoing the straps and releasing Dean from his bent-over position. Then he stepped away and went back to the desk while Dean carefully climbed off of the bench and stood on weak legs.

“What about… My cock cage?” Dean asked hesitantly. The monitors always took it off before unstrapping him, usually at the same time they removed the anal plug. But the glint of steel was still closed around him, hanging hard and tight between Dean’s legs.

“You have free use again after lunch this week, right?” Coach Brady asked. “Might as well just leave it on until then.”

Dean blinked. “Oh. Okay.” He guessed that made sense. It was only an hour, after all. He would rather not wear it during lunch, since he'd gotten big enough that it sort of hurt while it was on, but… It was more convenient, certainly, for the monitors. It would save them some time. And it wasn't like Dean really needed his penis uncaged during lunch. He would have to sit down on the toilet if he needed to pee, but there was an opening at the end for him to pee through.

With shaky limbs, Dean went to his cubby and pulled on his clothes and then took his lunch box out of his backpack. He left his backpack in the cubby, though, since he would be coming back right after lunch.

Just as Dean had reached the door to exit the omega use room, Coach Brady spoke up behind him.

“Have a good lunch,” he said. Dean turned his head; the man was looking at him from the desk with a smile and those same intense eyes.

Dean swallowed and nodded.

“Thank you,” he said. “Um, you too.”

—

Dean always liked to eat his lunch outside. He used to eat in the cafeteria with the other kids when he was younger, but after he got his slick it just wasn't the same. His body had just gotten so slutty. It distracted the other students; it was hard for them to focus on eating when something like Dean was sitting at the table with them.

Back in those days, Dean had thought at first that it would be okay from him to just sit with the other omegas. There were usually at least a couple others in the same lunch period, and he always saw them sitting with each other. But the other omegas didn't like how much attention Dean’s hole attracted, and so they always avoided him. The first time he'd tried to sit with them after getting his slick, the two omegas in his lunch period had gotten up and walked to the other side of the cafeteria.

Dean couldn't blame them; there were usually more kids who wanted to tease him than could reasonably do so at once, so if other omegas were around then they inevitably drew the attention of the most impatient students. It was Dean’s own fault for having such a slutty hole. A hole so slutty that it made the alpha and even beta students want to touch him all over and see what kinds of food from their lunches his hungry little cunt would eat up.

So Dean had tried to sit at the tables with the betas, but he just ended up being too much of a slut to eat lunch in the cafeteria like a normal boy. The other students would make him spread his legs in his seat or get up and bend over the lunch table so that they could put bits of their lunch inside him. And then the cafeteria lunch monitors would reprimand Dean for taking the other kids' food and wasting it by getting it dirty with his filthy hole.

After that, Dean would have to apologize to everyone whose lunch his cunt had eaten and then clean up the mess all by himself. There were plastic seat covers for the omegas to sit on to not get the cafeteria seats dirty, since the special omega seats were only in the classrooms, but Dean’s slutty body had always made the other students so excited that the messes ended up all over the floor as well. He'd had to clean them on his hands and knees.

One of the lunch ladies had always liked to make Dean clean up the messes with his pants pulled down to his ankles so that whatever had last been put into him was visible while he crawled around. Poking out of his tiny pink cunt so that everyone could see what a slutty boy he'd been. Often it had been a carrot or a stick of beef jerky or string cheese or even, sometimes, a whole entire banana.

Once, it had been a burrito that some girl had dropped on the floor and didn't want to eat anymore. It had kept falling apart as Dean crawled around cleaning up, only making the mess even bigger. The lunch lady had been forced to use her ladle to push the burrito fully into Dean’s hole, ignoring his tears and packing it in all the way to the back so that he'd stop being a dirty bad boy and spilling it everywhere.

Dean had always felt so ashamed and embarrassed during his punishments that he'd thought for sure that his nasty hole would learn its lesson, but it never did. It stayed just as slutty – and as time went on, it got even more so – and never stopped making the other students want to play with it. So Dean had learned to eat alone if he wanted to eat at all.

—

It felt a little strange to walk with the cock cage on. Dad never caged him at home – he didn't even own one – so Dean had only ever worn one while he was strapped down to the free use bench. The steel was warm from him wearing it for an hour already, but it was hard and heavy and bounced a little bit with each step, which kind of hurt. And it was odd to not be able to feel the fabric of his omega pants brushing against his penis.

Dean made himself as small as possible so as to not be noticed as he slipped around the periphery of the cafeteria towards the exit. Luckily, since fourth period was the first lunch hour of the day and the omega use room was right off of the cafeteria, the cafeteria was usually empty when Dean came to lunch. If he was quick, no one ever noticed him walk across it and exit the building to the back of the school.

Dean’s legs were shakier than usual as he made his way across the asphalt, where students could play four-square or hang out during lunch break. It was strange; Dean’s shakiness always disappeared after he walked it off, but today, it felt like it was getting worse, and there was a fluttery feeling in his belly. He wondered if he was getting sick.

Past the asphalt was a patch of grass, and past the grass was the small back lot where the teachers parked and the lane where the buses dropped off and picked up the middle schoolers. Beyond that were the sports fields that the middle and high school shared; the soccer field and the baseball diamond were closest to the middle school. The athletic locker rooms – which were different from the ones the regular students changed in for PE – was a small building just past them.

There was a small cluster of trees on the far end of the soccer field; past that was the track where Dean had been loaned for the high school meet, and on the other side of it – off in the distance – the high school. The high school had a football stadium, too, but it was on the opposite side of it and across the street, so Dean couldn't see it from the middle school.

Dean made a beeline towards the trees. That was where he liked to eat, because no one else walked that far during lunch. It took ten minutes to get to them across the soccer field, and no one wanted to go that far out of their way.

Though... Benny had told him once that he'd be happy to meet Dean there to eat with him if only they had lunch at the same time. It made Dean really happy to imagine eating lunch with a friend. Sometimes, it was almost good enough to just imagine that Benny was there with him while he sat in the grass alone.

Suddenly, between one step and the next, a sensation shot through Dean that made him stumble. It wasn’t painful, just weird; like a tickle down there between his legs. Dean paused for a second, but the feeling was gone. After a moment, he started walking again.

A few steps later and the feeling was back. It really was a tickling feeling, gentle like a feather. But it was deep inside him, in his core. Dean shuddered. He'd never felt like this before.

As he slowly continued, the tickle began to spread; initially it had just been a small point at the end of his omega hole, but with each step it flared and spread down towards his entrance.

Dean’s legs were getting more wobbly and he was starting to feel a little light-headed. Sweat had started to bead up on Dean’s forehead as the bright sun beat down on him. The tickling feeling was getting stronger, and it was starting to ache a little bit. Like when Dad rubbed his back for too long and it started to not feel good anymore.

Dean nearly tripped over his feet as a particularly strong surge rippled through his inner walls. This wasn't… This wasn't normal. He'd never felt this before.

Struck by the sudden irrational fear that a giant bug had somehow gotten into him and was crawling all over his insides, Dean’s hand shot down between his legs. He slipped his fingers through the gap in his omega pants to finger at his tight little entrance to see if he could feel any scratchy insect feet.

The very second that Dean’s fingertips grazed his slippery rim, the tickling feeling died down; when one of his small fingers tentatively slid inside, the feeling disappeared entirely. The absence of the strange sensation almost registered as pleasure in his brain, and Dean sighed with relief and pulled his hand back out of his pants.

The moment that he was no longer touching his hole, the tickle returned; this time, it blazed to an unbearable high that almost felt like burning and sent Dean falling to his knees as his vision whited out.

“Help,” he whimpered to the empty soccer field, fingers curling in the grass.

Dean was certain that he was dying, the empty pit inside him was tingling it was burning it was hot hot hot it was going to kill him! He could barely make out his surroundings, eyes blurred by tears. A shrill ringing echoed in his ears, and the scents around him were muddy and overwhelming. He didn't know where he was! He was all empty inside! He was all empty empty empty empty empty empty empty…

Dean struggled to pull his phone from his pocket to call his daddy… No, Benny was so close, he was just right over there at the high school, and he was Dean’s best friend, he would come if Dean called him and he would fuck Dean he would he would fuck him with his big cock… He would come and he would put his big big cock in Dean’s hole, he would he would… Because he liked Dean he did he liked him, he called him cher, he said Dean’s hole was sweet he said Dean was his best friend…

But the symbols on the phone screen didn't make any sense! They were all jumbled around and twisted, and even muscle memory did nothing because Dean’s fingers weren't landing on the screen where he told them to touch. He tried so hard to find the call screen, to find Benny's number, but Dean’s clumsy hands dropped his phone and he patted blindly around in the grass but he couldn't find it. He couldn't find it which meant he couldn’t call Benny to come help him to come fuck him to come fuck him with his cock. Dean pushed himself up to his feet and began to stumble away… He wasn't sure where he was walking towards because the sun was too bright to see anything and there was too much noise and he couldn't parse one scent from the next. But he didn't want to die. He needed to get fucked he was empty he was so empty so very empty.

Dean panted open-mouthed as he stumbled over the grass, and then a scent hit him that made his cunt gush slick and his body tremble with need and longing. He whimpered. The source of the scent would help him, he knew it with certainty. He still couldn't tell where he was going, but the scent was getting stronger so he was moving in the right direction.

The buzzing shrill noises around him turned to something so much more pleasing to Dean’s ears. A gentle rumble. It sounded familiar. What was it?

He almost fell down in shock when he stepped on something hard. He looked down to see that grass was no longer under his feet, but dirt. As he kept stepping forward, the dirt turned into a grid of little flat green rocks. Tiles. A tiled floor.

Dean’s fingers shifted and twisted inside him… Inside him? Yes, down between his legs, he had three fingers twisting inside his cunt trying to stop the burning. Pumping in and out. He didn't even remember putting them there, but it was good that they were there because if they weren't then he'd die he'd really die.

He kept stumbling forward and the nice sound was suddenly all around him and the good smell, the smell that would help him, wrapped around him like a blanket. His head cleared a little bit and he was able to understand better where he was.

Dean was standing in the middle of the boys’ athletic locker room, the one that was shared by the sports fields. The scent that had drawn him there was the heady musk of sweaty high school boys, and the nice sound that he was hearing were their voices. They were rumbling over each other as they talked, but their words weren't making any sense. They sounded like they were speaking another language.

“What do we have here?” one of the boys asked, and Dean didn't understand the words. He looked up and around him and saw so many boys, but he couldn't recognize their faces. It wasn't that they were strangers, it was that he couldn't tell if they were: the features were blurry and seemed to morph and distort in front of his eyes.

He whimpered, frightened and confused by what was happening to him. His fingers were still working furiously inside of his hole. He thought that maybe he should feel embarrassed to be touching himself like this – his omega hole was for alphas, not for him, and he almost never touched it himself – but he couldn't stop.

“Nngh,” Dean managed to force past his lips as he looked around at the taller boys. They'd surrounded him, curious, some of them half-dressed or still in their uniforms and some of them wearing only towels. They had cocks under there, under their towels. Dean’s mouth began to water and his hole clenched around his fingers. Fingers weren't enough, he needed cocks he needed cocks so bad so very very bad.

“Help,” Dean whispered, and then sank to his knees with his ass in the air and the side of his face pressed against the floor.

—

“Found one!” Ben exclaimed triumphantly as he reentered the locker room with a cheerleader uniform in hand. “Size extra-small! I knew Coach Greytack kept some old ones in her office!”

“Perfect,” Shaun said and gestured for his teammate to bring the outfit over to him. He took the little green-and-yellow matching crop-top and pleated skirt and then held them out to the omega on the floor in front of him.

When Dean had stumbled into the locker room a few minutes ago and begged to be fucked, it had felt… serendipitous. Shaun hadn't been able to stop thinking about that slutty little boy and his cute little face since the party at his house, and now the sweet thing was on his knees in front of him begging for cock.

Something seemed a little wrong with the omega, true. He was acting a little off in the head. He didn't even seem to recognize Shaun, gazing up at him with incomprehension as he panted and barely took in every other word that Shaun spoke. But Shaun didn't mind… It kind of made it better, even, to think that the innocent little boy didn't even know what was going on. Plus, it meant that the cutie wouldn't go tattling to Benny about him. Shaun didn't want a busted face.

Dean had been crying and whining in something like pain when he first fell to the floor. Shaun wasn't, like, a monster; if the boy was really in a bad way then he definitely would've called for a teacher or something. Right after he fingered the boy a little bit. But the second that Shaun’s hand had landed on Dean’s upturned ass over those omega pants, the younger boy had let out a long, keening noise of pleasure and pushed back into the touch.

The scent of slick had filled the room. So much had gushed out of the omega’s slutty hole that the seat of his pants had grown dark and wet, and Shaun had realized that whatever this was, it’d been God-sent.

For the baseball team, the hardest part of getting Dean out of his regular clothes had been trying to convince the boy to stop fingering his needy cunt for long enough to pull his pants down and his shirt off over his head. It had taken a group effort: Shaun murmuring soothing words and playing with Dean’s nipples whilst three of his teammates struggled to hold Dean’s hands away from his dripping hole and maneuver them through the sleeves of his shirt. The only thing that Dean had seemed to mind about the ordeal were the few short seconds during which there wasn't anything filling his slutty hole.

“Do you remember what we told you?” Shaun asked the younger boy with a gentle voice, shaking out the pleated skirt and holding it up in front of Dean’s flushed face.

Dean gazed past the cheerleader uniform and up at Shaun from the floor with pupils so blown that his eyes looked black. His hips were working furiously as he tried to bounce up and down on his own fingers, and he made a questioning whine, dropping his jaw and lolling his tongue out over his teeth.

Shaun smiled and held out his hand to slide his long fingers into Dean’s mouth. Dean eagerly began to suck on them, and having something warm and solid fucking into his mouth seemed to help him focus a little.

“We told you that we’ll fuck you, but only if you wear this for us. My boys don't wanna use a cocksleeve, they wanna fuck a slutty girl today. How d’you like that?”

It took a few moments for Dean’s brain to parse through the words, and he didn't seem to understand all of them, but his eyes brightened and he tried to say something garbled around Shaun’s fingers.

“Yeah, you like that. You wanna be our slutty girl.” He pumped three fingers into Dean’s mouth while Dean tried to nod, drool sliding down his chin.

After a few seconds of that, Shaun pulled his fingers away. Dean tried to chase after them, upset, and nearly overbalanced. He would have fallen onto his pretty little face – his hands were too busy desperately fingering his sopping hole to catch himself – but Shaun caught him gently in his arms. The older boy leaned down and slid two of his fingers into Dean’s slick hole alongside Dean’s own, and for just a second the omega relaxed with a great sigh of relief.

“C’mon, now,” Shaun cajoled, speaking slowly so that the boy’s addled brain could comprehend. “Put this on, and we’ll give you some cock.”

“Cock?” Dean whimpered. “In? In in in?”

“Yeah, cock inside you, lots of cock.”

With help from the other guys again, Shaun manipulated the younger boy's arms and legs into the stretchy fabric of the cheerleader uniform. When they were done, the pretty boy really did look like a pretty girl, rosy-cheeked and bright-eyed with those bee-stung lips. The tight crop top and flared skirt gave the illusion of curves, and when Shaun took the boy by the hair and bent him over one of the benches, his slutty little boycunt clenched and flared wetly. It really resembled a pussy if you didn't look too closely, especially with those cute little cock and balls of his – all caged up, fuck – tucked away between his thighs and the bench, out of view. The lips and ruffles were the least important parts of pussies, anyway; Shaun wasn't exactly missing them.

“Look at that, guys,” Shaun said, grabbing at the younger boy’s cheeks and spreading them open wide so that all of his teammates could easily see the gulping pink mouth of Dean’s hole underneath the rumpled skirt. “This slutty girl’s been waiting for cock. She's really hungry for it. You're not gonna keep her waiting, are you?”

“‘Course not,” Ben said with a grin. He’d been rubbing himself through his shorts while watching Shaun and the others get Dean all dolled up in the outfit that he'd found. “Can’t just leave a slutty girl like this empty.”

“Get over here then, Ben. You're up.”

Dean’s disposition suddenly changed, his needy expression morphing to hope and excitement. His cunt clenched, blurting slick out onto the tiled floor, and his face brightened.

“Benny?” Dean craned his neck around to look up at the boys with their distorted, unrecognizable faces. “Benny here? Benny for me?”

“Wait a second,” Ben said slowly. “Is this that omega that Benny Lafitte smashed Richard Roman’s nose up over?”

“Relax. Look at her.” Shaun gestured towards Dean’s sloppy, hopeful smile and unfocused eyes. The little boy looked fucked stupid and he hadn't even been fucked yet. “She can't tell Tom from Dick. Or, well, Tom from Cock. Something’s messed up in her head, I think.”

“Um… Then should we take it to the nurse?” one of the younger boys on the team asked somewhat reluctantly.

“Nah, she's just craving cock right now. Best thing to do for her is give her what she's asking for.”

Shaun had his suspicions. Every sign so far pointed to rut: the burning need for sexual relief, not being able to recognize faces, not understanding basic sentences and speaking like a brain-damaged idiot. But Dean was an omega and omegas didn't get ruts, so there was only one thing that could make him act like that… and whoever had slipped that drug to this little boy was Shaun’s new best friend.

“Even if she remembers this, she's not gonna know who did it,” Shaun continued. Then a grin split his face; “That means this hole is free for beta use at the moment, too. All her holes, really. As long as no one snitches.”

The high-schoolers all looked around the locker room at each other. No one seemed to object.

“B-Benny?” Dean asked again, dark eyes bouncing around as he flared his empty little hole and tried unsuccessfully to reach behind himself and stick his fingers inside. “In. In in in please.” Something in his eyes looked wild and desperate, and he began to grow agitated. “In please. Sorry. Please. Benny help. Benny help me.”

“You want cock? You want cock right now?” Shaun asked, and immediately Dean seemed to forget all about his friend.

“Yes cock now,” he said earnestly, nodding and nodding and bucking his little hips back into the older boy’s grip. His hole, spread open between Shaun’s hands, made little wet noises as it pulsed with need. A bubble of slick expanded and then burst and dripped thickly out from the sweet pink slit. “Cock now, help, now, please now now now…”

“You heard her,” Shaun said to Ben with a smirk, and with a returning grin Ben lined up his cock with the young boy’s hole and thrust inside.

—

“C’mon bitch, yeah, bounce on that dick, you know you love it…”

“Touch your little titties. No, not like that… Rub them all over like a slut. Here…”

One of the boys took Dean’s hands and put them on his chest to show him how to do it. After a minute, the young omega got with the program and began to clumsily caress his flat chest as if he had small breasts.

He cupped his flat little pecs in his palms and squeezed them together, plucking at his rosy nipples through the clinging fabric of the little green-and-yellow crop-top as he bounced up and down on the thick cock beneath him. His sweet face was blushing bright red, drool sliding down his chin, lust-dark eyes crossing with pleasure.

“Unh unh unh!” Dean panted, thighs shaking with exertion as he rhythmically raised himself up and dropped himself down, sliding the inner walls of his dripping cunt along the rigid length of the high-schooler’s cock. Each time he seated himself fully it was with a little splat, slick squirting out from where their bodies met. The skirt was getting soaked.

“Fuck yeah,” Jason, the boy underneath him, moaned. He wrapped his big hands around Dean's narrow waist, thumbs caressing the bare patch of skin between the skirt and the crop-top. Dean shuddered, his needy hole convulsing around the older boy's cock. "Slutty girl."

“Fucking whore,” another boy sneered as he jacked himself with one hand. “You love cock, don't you, bitch?”

“Cock?” Dean asked, unfocused eyes moving at different speeds as he looked around the room. He panted, tongue hanging out over his lower lip and mouth open in a sloppy smile. “More?”

“Yeah, I’ll give you more.”

The older boy stepped forward until he was standing beside Jason and the young boy that was perched reverse-cowgirl style on his lap. He smacked Dean’s face with his hard cock, and Dean let out a moan and turned his face towards it with his mouth wide open. The beta boy laughed and ignored Dean’s gaping mouth in favor of continuing to smack him back and forth across both cheeks with his leaking cock, getting pre-cum all over the omega's starry freckles.

“Aahn!” Dean whimpered, open-mouthed. He stuck out his tongue more, wondering why the delicious-smelling cock wasn't going inside. His little cunt squeezed around Jason's cock and Jason hissed, his hands lowering from Dean's waist to the V of his legs. His fingers slipped underneath the pleated skirt and cupped the omega's caged cock.

“Poor little clitty, all locked up,” he murmured, rubbing the heel of his hand over the steel and making Dean mewl.

The boy with his cock in Dean's face cooed. “Pretty girl,” he said, using his hand to smear his pre-cum around in swirls, watching the head of his cock dent Dean’s soft cheeks. He grabbed a fistful of Dean’s hair, making the desperate omega keen and lean into the blazing hot touch, and then aimed his cock to press it hard into the inner corner of Dean’s eye.

Dean babbled and whined as the beta boy used his grip in Dean’s hair to hold him in place as he rutted against the omega’s face, up and down in the crook between the side of his nose and his soft cheek and battering against the corner of his eye with each upstroke. Dean squeezed his eyes closed against the onslaught, desperately trying to tempt the cock into his empty mouth instead. His pert nose was smooshed against the older boy's hip.

“The fuck are you doing? You've got a perfectly good hole right there.”

“I don't do sloppy seconds,” the beta boy shrugged as his glans slid slickly across Dean’s flushed cheek. Three of the other boys had already fucked the omega’s willing mouth.

The beta continued to rub himself off like that, treating the soft planes of sweet skin and baby fat like just something to grind against for relief. After another minute, he pressed Dean’s face against his hips, relishing the feel of the young boy’s open, wet mouth sucking against his upper thigh as he came in a hot stripe across Dean’s eyebrow and up his forehead into his hair.

“Ahhnn,” Dean whined again when the boy pulled his softening cock away, mouth open and tongue lolled out. “Ahhnnn!”

“Don't stop, bitch!” Jason said from underneath him, slapping Dean’s ass over his pleated skirt. “Did you forget about the cock in your greedy pussy? Or do you just not want it anymore?”

Dean had nearly forgotten to ride the cock inside him in his desperation for something to fill his mouth. At the reminder, though, he began to bounce again, clamping down rhythmically on the cock in his cunt, still rubbing his hands all over his flat little tits and keeping his mouth open, an invitation. A beg. His eyes were shining and unfocused, his lips spit-slick and red-swollen. Shaun stepped forward and took Dean’s jaw in hand, squeezed the younger boy’s cheeks until his lips pouted out.

“Get her up on her hands and knees,” he told Jason. “Let's put her over the bench again.”

Jason was tall and muscular, and he stood up still holding Dean, the young boy hanging off his dick. Dean mewled, legs dangling and his desperate cunt clamping down on the cock inside it. He flailed his arms until he was caught under the armpits by Shaun, and then the two older boys carried him easily over to one of the benches.

They draped him across the bench. Dean’s bare toes curled and his fingers scrabbled against the grimy tiles underneath his face. When the cock inside his cunt started to roughly fuck into him, Dean wailed, thighs shivering and legs splaying wide. He began to beg wordlessly again for something to fill his empty mouth.

“You want something to suck on, then here,” a voice said humorously, and a dirty jockstrap was shoved between Dean’s lips. “A good girl shuts the fuck up while she’s getting her pussy pounded.”

The smell was strong – it was Rob’s jockstrap, and he barely washed it once or twice a season – and Dean’s eyes crossed as he breathed in the thick smell of boysweat and musk and cock and then began to chew and suck on the filthy fabric.

“Mmh,” Dean hummed through his makeshift gag, eyes fluttering as Jason's cock rammed into his sweet spot. There was a little clicking sound coming from beneath him as each penetrating thrust tapped the steel of his cock cage against the wooden bench.

Another boy got down on his knees near Dean’s downturned face and wrapped the boy’s small hand around his cock, guiding it up and down the hot length of it until Dean understood the demand. A third got on Dean’s other side and did the same with Dean’s second hand. Behind the young omega, Jason finally came with a grunt, emptying his load deep inside Dean’s gulping omega hole before pulling out and making room for someone else.

By the time that the baseball team had satisfied themselves with the helpless boy’s body, Dean was gleaming with sweat, hair plastered to his forehead and the full length of his inner legs slippery with slick and cum. His hair was wet and sticky with it as well, from the boys who'd jacked off with his softer, smaller hands. Dean’s hips were still twitching, resulting in a furious tap-tap-tapping of his cock cage on the bench. His pink cunt had a sweet little gape, just barely the size of a thumb thanks to all of the cocks it had been graciously fed. It was mesmerizing to look at, a little black hole in the middle of that sweet, slick pink. Every few moments it squeezed closed for a fraction of a second as the inner walls fluttered and spasmed.

“Mmuhh!” Dean whined through the jockstrap in his mouth, which was soaked through with his saliva as he continued to suck on it.

“More?” Shaun asked. He'd been sitting on the bench next to Dean, petting the younger boy’s back as he'd been repeatedly fucked. “You want more in this messy pussy?”

Dean nodded. “Mmuhh!”

He tilted his hips and wiggled his butt; the pleats of the cute little cheerleader skirt swayed and fluttered. Shaun lowered his hand between the younger boy’s legs and began to caress his ass. Shaun teased his fingertips along the boy’s hot, swollen slit; Dean gave a full-body shudder and moaned, his used hole fluttering wetly against the older boy’s fingers. He arced his lower back, trying to push up against the touch, but Shaun didn't satisfy him. He just continued to teasingly trace the hot, slick swell of Dean’s entrance.

Dean began to whine, the sound high and muffled by the improvised gag and stretching out long until it sounded animalistic rather than human. The entrance to his little pink cunt began to shudder and gasp, sucking open and closed despairingly with wet little noises, like the mouth of a hungry fish.

“Does anyone have something other than a cock to stuff this slutty girl with?” Shaun asked the locker room at large.

Dean nodded his head, eyes scrunched closed. The little space above the bridge of his nose between both eyebrows was adorably crinkled, his cheeks still glowing and shiny with tears. A few streaks of cum – what hadn’t made it into his hair – were dried and tacky across his face.

“I've got something,” Braedan, the team captain, said.

A moment later, the team’s hefty duffel bag slid across the floor to settle a few feet away from Shaun and Dean. The drag of fabric on tile sounded heavy; three bat handles stuck out from the gap of the slightly-open zipper. Shaun grinned.

“Get her lying down on her back, yeah?” he directed towards a few of the younger guys, who hurried to oblige.

They took Dean’s smaller body and hefted him easily to his wobbly legs, then spun him around and laid him back onto the bench. This time, he was lying across it longways, his tailbone hanging just off the narrow end. As Shaun slowly drew a long, scuffed-up wooden bat from the team duffel, the two younger players each took one of Dean’s ankles and bent his knees up, spreading his legs wide.

Dean reached down and tried to stuff his own fingers into his open hole, but the older boys grabbed his hands. One of them raised it to his mouth and began to suck on three of Dean’s fingers, and the omega blinked and watched the beta boy’s mouth work around his knuckles with a dazzled sort of expression. Like he didn't know that his limbs could go inside of other people’s holes, too.

“Alright,” Shaun said, tossing the bat up and catching it easily in his other hand with a solid sound of wood-on-skin. He wrapped his hand around the handle with familiarity and let it swing down with a whoosh, then dragged the end along the filthy tiles beside him as he walked over to stand between Dean’s spread legs.

“Ckuhh!” Dean sputtered through the spit-soaked jockstrap.

“Sorry, bitch, we don't have any more cock for you. Your greedy pussy ate it all up. But we can fill you up with other things.”

The blunt end of the bat was directed towards the young boy’s pleading gape. It was scuffed and dirty but Shaun didn't care, and neither did Dean. Shaun teased him, swirling the thick bat around and around the omega’s needy rim, getting it all lubed up with the cum and slick that dripped out.

Desperately, Dean bucked his hips and squealed around his gag, a full-body shudder making his hole squeeze up tight and blurt slick out onto the blunt end of the baseball bat. Shaun saw this as the perfect opportunity to shove forward and plunge the relentless mass of wood into that tight clench.

A grunt of pain was forced up from Dean’s chest, but it quickly turned to pleasure. His upper body collapsed with a relieved sigh back onto the bench as the bat forced in and in.

“Yeah, fuck, shove it in her little pussy,” Braedan said, watching the object slide inside the little boy’s sweet, helpless body with awe. “Make her take it. Bitch deserves it, the fucking whore.”

He rubbed his half-hard length through his shorts. A lot of the other baseball players were doing the same, most of them sated and flaccid but nonetheless enjoying the feeling of their hands cupping their softened cocks while they watched the out-of-his-mind omega beg to be stuffed full by the huge baseball bat.

“She wants it,” one of them breathed. “Look, she wants it so bad. Taken all our cocks and she still wants more.”

Shaun watched the wooden bat disappear between Dean’s spread legs. It was like a sick sort of magic trick; he'd seen beta women and omegas get fucked by baseball bats before in porn – who hadn’t? – but never anyone as young and small as Dean was.

The young omega was so delicate, with his glowing skin (god, he had new freckles all over him even since the party last Friday, as if he'd spent time fully naked in the sun over the weekend) and long, slender limbs. The boy’s face was beautiful: full pink lips that Shaun wanted to suck on, blushing cheeks that Shaun wanted to bite, and the fan of his eyelashes clumped with tears fluttering as his dazed green eyes rolled back into his head.

Shaun wanted to just eat him up. Fuck. This pretty, slutty little boy…

“Nnnghh,” Dean whimpered. The girth and friction of the scuffed-up bat was dragging the external skin around his hole inside with it, a feeling that was surely uncomfortable. But Shaun only smiled and didn't relent on the pressure as he watched the thick bat split the little boy open.

“How deep is it inside her?” asked Ben, voice quiet and almost reverent. “She's so small.”

“Watch,” Shaun breathed. He pushed down on the handle of the bat, and there was a joint inhale of breath from the entire team as they saw Dean’s stomach bulge out, the shape of the blunt end of the bat perfectly visible underneath the soft skin of his belly.

Shaun pulled the bat out – Dean let out a little sigh of ecstasy as the strain of the friction let up – and then leisurely pumped it in a few times, allowing the length to get all slicked up. With each thrust in, he pushed down on the handle so that they could all watch the boy’s stomach bulge grotesquely from the intrusion. God, Shaun had to give it to the kid's Alpha; he'd been training the omega's holes well.

Continuing to thrust, Shaun began to make the movements faster and faster. What had started as muffled squelching noises melted into sloppy sounds, wet and sloshing as the unrelenting baseball bat plowed through Dean's convulsing insides. Dean was lost in the sensation, eyes rolling back into his head and entire body shuddering and shifting backward and forward on the bench with the force of the thrusting. His limbs were twitching, wracked by the spasms of an endlessly drawn-out pleasure that never abated and never allowed him release.

Despite everything, the wooden mass felt tiny inside him, fruitlessly fucking into a squishy chasm that needed more more more. He was squirming on the bench in the grasp of the two boys holding him down, the high-schoolers all watching with wide eyes as the bat continued to bulge out from the young omega's belly; it was going more than a foot inside him. If Shaun aimed wrong, it would bump into his floating ribs.

“Slutty girl,” Shaun gasped, the muscles in his upper arm flexing and shifting as he plunged the bat deep inside the helpless boy. He was panting himself, sweat plastering his blond hair to his forehead, his arm growing fatigued. “Little slut. God, fuck, look at your pussy just take it.”

Dean blinked slowly and trembled, drops of sweat beading on his forehead and upper lip as he struggled to clench down harder onto the baseball bat. To make it feel bigger. To make it fuck into him harder. The boy next to him was still sucking on his fingers, and Dean curled them against the beta’s tongue and then yelped when the beta boy bit down on them in punishment.

“This is what you're made for,” Shaun continued. He finally stopped, breathing heavily, the bat still buried inside Dean's drooling cunt. He leaned against it, watched the little boy's stomach bulge and his swollen pink rim mouth along the wood as it slipped just a little bit further inside. “Just a sex doll, really. Made to be fucked. Made to be used.” He chuckled, jiggled the bat a little bit. “How're you feeling?”

Dean was shuddering and limp, nearly unresponsive, chest heaving as he stared up at the ceiling with slightly-crossed eyes. A thick string of slick was slowly stretching down to the floor as it dripped from where the bat met his cunt. Shaun teasingly twisted the bat around, watching the way it dragged just slightly at the mouth of the swollen gape.

“Did we give your little pussy enough cock?” he asked. Having had a chance to catch his breath, he slowly began to fuck the bat into Dean's sore hole again, this time in much shallower plunges. The wet sounds again filled the locker room, squishes and splats as Dean's defenseless insides were churned and slick was steadily forced out and dripped down onto the floor. One hand still on the bat, holding it steady as he mixed up the omega's shivering cunt, Shaun reached out with his other hand to pull the jockstrap out of Dean’s mouth.

Dean’s eyes flooded with tears and he sobbed.

“More!” he said, bucking his hips to meet Shaun's shallow plunges and shaking his head. “Hot hot hot hurts! Need more! More please! More please help! Help help help help help help–”

Shaun smiled and lowered his hand to stroke his thumb around the taut rim of Dean’s pulsing, sloppy cunt to feel it shift as the bat slid across it. He slipped his fingers around, almost sliding a few into Dean's hungry hole alongside the bat. After a moment of this cruel torment, Shaun took the boy’s little steel cock cage between his thumb and forefinger.

Shaun jiggled the caged cock harshly, making Dean yelp and throw his head back in pleasure-pain. The young boy sniffled and cried, tears and snot and drool all dripping from his chin.

“You need to come from your clitty, don't you? But you can’t because of this thing. Poor little girl.” He tugged and wiggled the omega’s caged cock again and then patted Dean’s slippery inner thigh. “Your cute little clitty is all locked up. If you wanna come, you're gonna have to find someone to unlock it for you. Pity we don't have the key.”

“Here,” Ben said, holding something out, and Shaun held out his hand. Ben slapped a dirty baseball down onto his open palm, and Shaun grinned.

“Really, so sorry we can't help with that. But if you want more, we can give you more.”

Some of the boys approached with resistance bands and began to tie Dean’s wrists together and then to the leg of the bench beneath him. Meanwhile, Shaun withdrew the full length of the baseball bat with a wet schlick before palming the filthy baseball into Dean’s gasping hole and then using the bat to shove it as deep as it could go.

Ben continued to supply Shaun with baseballs and Shaun eagerly loaded Dean like a canon, shoving them up through the wet tunnel of the omega's sore cunt with the dripping baseball bat until Dean's belly was bulging with them. They shifted against each other, slimy with slick and not enough not enough not enough.

“Please,” Dean whimpered tearfully, body trembling with need. The last baseball was shoved into him, and then Shaun unsheathed the bat for the final time and wiped off the slime onto Dean’s lumpy belly. “Help please please. Cock. Cock please more, more, hurts, hurts hurts hurts…”

“We’ve gotta go back to class now,” Shaun said, running his fingers through Dean’s dirty hair as the younger boy struggled to make out his face. “I’m sure someone will find you eventually. I think soccer has their practice at three today.” He patted Dean's cheek with affection and then shoved the wet jockstrap back into Dean's mouth. “Anyway, guess we’ll see you around.”

The boys chattered amongst each other as they finished getting dressed and washed their hands, the stuffed body of the young boy on the bench shuddering and clenching around the baseballs as they ignored him. Finally they finished and began to file out of the locker room, muttering and laughing a chorus of thank-yous to the despairing omega, patting the bulge of baseballs shifting underneath his belly as they walked past him. The last one to leave shoved one final thing into Dean’s still-gaping cunt before tweaking his caged cock and exiting the locker room.

Dean was left alone, dripping sweat and cum and aching for release.

—

Left in the locker room for he didn't know how long, Dean's body was flushed and desperate as he clenched and squeezed around the objects inside him. He wanted to come! He wanted to come so bad! He didn't know that it was possible to be so full and feel so empty all at once!

He was so distracted by the relentless ache in his stuffed hole that he didn't hear the footsteps of someone entering the locker room until the person spoke.

“What do we have here?” a deep voice asked from behind Dean, and Dean perked up. A cock! A cock!

Overjoyed, he panted and wiggled his hips, hoping to entice the owner of the voice to come over and remove whatever tiny little thing was stopping up his cunt so that he could be filled and fucked and used and the burning burning heat could finally go away…

Dean blinked and then there were big warm hands on his asscheeks, spreading them open. Arching his back and spreading his thighs, Dean struggled to encourage the hands inwards towards his needy cunt. Thumbs traced the slick rim.

“My, my. Looks like someone’s been a very bad boy.”

Chapter 24: Brady's Bad Boy

The Pit had put some trust in Brady’s existing knowledge and experience with Dean – what made him tick, what he’d respond to – and so it was Brady himself who’d come up with the initial plan.

It had taken him a good chunk of Saturday to brainstorm, but the ideation session had resulted in something that he was proud of. On Sunday, Brady had called the Pit-provided phone number from the public phone at the library to give them the address of his covert P.O. box and a short list of required materials.

He hadn’t heard back (he'd left a voicemail), but come Monday morning the drug that he’d requested – along with a few other necessities, including an inexpensive smartphone and a pre-paid burner flip phone – had been delivered in a large, padded brown envelope to his home address. It was convenient to not have had to travel to the post office in the next town over, but also a clear warning: the Pit knew where Brady lived, so he had better not get in their way.

Whatever. If they followed through on their end, then they had nothing to worry about. The cool thousand a month that Brady could make with just his website until Dean graduated was chump change compared to the check that the Pit was offering to cut him.

Currently in his office that same Monday afternoon, feet kicked up on his desk, Brady was eating from a bag of chips with one hand. In his other was the empty glass vial that the drug had come in. It had a rubber stopper that he’d had to stab through with a syringe to extract the liquid and squirt it into the omega’s water. He could have given it via injection, but that would have hit Dean's system too fast; Brady had needed a buffer to prevent Dean from turning into a raging slut before he'd left the building for lunch.

There was a hormone called imperitonin that was present in omega slick but that alphas couldn't produce themselves, and imperitonin deficiency was what caused rut in alphas. The drug that Brady had dosed Dean with was an imperitonin-inhibitor; it prevented imperitonin from being released from the hormone's transport proteins and absorbed by the cells. The artificial imperitonin crash that this caused would trigger a temporary rut in any alpha that was dosed with the drug, one that would last as long as it took the drug to work its way out of the alpha's system.

This drug had been synthesized in the late twentieth century and had been thought to be largely useless for a decade after its discovery. After all, there was no discernable benefit to drugging a man into becoming a violent fucking machine (though the drug had, of course, been immediately appropriated for use in pornography).

However, a minor accident during the filming of a porno – or so the story went – had led to a new scientific discovery: the drug worked on omegas, too.

Since omegas were simple creatures and society already knew pretty much everything about them that it needed to, there wasn't much scientific curiosity about omega biology or psychology. Omegas were, fundamentally, nothing more than imperitonin dispensers. They were made to pleasure alphas so that they could produce imperitonin for them; the scientific community hadn't ever thought to dig further into it.

Finding out that the drug worked on omegas as well, however, had revealed something previously unknown: that omegas needed imperitonin to function just as much as alphas did. So, if you dosed one to be imperitonin-deficient, it succumbed to something very similar to an alpha rut.

There was one main difference, though, between the symptoms of imperitonin deficiency in alphas and omegas: instead of going on a rampage of fucking peoples' brains out, imperitonin-deficient omegas became crazed with the insatiable need to be filled. The drug had earned its street name from the term chosen to label this omega-specific condition: "heat".

Heat was still used occasionally off-label on both alphas and omegas in porn, as well as given to omegas by their Alphas just for fun. In the modern day, however, the main on-label use for the drug was as therapy for unruly omegas. Apparently, forcing a defiant omega into heat for days on end while keeping it isolated and strapped down to a table in an omega correction facility was an effective therapy.

At least, it was effective if your goal wasn’t so much a sane omega as an obedient one; one that demurely (catatonically) accepted its purpose.

Brady rolled the little glass vial between his fingers as he leisurely finished his lunch. He’d given Dean enough of the drug to last a couple of hours. Brady knew that the little fucktoy liked to eat his lunch out past the soccer field, and once the drug had hit, the omega’s heat-addled brain would have made his nose lead him straight to the nearest cock. Given the timing of the high school baseball team's practice today, there wasn't a doubt in Brady's mind where the little fucktoy had ended up. 

Brady was sure that the high-schoolers were keeping the omega busy, so he’d wait a little bit. There was no rush.

He was going to savor this.

—

Brady headed towards the locker rooms in high spirits. Knowing that Dean wouldn’t be returning for his fifth period free use or afternoon classes, Brady had grabbed Dean’s backpack from the cubby and was carrying it on his shoulder along with his own duffel. 

He found the omega’s discarded lunch box and cell phone in the grassy soccer field, and took a few minutes to clone the cell phone with the cheap smartphone that he’d received from the Pit. Once finished, Brady tucked the clone into his pocket and Dean's phone and lunch box into the fucktoy's backpack before entering the locker room, half-hard with anticipation.

The smell hit him right away. It wasn't just the normal boys’-locker-room smell: it was the reek of cum and slick and arousal. The scent itself wasn't appetizing, but the stuffed little omega on the bench was.

Dean was laid out on his back wearing a cheerleader uniform. He was dripping with sweat with his arms bound under the bench beneath him, though his long legs were free; he had them curled up, knees pointing towards his chin. His shins were glistening with sweat, his freckled thighs slippery with other fluids and quivering with exhaustion and need as his hips twisted and bucked. Instinctively humping up against the air, Dean’s slutty body was trying without success to get the inanimate objects in his packed cunt to fuck him. Tears were streaming down his red cheeks, but any noises that he made were muffled by a scrap of fabric that he was chewing on. Looked like a pair of dirty underwear.

Brady closed the door to the locker room and locked it behind him with the key on his lanyard.

“What do we have here?” he asked, approaching the bench, fingers itching to touch. The little fucktoy’s stomach was bulging with round, baseball-sized lumps, but jutting out of the messy rim of his insatiable omega hole was the heel of a dirty baseball cleat.

The young fucktoy made an eager, desperate noise and wiggled his narrow little hips at the sound of a male voice. Brady indulgently reached out and used his calloused hands to spread apart the omega’s filthy asscheeks, nearly giddy at the sight of that well-used, public hole flexing around some high schooler’s unwanted shoe. It had probably belonged to one of the junior varsity players, a men’s size six or seven. Visibly tattered, it was caked with baseball infield dirt and streaked with grass stains. 

Brady spotted the shoe’s twin discarded in the trash can near the toilet stalls and felt a throb of heat in his gut. His dick twitched. He traced his thumbs around the omega's slick rim, watched the way that it contracted around the fabric upper and the hard rubber sole of the dirty shoe.

From garbage hole to equipment storage unit, then back to garbage hole again.

“My, my. Looks like someone’s been a very bad boy.”

He took his hands away – much to Dean’s confusion and despair – in order to capture a few photos with his phone before unpacking his tripod from his duffel bag and setting it up nearby. He started recording and then stepped back towards the bench. He pulled the fabric gag from between Dean’s chewing teeth.

With faux concern, Brady asked, “What happened? You missed your second free use period, you know. They had to call in your substitute.”

“Help!” Dean panted, rocking his hips to tilt his holes up towards the figure between his legs. He could just barely recognize Brady's distorted silhouette as something that could give him what his heat-ridden body craved.

“Hmm. You’re in quite the predicament," Brady mused, tapping his chin thiughtfully. "Let me give you a hand.”

Brady hooked his fingers into the heel of the shoe that was lodged in Dean’s little body and slowly pulled it from the clutches of that tiny pink cunt. The young fucktoy keened and shuddered as the hard protrusions of the cleats dragged across his vulnerable inner walls and passed over his glistening rim.

Unable to help himself, Brady indulged Dean by fucking the shoe back into him a few times. Then, satisfied, he finally discarded it onto the floor beside the bench with a wet splatter.

“There you go. Now, why don’t you squeeze those baseballs out for me? I'd pull them out myself, but it'd be breaking the rules.”

“Cock?” Dean asked, wiggling his hips again and flaring his hungry little gape. “Cock now?”

Sighing, Brady shook his head and put his palms down on the incoherent fucktoy’s bulging stomach.

“No cock. You need to get these things out of you. Here, like this…”

He pressed down with his hands until he could feel the distinct, individual forms of the baseballs under Dean’s skin. He started to maneuver a few of them down towards the fuckhole's exit. The pressure seemed to trigger something internally, and Dean gasped and grunted as the walls of his packed channel convulsed and tightened. Brady felt the cluster of balls shift downwards, and a moment later the baseballs – slimy with a mixture of slick and cum – shot one by one out of the spasming hole.

Each baseball exited in much the same way: the little gape of Dean's swollen entrance throbbed and then bulged with the press of the baseball from inside it, the quivering flesh easily stretching taut before it yielded. Every ball – a little muddy, slick having wetted their dusty coating – was spit out with an obscene slurp. The balls plopped wetly from the pouting mouth of the used cunt to the tiled floor with little splats and then rolled across the room, settling against the far wall and leaving snail-trails in their wakes.

Brady didn’t bother counting, but it was roughly ten baseballs, all in all. He thought that the high schoolers probably could have fit more if they’d really gone for it.

“There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

He got down on his knees beside the writhing omega and pried at the knots of the resistance bands that were binding his arms until they loosened enough to be untied. As soon as his wrists were freed, Dean rolled off the bench and hit the floor hard on his knees and elbows. Brady raised his eyebrows, but the fucktoy didn’t cry or seem to register the painful collision at all; he just crawled over to Brady’s feet and then reached up to paw at the man’s hard cock through his pants.

“Cock now, now now now,” Dean begged. A thick string of slick appeared from underneath his pleated skirt, dripping out of his used hole and stretching all the way down to the floor between his knees.

Brady had to admit that the little omega fucktoy looked kind of cute in the itty-bitty cheerleader outfit. His Alpha should send him to school in slutty skirts and tight shirts all the time; give them all something nice to look at.

“I can’t give you cock,” Brady told Dean, a patient tone belying the excitement swelling in his chest and in his dick. “That’s against the rules, remember?”

The heat-addled omega whimpered and shook his head. Brady let him continue to squeeze his fat cock through the fabric of his pants; Dean was frantically trying to find a way to extricate Brady’s hot length from his closed fly with clumsy fingers that had forgotten what a zipper was.

“Now now now...” Dean pressed his open mouth to the front of Brady’s pants and whined. “Cock now…”

“Ew,” Brady said, pushing the omega’s face away with undue force. Dean tumbled onto his back on the floor with a shocked yelp, leaving a wet patch of saliva on the front of Brady’s pants. “Don’t touch me with that used-up hole; I don’t know what’s been in there, but it smells rank.”

Confused and desperate, Dean reached down and used his trembling fingers to pry apart the heated rim of his worn cunt. “Cock here? In here? Cock now?”

Brady shook his head. “It’s against the rules,” he said, enunciating each word slowly as if to try to get them through the slut’s thick skull. “You wanna follow the rules, right?”

Dean shook his head. “No, no rules! Please please please…”

Internally, Brady grinned.

“No rules, huh?” He reached down to grab and adjust himself vulgarly, watching Dean’s dark eyes follow the path of his hand; watching those blown pupils dilate further as they saw the outline of Brady’s big dick twitch behind the fabric of his pants.

“You know, it takes a lot to hold myself back around that slutty body of yours," Brady told him lowly. "I’m only human. If you keep flaunting those holes at me and begging like that, I’m really not gonna be able to control myself.”

Dean’s face brightened and he nodded, his inner walls fluttering eagerly. “Now! Now now now, no rules! Cock now! Now please!”

His slutty hole fluttered and blurted slick, and Brady tightened his grip around his dick with a groan.

“Fuck,” he hissed, shaking his head. “I don’t wanna do this, y’know, but I can’t help myself. Not if you’re gonna keep begging like that and showing off your slutty body.” 

He unbuttoned his fly and slowly pulled down the zipper. Brady made a show of unwrapping his cock for the sheer pleasure of watching the young fucktoy’s heat-dumb eyes light up and his tongue lick across his plush, swollen lips as he drooled for it. 

“This is your fault, you know? You’re making me do this. Fucking slut.”

And Dean just nodded his head earnestly and smiled up at him from the grimy floor with his eager hole spread widely between his small hands.

Brady wasn't usually into the whole enthusiastic consent thing, but it was still pretty hot knowing that the tears would come later.

“Alright, then. Here we go.”

Brady reached down and grabbed Dean by one of his small wrists, yanking him up until he could drag Dean, stumbling, over to bend him over one of the sinks. Brady kicked the young fucktoy’s feet apart until Dean’s lower back was curved enticingly.

“Put your hands down here,” Brady instructed, grabbing Dean’s wrists and positioning them under the sink where he wanted them to be. Brady pulled a length of rope from his duffel and used it to bind Dean’s wrists together to the drainpipe. The position left Dean bent in half over the sink with his chest flush with the rim, his chin hovering over the low-profile faucet, and his hips jutting obscenely backwards.

“Mmmh,” Dean hummed, pulling slightly against the restraints. 

Brady shoved his own pants and briefs down over his legs and then stepped out of them, kicking them aside. Then he reached out and flipped up the back of Dean’s skirt, shoving it up and out of the way until that pert ass was on full show. Brady knocked the omega’s knees further apart, salivating at the sight of that tight, virgin asshole clenching just above the sloppy gape of the fucktoy’s used-up cunt.

Brady’s hands were actually shaking when he reached out to grab the fucktoy’s asscheeks and spread them further apart. His thumbs rubbed over Dean’s twitching asshole, moving gently across the wrinkled furl.

“In?” Dean suggested, pushing his hips back. Brady heard the fucktoy’s blown-out cunt make a sloppy noise as its walls clenched, mouthing hopefully at the empty air.

“This disgusting omega hole of yours is too filthy for me to put my cock inside,” Brady said meanly. “I’m not fucking that.”

Dean made a wordless noise of frustration and pushed back again into Brady’s palms. “No! In in in! In now! Cock now!” he demanded.

Brady gave Dean’s left asscheek a hearty slap, delighting in the glowing red handprint that he left behind. Dean cowered and whimpered. 

“It wouldn't be right to force me to fuck your disgusting omega hole when I don't want to,” he reprimanded. “That’s assault, you know.” 

He soothed his hand over the mark that it had left, petting Dean’s flank as if the omega were a spooked animal and not a worthless sex toy. Dean hesitantly leaned into the touch and then pushed his hips back again, insistent, slick trailing down his legs all the way to the floor.

“But if you really want my cock, I can take your other hole,” Brady said, voice deep and throaty as anticipation built in his chest. He returned a thumb to press against the tight ring of Dean’s unused ass. “This one’s good. It’s not all used-up and gross. It hasn't been packed full of other cocks or garbage. You want me to stick my cock in here?”

“Yes!” Dean nodded without a moment of hesitation, becoming more restless and needy as the man’s touch burned like fire on his shivering skin. It didn't matter what Brady was saying, all that mattered was making the burning tickling fire licking at his insides stop. “Cock now please! In! In in in…”

“How can I say no to that?” Brady asked, and then he took his cock in hand and touched his leaking slit to Dean’s clenched asshole.

With a deep breath, Brady closed his eyes for a moment of mindfulness. To really be present; to appreciate the here and now. To relish in the feeling of the sticky tiles under the rubber soles of his shoes, the air against his bare thighs, the fragile knobs of Dean’s tailbone shifting under his hand. The dry warmth of the omega’s virgin asshole twitching against the head of his cock.

This little fucktoy had been used by (probably) hundreds of different people (certainly) thousands of different times, and Brady was about to be the first to use its ass. Gratitude didn't even begin to cover the emotion that was flooding through him and filling his dick until he could barely see straight.

“In in in–” Dean’s bratty chant was cut off by a grunt as Brady finally forced his way past that tight ring of clenching muscle and into the fucktoy's guts.

“Fuuuck,” Brady groaned, watching his thick cock wedge deep into the omega’s no-longer-virgin hole. He'd used ample lube – his favorite kind, which he'd brought from home – during that free use period to prepare the little hole for this very moment. It'd been some time since he'd fucked the lube into Dean’s ass with the steel school plug earlier, but there was just enough left to prevent Brady's shaft from chafing.

Not enough to prevent it from hurting Dean, though.

Dean choked out a sob and struggled against the ropes binding his wrists, and Brady closed his eyes and tilted his head back and let his momentum carry his hips forward until his cock was fully sheathed inside that helpless little body. He could feel the fucktoy’s open cunt fluttering and sucking at his heavy balls, coating them in warmth and wetness while his cock was enveloped by the spasming clutch of unexplored guts.

“Hurts!” Dean gasped, tears sliding down his flushed cheeks like slick was sliding down his inner thighs, and Brady’s eyes met Dean’s in the mirror. 

He drew back slowly, watching Dean’s expression tighten with a grimace as the nearly-dry friction of Brady’s fat length – significantly bigger than the school-issued plug was – almost pulled the fucktoy's guts out along with it.

Brady dragged all the way out until that tight entrance relinquished his flushed cockhead with a pop, feeling dizzy with delight and power as he caught a glimpse of those deep red inner walls before that little ring of muscle closed again. Then he shoved back in.

“Ughh,” Dean grunted as Brady’s cock forced itself cruelly back into his under-prepared ass.

Brady watched the fucktoy’s lower lip wobble in the mirror, watched his eyes squeeze closed as his mouth dropped open, plush pink lips forming a little O. Dean’s breath misted against the glass. The freckles on his cheeks and chest were overtaken by blush. His pulse was visible in his neck, delicate and quick as a frightened rabbit’s. Brady wanted to break him completely.

The slap of flesh against flesh echoed loudly in the locker room. Brady set up a brutal pace as he pumped his hips. His thick cock disappeared again and again into Dean’s body, splitting him open and making him wail. It was ecstacy, getting to taste what he'd been craving for so long; getting to take what even the omega’s Alpha hadn’t yet touched.

Dean’d had countless fingers and cocks and hands in his cunt over the years, but no one had ever taken him like this before. Brady was the first.

As he felt himself nearing his climax, Brady paused for a moment to grab at his lanyard. He pulled it off over his head and then used one of the keys that he kept on it to unlock the omega’s little cock cage. After a few moments of fumbling, there was a click and the steel cage fell to the floor with a clatter. Dean let out an animalistic keen, his little cock filling immediately and his inner muscles tensing.

Brady hissed as the fucktoy’s tight ass clamped down around his cock. Hips stuttering, he adjusted the angle of his thrusts and, with a high-pitched moan, Dean’s eyes rolled up into the back of his head. The little fucktoy came hard, shaking so intensely that he rattled the sink, shooting slick from his newly-hard cock down into the puddle that had pooled between his legs.

Dean’s limbs turned to jelly and he collapsed. All of his weight fell onto the rim of the sink which, wonderfully, kept him at the right height for Brady to continue fucking into him.

Despite his lack of consciousness the helpless fucktoy continued to tremble, limp limbs twitching and insides convulsing as his small body was wracked with relentless orgasms. A low whining sound was bubbling up from between Dean’s slack lips, drool overflowing from his mouth and only a sliver of green iris visible beneath his half-closed eyelids. 

With interest, Brady continued to thrust leisurely against that sweet spot in Dean’s ass. Every pass of his cockhead over it seemed to trigger a new wave of spasming climaxes. The unconscious, insensate omega was poised on a hair trigger. It delighted Brady to watch and – when he finally came, shooting his load deep into Dean’s used guts – to feel the helpless internal convulsions wringing every last drop of cum from his satisfied cock.

Brady leaned down and dropped his forehead onto Dean’s sweaty shoulder with a sigh, relishing the sensation of his cock softening inside of the young fucktoy’s limp body. After resting like that for a minute to catch his breath, he nipped at the shell of Dean’s ear and then closed his mouth around Dean’s scent gland, sucking on it harshly until the fucktoy’s body shuddered and Dean let out a little whimper and came again.

Brady’s sizeable cock, now flaccid and slick with his own cum, slid easily out of Dean's tight ass. Brady walked over to his duffel bag and pulled out the bar of special soap that he'd brought and then – in the sink next to the one that Dean was still tied to – cleaned his dick and legs of the various fluids that had coated him during Dean’s use. Then, Brady walked over to the tripod and ended the video before returning to the sink and the omega’s unconscious body. 

Before untying him, Brady took a few photos of Dean’s swollen, reddened asshole and the trickle of his own cum that was leaking from the softened ring of muscle and down Dean’s perineum into his gaping cunt. Dean's pretty, slack face was visible in the reflection of the mirror.

It was a sight to behold, and the photos from this session would stay in Brady's private collection.

—

Dean awoke slowly as if rising to consciousness through a pool of gelatin. His entire body was sore, between his legs most of all. It took several tries to open his eyelids because his lashes were stuck together.

His head ached from the bright lights and he squinted against the glare while he struggled to push himself up into a half-seated position. When Dean finally got his bearings and looked around, it was to find himself lying naked on the floor of the locker room showers. His skin was damp, his hair wet. He shivered.

When Dean tried to sit fully upright, he had to muffle a groan behind his hand as his weight fell onto his butt. He looked down and saw beneath the soft, gentle swell of his belly the bases of two silicone plugs: one in his ass and one in his cunt. Through his dizzy confusion, it took Dean a moment to realize how wrong that was and then another to recognize the strange sensation inside him as the cramping of an enema, accompanied by a stinging, chemical burning that brought tears to his eyes.

“Finally awake, I see. I filled your holes up with a cleaning solution. It’ll neutralize the scents inside you; no one will be able to tell you were filled with beta cum. Just let it stew for another twenty minutes and then you can drain it into the toilet.”

Dean turned his head to see Coach Brady sitting in a chair at the entrance to the showers, watching him. The beta man's hair was damp too, a used towel thrown around his neck. Dean whimpered, one hand cupping over his swollen belly and the other going lower to cup the base of the plug in his ass.

It wasn't the school-issued plug. It was… It was breaking the rules. And Dean couldn't remember how he'd gotten here. Or could he? There were flashes in his mind: a strange sensation spreading through his body, a crowd of faceless boys, an unbearable need to be… filled…

… Cocks in his mouth and in his…

“I… I’ll tell m-my Alpha,” Dean said softly, not managing to raise his voice above a whisper.

“Don’t you remember what happened?” Coach Brady asked, and Dean shook his head slowly. 

“I found you in here, stuffed full and covered inside and out with beta cum. Being the responsible teacher I am, I helped empty you out and tried to get you presentable, but you were insatiable. You demanded that I give you my cock; you wouldn’t let me say no. You made me." He gestured down at the silicone plugs. "I had to fuck your ass because your cunt was too gross for me to put my dick in there, but it's alright; you begged me to.”

Dean continued to shake his head, feeling his body start to shiver. Coach Brady leaned forward in his seat.

“There aren’t many omegas who are so depraved that they’ll beg for a beta to take what belongs to only their Alpha, you know. I don’t think your Alpha would be pleased if he found out that you were so disloyal, so misbehaved. Such a bad boy.”

“I don’t remember doing that,” Dean whispered in objection, voice colored both by denial and fear. Coach Brady sighed and dragged his hand down his face. He looked at Dean with a raised eyebrow.

“You really don’t remember?” Dean shook his head. “Good thing I recorded the whole thing, then… It was insurance just in case you ended up playing coy and pretending I stole you or something, but I guess it works this way, too…”

The coach fiddled with his cell phone and a moment later he was holding up the screen to show Dean a video recording.

Dean watched in wide-eyed horror as a slut that looked just like him wearing a cheerleader outfit begged on hands and knees for the beta coach to stuff it with his cock. He watched as the disobedient omega in the video fondled Coach Brady through his pants; watched as it tried to convince the man to fill its mouth or its cunt. Watched as it openly demanded that Coach Brady break the rules and fuck its ass.

“What’s wrong with m-me?” Dean asked, blinking back tears. They escaped his eyes anyway and fell down his cheeks. “Why am I… I don’t remember that. W-what’s wrong with me?”

“If you really don’t remember, then there’s only one explanation…” Coach Brady tapered off, eyeing Dean appraisingly, and only continued when Dean made a little whimper in the back of his throat. “I’ve just never seen it happen to an omega so young before.”

Dread filled up Dean’s roiling, stinging insides. “What?” he asked fearfully, mouth dry.

“It’s called slick sickness,” Coach Brady explained. “It’s a disease that only omegas can get, and only if the omega is a really horrible slut that enjoys getting used too much." He nodded seriously at Dean's shell-shocked expression. "Really bad omegas like that, like you, make so much slick that it seeps out of your omega hole and goes all the way up to your brain. It makes you go crazy.”

“L-like, um, slick-addlement?” Dean asked softly. Coach Brady shook his head.

“Worse than that. Slick-addlement just makes you dumb; pretty much all omegas get that. Only really bad omegas get slick sickness, though. It makes you even sluttier. It makes you not care about alpha pleasure or even beta pleasure; only about your own. It makes you beg for any cock you can get your slutty little holes on, even your ass and face-holes. Even against your Alpha’s wishes.”

Body trembling, Dean wrapped his arms around himself and squeezed his thighs together. He felt the large plugs shift inside of him and the sting of whatever liquid was marinating his insides and the twist and roil of his filled guts. He knew that he was a slut, but he hadn’t known he was such a bad one.

(That wasn’t true; Dean had known. He was the sluttiest omega that anyone had ever seen, after all; that's what they all said. He just hadn't known what that might mean. What might happen to him.)

“Is. Is there medicine?” he asked. Maybe, if... If he told his dad. Dean would get in trouble, but Dad would understand. He wouldn’t be angry. And then he could take Dean to see Dr. Roberts, and Dr. Roberts could give him something to make him a good boy again.

But Coach Brady shook his head.

“There’s no cure for it, I’m afraid,” he informed Dean regretfully. “You can try to manage it a little, but once you develop it you’ve got it for good.” He put his elbow on his thigh and propped his chin on his fist. “It’s too bad. You know, I think I might actually miss you.”

Through the miserable haze of his despair, Dean frowned in confusion and looked up at the coach, who raised his eyebrows.

“Oh yeah,” Coach Brady said. “I guess you wouldn’t know.” He leaned forward, eyes alight with something dark. “Omegas with slick sickness get sent away. They’re too slutty and depraved to be satisfied living with just one Alpha, you see, so for their own good they get permanently installed in public use facilities so they can have their slutty hole filled nonstop.”

His eyes roamed up and down the planes of Dean’s naked body, lingering on his soft penis and the bulge of the fat plugs in his used holes. He licked his lips before continuing.

“They usually ship you to another state. Your Alpha won’t be told where you get installed; best to make it a clean break, you know, so he can mourn his loss and move on. He’ll be compensated, of course.” 

At Dean’s horrified expression, Coach Brady reached down to comfortingly pet his damp hair. 

“There, there. I’m sure you’ll miss your family at first, but after a few weeks of nonstop use, the slick sickness will really take over… You won’t even remember you ever had a family to begin with.”

Heart racing with desperation, Dean could think of nothing in that moment other than his dad and little brother. He couldn’t leave them! He couldn’t! He would rather die!

Dean was on his knees in an instant, grabbing pleadingly at Coach Brady’s clothes, green eyes wide and shining with urgent tears.

“Please!” he begged. “Please, don’t tell anyone! Please, Coach Brady! I’m sorry I made you use my hole! I’m sorry I was such a horrible slut! I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I’ll do anything, please! Please please please–”

Coach Brady grabbed Dean’s thin wrists in his big hands and pulled them away from his clothes, pushing Dean back down to the wet, slimy floor of the showers. Dean fell heavily onto the base of the plugs and they jolted painfully inside him; his intestines cramped and he burst into tears. The older man watched him in contemplative silence for a few minutes as he cried.

Finally, the coach spoke up.

“I must be getting weak if those crocodile tears are working on me, but I suppose I can keep your dirty secret. On one condition.”

Dean hiccupped and sniffled, attempting to even his breathing and blink back his tears. He wiped his wet face with the back of his arms and looked up at Coach Brady with reddened eyes. The coach leaned forwards.

“You have to let me use you however I want, whenever I want. You’ve been taunting me with that slutty body of yours – with that slutty ass of yours – for too long. Now that you’ve forced me to taste it, I can’t give it up. I can’t watch you wag your slutty ass at me in free use period everyday and know what it feels like inside and not use it. You get that, right? It would drive me fucking crazy.”

Dean nodded dumbly, a knot the size of his father’s swollen in his throat.

“So I won’t tell anyone that you’re sick or what a bad boy you’ve been. But in exchange, you’ll be my bad boy. Got it?”

Dean was already such a bad boy, such a terrible slut. He'd already broken the rules, and if he was sick like Coach Brady had said then he'd just end up breaking them again. His slutty body got used so very often by so very many different people, so... So would it really be that much worse? To be Coach Brady's bad boy in exchange for staying with Dad and Sammy?

Dad maybe would say it was okay anyway, Dean tried to reason with himself. His dad gave permission for betas to use him all the time.

And Dean was sure that if it was a choice between Dean being taken away and him being used by the beta coach, then Dad would let Coach Brady use him a million billion times over. Dean was sure of it; Dad wouldn't want him to go away, not even if he knew that Dean was bad like this. Not even if he knew that Dean was sick like this. Dean was sure that his dad would approve of his choice.

It wasn't even a choice, though, was it? Not really. Not when there could never be any other answer.

"Clock's ticking, fucktoy," Coach Brady said. "You gonna be my bad boy, or are you gonna say goodbye to Alpha and go be a 24/7 free use installation somewhere in Idaho?"

Helpless, Dean trembled and whispered, "I'm gonna be your bad boy, Coach Brady."

Chapter 25: Swimming Hole

“C’mere, cher. Give me your arm.”

Dean held out his left hand and Benny’s warm fingers closed gently around his wrist, thumb running over the red marks that wrapped around it. Dean had gotten two weeks of in-school suspension for skipping his afternoon classes and free use periods on Monday, so he’d ended each day that week covered in rope marks. He didn't like the in-school suspension, but he liked how Benny took care of him afterwards on the days that he didn't have track.

“I’m real excited for tomorrow,” Benny said as he rubbed lotion tenderly into Dean’s skin. “Been lookin’ forward to it all week.”

On Saturday, they were finally going to go for the drive that Benny had invited Dean on a week ago. Dean had been worried that Dad would keep him grounded this weekend, too, after getting in trouble on Monday, but luckily Dad had thought that two weeks of in-school was overkill for Dean’s first offense and wasn’t piling on too much.

“Heaven knows I skipped a class or ten when I was your age,” Dad had said wryly. “Never got more than a day of detention for it, either. Not saying I condone this behavior, Deano, but I think that principal is going too hard on you. You'll do your inflation training every day this week and I'm adding a half-pound to your depth training, but you can have your trip with Benny, alright? ”

And Dean was excited, too; it would be the most time he'd ever spent hanging out with Benny at once. They had the whole day together, and Dad was even letting him spend the night.

“It's gonna be so fun!” Dean nodded eagerly. “I'm gonna bring DVDs! My favorites! And pizza money, so we have to get meat lover’s for half of it even if you don’t like it!”

Benny laughed and then took Dean’s other arm to tend to. “You sure you want pizza? We could get chicken wings instead.”

Dean scowled. “Everyone eats pizza at sleepovers,” he insisted authoritatively.

Then, suddenly nervous, he bit his lip; he hadn't meant to be so loud and bratty, and besides, he didn't even really know what people ate at real sleepovers. He just knew them from the movies.

“I mean, we can get chicken wings if you want to,” Dean amended, but Benny shook his head.

“I was just teasin’ you, little brother. We can get whatever you want for dinner. I'm makin’ us sandwiches for lunch, though. You got everythin’ you need to bring? Water bottle, sunglasses, swimsuit, towel? Change of clothes? You can use my sunscreen, if you need to.”

Dean smiled and nodded. Benny was taking Dean to a lake somewhere. He'd given the GPS coordinates to Dad for safety and to get his approval, but he wanted Dean to be surprised.

“Yeah, and Dad’s letting me borrow his duffel. Don’t got a swimsuit, though. Omegas don't wear any.”

Benny’s grip faltered just slightly around Dean’s wrist. “My bad, cher. I don't really go to public pools. I’d forgotten.”

Dean shrugged and smiled reassuringly. “It’s okay.” 

Dean didn't go swimming much, either. There was something freaky about treading water when someone could come up from beneath him and surprise him with a diving toy in his cunt, and Dad always made him wear floaties. It was so that Dean wouldn’t be in danger of drowning when an alpha tried to use him in the water, but it was still super embarrassing since even Sam didn't have to use a kickboard anymore.

The last time that Dean had been swimming, actually, was during the day camp he went to with Sam over the summer. There’d been a pretty big lake, and it’d been hot enough that Dean hadn't minded the dreaded floaties as long as he could be in the water. What he had minded was when a couple of the older betas had held his legs open while an alpha in Sam’s year had forced a wiggling bullfrog into his hole. 

Dean had cried with humiliation and disgust, choking on scummy lake water and trying to keep his head above the water level while his hands sank fruitlessly into the mud beneath him. He'd tried so hard to fight his conditioning and to not squeeze down, because he'd wanted the frog out but he hadn't wanted it to get hurt. The little alpha boy had kept the frog inside with the palm of his hand firmly sealing Dean’s entrance, while the older beta boy and girl holding his legs open had laughed at his discomfort. The sensation of something alive squirming inside his omega hole had nearly made Dean faint.

The scene had drawn a small gaggle of fascinated onlookers (mercifully not Sam, though; it would have been mortifying to have had his little brother see him like that). They hadn't let Dean go until he'd been sick all over himself, hacking up algae and bile down his chest. He'd cried again when the frog had mercifully wriggled out of his convulsing insides and swam away, relieved that his slutty body hadn't killed it.

Dean wasn't worried about swimming with Benny, though. Because Benny was nice and he didn't ever tease Dean. When he wanted to use Dean’s hole, he wouldn't surprise him from below or put weird things inside. He’d be gentle and he’d just use his fingers or his cock.

Though of course, if Benny did want to use anything else, even if it was weird, that'd be okay too. He'd be real gentle and tell Dean what a good boy he was and cuddle him afterwards, Dean was sure. Whatever Benny wanted, Dean would do his best to please him.

–

Sam was jealous that Dean was going out and having fun without him, so he clung to Dean’s side all Saturday morning until Benny came. When Benny finally did ring the doorbell, Dean gave his little brother a noogie until he squealed and finally relinquished his tight grasp on Dean’s shirt.

Dean bounded immediately to his feet and grabbed his packed duffel bag from the foot of the stairs while Dad opened the front door to greet Benny and Sam pouted nearby. When they bid their goodbyes, Dad gave Dean a kiss on the forehead and ruffled his hair, while Sam pulled Dean down to give him a wet kiss on the lips (giving Benny the stink-eye all the while while the older boy looked on, bemused).

“C’mon, freak, don’t get all clingy. I’ll hang out with you tomorrow,” Dean said, messing up Sam’s floppy brown hair. Sam made an upset noise and clung tightly to him, then tried to worm his fingers up into Dean's cunt through the gap in his omega shorts. But Dad rolled his eyes and pulled Sam away.

“Sammy, you had all morning to use his hole. Dean’s going now, so finish saying goodbye.”

Finally, Sam and Dad were back in the house and Dean and Benny were sat in Benny’s truck with the duffel bags tossed in the back with Benny's cooler.

“Sorry about that,” Dean apologized after Benny had pulled away from his driveway and started down the road. “It's kind of the first time I'm spending the night away from home, other than visiting our uncle.” 

He fidgeted a little and fixed his eyes on his knees; he knew that that made him sound like a baby. What kind of middle-schooler had never spent the night away from his dad and little brother? Especially compared to Benny, who was living alone, Dean seemed so inexperienced and immature.

“I don't mind, I get it. Just… I dunno. Kinda hoped your brother would've warmed up to me a little, after that dinner.”

Benny’s hand came into Dean’s field of vision, settling warmly on his thigh and squeezing gently. Dean looked up and saw a self-conscious grimace on Benny’s face, his blue eyes fixed on the road. Hesitantly, Dean put his own hand atop Benny’s and squeezed his fingers in response. He watched Benny’s cheeks pink a little.

“He did, I swear. He hasn't been all whiny about me texting you anymore. I think Sammy’s just a little freaked out by me having a… a best friend.” Benny’s hand tightened again, thumb stroking Dean’s knee, and Dean could smell the little burst of pleasure that the words prompted from the alpha and felt encouraged. “He's never had anyone really compete for my attention with him before. He's just a kid, you know?”

“Yeah, I know. If I had the best big brother around and he was suddenly spendin’ time with someone else, I'd probably feel the same way.” Benny sighed. “Just hope he comes around fast. ‘Cause honestly, cher, I’m plannin’ on spendin’ a lot more time with you. Feel like I can't never get enough.”

Dean’s heart thudded in his chest and he felt a grin split his face as he tightened his fingers around Benny’s hand.

At the same time, he felt himself slick up. 

Dean’s scent colored with shame and he cringed; he couldn't believe that he was being so nasty about Benny just wanting to spend time with him. A normal boy wouldn't get all cock-hungry just because his friend was being nice; Dean really was a depraved slut.

When he tried to pull his hand away, however, Benny turned his palm to face the roof of the car and grabbed Dean's hand back, entwining their fingers and holding it firmly.

“I’d kiss that sad little frown back into a smile right now if I wasn't drivin’,” Benny said. “You ain’t ever have to feel ashamed of your body around me, cher. I know when you get slick like that it just means you're happy, not anythin’ else. So it makes me happy, too.”

Blush colored Dean from his chest to his ears and more slick blurted from his giddy cunt. No one had ever said anything to him like that before; no one had ever suggested that maybe Dean’s hole sometimes got slick for reasons other than him being slutty. He wasn't sure that Benny was right about that – he was a disgusting slut, after all, and he had the slick sickness to prove it – but all the same. Something struck in Dean’s chest, a chord that had never been played before. There was something deep inside him that felt seen for the very first time.

Nudging Dean with his elbow, Benny added, “And to tell the truth, cher… I think it's kinda cute.”

Benny turned his face to smile softly at him for a moment before returning his eyes to the road, and Dean clutched Benny’s hand and held onto it tightly. He looked away and gazed out the window, pressing his thighs together and trying to will his heart to stop racing.

After a few long minutes of silence, Benny took his hand from Dean’s just long enough to turn on the radio before putting it back down in Dean’s lap, palm up. Dean held it gently but firmly between both of his. Trying to swallow a strangely sudden knot in his throat, he thought to himself that, when Benny got a girlfriend one day soon, whoever she was would be so very lucky.

–

The drive that Benny took him on lasted an hour and a half. The suburban streets of Kansas melted into farmland and then into trees. They talked about camping and fishing and hunting.

Benny, he told Dean, liked to go on long weekend drives to find cool places outdoors that weren't on maps. When he'd left New Orleans, he'd driven through the country without using a single motel, sleeping in the truck or on a bedroll in the truck bed depending on the weather. 

In response, Dean told Benny about how Uncle Bobby took him and Sam fishing when they visited, and tried to take them hunting once but not again after both him and Sam were too soft to let him kill the doe. And about how he was an ace with a pistol, even though he was an omega.

“Dad says I shoot like an alpha,” he boasted. “Once, I was keeping him warm at the pool hall while Sam was at a sleepover, and he was bragging about me to some alphas and they bet him $200 that I’d be too slickbrained to hit a bottle. But we went out back and he set up a line and gave me his .45 and I hit all seven.” 

The alphas had been so pissed that they’d shoved Dean to his hands and knees right there in the alley and fucked Dean with their beer bottles afterwards (but thankfully not the broken ones, since Dad was there to stop them when they tried). But it’d been worth it, and Dad had told Dean that he was proud of him and cleaned off his bruised knees and palms and then used his hole real gently when they were finished, and let him keep all of the money for himself. It'd been a really nice day.

Benny kept his hand in Dean’s for pretty much the whole drive, except at the end when he pulled off the road and drove a ways into the trees. He drove carefully along an overgrown, beaten path with both hands on the wheel, and Dean laughed as he bounced up and down in the passenger seat as the truck drove over deep potholes.

Finally, the truck exited the trees and went down a short hill and around a large boulder. Suddenly, Dean was looking out the windshield at a beautiful swimming hole nestled in a rocky outcrop. It overlooked a grassy yellow field dotted with green trees.

“Wow,” he breathed as Benny slowed the truck to a stop next to an old, dry tree stump. He gazed around the place with wide eyes, taking in the sunny shore and the tranquil green water. There were wildflowers swaying in the long yellow grass, and there was even a small waterfall spilling down the rocky wall feeding the swimming hole.

“D’you like it?” Benny asked, and Dean finally looked back to Benny to see the older boy gazing at him.

“I love it, Benny,” Dean said emphatically. “It’s so cool. Thank you for bringing me.”

Benny smiled and, taking Dean’s face in one hand, leaned over to kiss him tenderly. Dean tilted his face up to allow it, feeling warmth in his chest and slick between his legs, and he wondered if Benny would put his fingers inside him now or sit him on his cock. But Benny didn't, he just pulled back to look at Dean’s face again and then leaned in for a final kiss – licking just briefly between Dean’s parted lips – before turning away to climb out of the truck.

Dean touched his fingertips to his tingling lips and wondered if Benny had any other omega friends and if he kissed them as much as he kissed Dean. Omegas were supposed to need to be touched a lot all over their bodies, especially on their public parts, but his family were the only ones who had ever really touched him gently like this before Benny. Benny probably treated all of his omega friends just as kindly and touched them just as sweet; he was so nice. Such a good friend. 

But maybe, Dean hoped – since he was Benny’s best friend – he got treated a little extra special. Maybe Benny kissed him just a little bit more and a little bit longer.

Dean was too scared to ask, though.

–

As soon as Dean climbed out of the truck he raced over to the water and bent down to stick his hand in. The water was cool, and it'd feel good to swim in it under the hot sun. Excited, he turned around to look for Benny and was nearly bowled over by the older boy running into him.

Instead of knocking him bodily into the water, Benny caught Dean about the waist and pulled him tight against his side, and both boys laughed as they found their balance.

“It’s beautiful,” Dean told Benny, and Benny pulled Dean in close so that his back was pressed flush against his front. He wrapped his big arms around Dean’s chest and pressed his nose into Dean’s hair, inhaling deeply.

“It sure is,” he agreed, and Dean reached up to hold onto the alpha’s muscular forearms. 

He could feel Benny’s cock thickening behind him. Benny was already wearing his swimsuit – black shorts with a lighter gray abstract pattern – and the heft of his cock had been visible underneath the thin fabric during the drive. The weight of it was hot and solid now against Dean’s lower back, and Dean widened his stance a bit in case Benny wanted to use his hole to relieve himself.

Benny's hips stuttered, but he didn't thrust between Dean’s legs or slip his fingers through the gap in his omega shorts. He just rubbed his cheek against Dean’s hair and then sighed happily and continued to hold him while they both looked out over the water.

Eventually, Dean tilted his head back to look up at his friend.

“We gonna go swimming now?” he suggested, and Benny chuckled.

“Why, you in a hurry to get outta my arms?” he asked. Dean opened his mouth to apologize, but then realized that Benny was joking and laughed instead. “Sure thing, cher. But… I got somethin’ for you, first.”

“A present?” Dean asked, brightening further. “Really? For me?” He got a little slick with excitement and then tried to play it off and be cool, even though that was kind of impossible since Benny could smell it. “I mean, um, that’s okay, you didn't have to.”

Benny laughed at his reluctant tone and kissed his hair before stepping away. Dean turned around to follow him back towards the truck.

“Don't be so polite. I kinda got it for me, too. Saw them at the store while I was buyin’ my new trunks and… Well, I wanted to see you wearin’ them.”

Ears burning, Dean watched curiously as Benny reached into the truck bed to pull out both of their duffels. The gift was something that he could wear? He wondered what Benny would want to see him in. It wouldn't be… like, lingerie or something, would it? Would Benny want to see Dean in something like that?

Dean kind of hoped not. He wore lingerie for Dad sometimes, but that was just his dad and just as a special treat, and it always made him feel… weird. And he… 

Well, Dean thought that Benny kind of liked that he wasn’t girly. Benny even liked it when Dean’s dick got hard like a normal boy’s. The thought of Benny wanting to see him in something skimpy and lacey… Maybe with his penis hidden and his omega hole on show so that Benny could pretend that it was a girl’s pussy (pretend that Dean was a slutty girl instead of a cocksleeve)... It made Dean’s stomach sink.

But Benny had pulled a little gift bag out of his duffel and was holding it out to him, looking a little nervous and a little hopeful, and so Dean steeled himself and schooled his face into something appreciative. Even if the gift was something girly like lingerie, he’d wear it to please Benny. And it would make Dean happy to please his friend. Dean would like it, he would.

Dean took the gift bag and peered into it, and then felt himself relax when what he saw was definitely not lingerie. He reached inside and pulled out the light piece of clothing and then held it up in front of himself, shaking it out with wide eyes.

It was a pair of swim trunks. Green, with a lighter green abstract pattern of wavy lines. With a start, Dean realized that they were the same pair that Benny was wearing, just in green instead of black.

“Wow,” Dean said, holding the trunks in one hand and running the fingers of his other delicately across the airy fabric. “I’ve never… I…” He swallowed, then whispered, “It’s against the rules.”

It wasn't just that omegas were expected to swim naked: they didn't make swimsuits for omegas. These swim trunks were made for an alpha or a beta boy. They weren’t like Dean’s omega shorts, they didn't have the mandatory slit in the bottom to ensure that Dean’s hole was accessible at all times. Dean’s hole would be covered, it'd be blocked. That wasn't allowed.

“What rules?” Benny asked, and when Dean wouldn't look up at him, he dropped to his knees in the grass in front of him. “We’re out here in the middle of nowhere, cher. No one else around, just you and me.” He reached out and put his hand on Dean’s waist, reaching up with the other to caress Dean’s trembling lower lip. “No one’s gonna know. Just us. And I ain't gonna tell.”

Dean finally raised his eyes from the swim shorts to Benny’s face to see his friend staring back at him with a gentle smile.

“I got them for you ‘cause I thought you'd look real good in them,” Benny said softly. “Saw them and just thought of you. I just... I wanna see you wearin' them.” 

Dean felt himself blush and wanted to hide his face, but Benny didn't let him. He licked his lips nervously, tongue passing over Benny's thumb. He saw Benny’s eyes flicker down to fix on his mouth, saw Benny’s pupils dilate.

“But… My hole will be covered,” Dean whispered.

“I don't mind.” Benny’s thumb brushed over his lips again, his other hand tightening around Dean’s waist and pulling him closer. “If I want to use your sweet hole, I just have to ask, right?”

“Yeah,” Dean said, his voice rough and low, a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. “You just have to ask.” 

The words felt foreign and naughty. Benny wanted this; he wanted Dean to break the rules and wear a swimsuit, one that would keep his hole inaccessible. He wanted to see Dean in them. He wanted to have to ask.

A shiver went through Dean then, the warm kind. Breaking the rules… for Benny. Benny wanted Dean to, it would please him. Dean could be a good boy by being bad. 

Dean wondered dazedly if any other omega in the world had ever felt like this: safe and warm in the middle of nowhere and willing to break the rules for the pleasure of a kind, handsome boy. Maybe Dean was the first.

“So what d’you think?” Benny asked softly, cupping Dean’s cheek. Dean leaned into the warm touch, lashes fluttering as he met his friend’s gaze from underneath heavy-lidded eyes. “Will you wear these for me?”

Dean nodded, fingers tightening around the fabric, and Benny pulled him in closer to press another kiss to his lips that made his heart thud. When Benny pulled away after a long moment, everything seemed bright.

“Should I… Should I put them on now?” Dean asked, and Benny nodded.

“You can go around and get dressed on the other side of the truck. And when you're done, we can help each other put on sunscreen.”

–

Nervous butterflies filled Dean’s stomach as he got undressed behind the truck. Benny wasn’t watching him get naked, which made him feel hidden and secretive. The grass was a little crunchy under his bare feet, and there was a cool breeze that ruffled his hair and passed silkily over his skin. Dean felt himself blushing as he took a deep breath before stepping into the swimsuit.

A pleasant shiver went through his skin as he pulled the swim shorts up over his legs and settled the waistband around his hips. This was the first time in years that Dean’s hole had been covered, other than the two times that his dad had blocked off his hole due to him being too sick or injured for use. And the swimsuit was very different from the humiliating red onesie with the bold, black ‘OUT OF SERVICE’ text printed on the front and back.

Dean felt tall, somehow, standing there in the swim shorts. And strong. He didn't have a mirror to see what he looked like, but he felt… He didn't feel like a little boy or even a fucktoy, he felt like a teenager. He noticed muscles in his thighs and his arms for the first time, noticed that the hair on his legs was darker and thicker than it'd used to be.

The awareness that his hole was covered – that nobody could just slip their fingers or their cock through a slit in his shorts to fuck him – was exciting. He was breaking the rules, but it was out here far from anyone except for Benny, who had asked him to do this. Who had bought these for him because he wanted to see Dean in them, in these naughty swim shorts.

Looking down at himself, Dean thought: if someone looked at him, they wouldn't be able to tell that he was an omega if they couldn't smell him. Omegas don't wear swimsuits, so they'd just assume that he was a normal boy. They'd have no idea of the shameful hole that he was hiding, covered, between his legs.

As Dean continued to think about it, he felt slick bubble out of his cunt and his cock begin to fill, but instead of feeling ashamed he thought of how Benny would like that and it made him even wetter and harder. He blushed and ran his fingers down the legs of the shorts, seeing how he was tenting the thin fabric.

Dean bit his lip and placed his palms flat on his upper thighs, right on either side of his hard-on, and saw it bob a little when he shifted his hips. He wondered if the sight of it would make Benny blush… If Benny’s hands would twitch. If he would have to fight himself not to touch Dean there the way he'd had to that night in his apartment while he'd fucked Dean with his big cock.

“You ready yet, cher?” Benny called out. “I wanna see you.”

“Yeah,” Dean replied shyly.

Dean never felt sexy while he was being used. People didn't use him because they thought he was sexy; they used him because that was what he was for. Half of the times people used him they didn't even try to orgasm, and even when they did… Well, you didn't have to be sexually attracted to a fleshlight in order to get off inside it.

Even when it was his family, it wasn't like this. Sam hadn't even had his first orgasm yet, he just used Dean to bond with him, or for fun or to experiment. And when Dad fucked him, Dean just felt like a little kid because even when when they were roleplaying or Dean was being punished, underneath it all he was still just his dad’s slutty little boy. 

Even when Uncle Bobby used him, it was still Uncle Bobby; Uncle Bobby didn't see him like that, he just liked to take care of Dean’s needy hole to keep his slutty body satisfied since he loved Dean so much.

But Benny. When Dean walked around and stepped out from behind the truck, and Benny saw him, Dean felt… He felt. He felt a way that he'd never felt before.

Benny was looking him up and down, and Dean could see his eyes linger in places where no one had ever really looked at him before; not like that. His eyes roved over Dean’s shoulders, his biceps, his freckled chest. Even though Dean’s belly wasn't bulging with toys or a cock, Benny’s eyes stuck for a moment below his navel where the golden hair was a little thicker. 

It made Dean feel taller, and he stood up straighter, even when Benny’s gaze went lower and he saw the way that Dean was tenting his swim shorts. Benny’s eyes darkened and his cheeks flushed, and Dean could see Benny’s big cock twitch beneath his black swimsuit and it made something swell in Dean’s chest. His inaccessible cunt clenched and he felt slick blurt out, but it was okay… It was okay that Dean was such a slut because Benny didn't mind. Benny liked it. Benny thought that it was cute.

Benny smiled at Dean and he looked so soft just then, sun shining in his short hair and making his eyes as blue as the sky. Dean felt the strangest urge: he wanted to run over and pull Benny in close and cradle the older boy’s head in his arms. He wanted to press Benny’s face against his bare chest and feel Benny’s stubble against his ribs and rub his cheek against Benny’s hair.

He wanted to mark the alpha, to bite down around the scent gland on Benny’s neck. Like he wasn't an omega; like that was somehow his place.

It was probably the slick sickness, making Dean want to act like he was more than just a fucktoy. It was okay that Dean was wearing the swimsuit and being bad like that since it was pleasing Benny, but Dean shouldn't be having those other thoughts. He shouldn't be having those other strange feelings and urges that omegas weren't supposed to have.

Fiercely tamping down the improper urge, Dean instead walked over to his friend. He was feeling a little bashful and ducked his head, but he grabbed his wrist behind his back instead of trying to cover the way that his body was reacting to the swimsuit. Because Benny liked it, it was obvious, and Dean wanted… He wanted. He wanted Benny to see it, he wanted to make Benny feel good.

He walked right up to the alpha until they were only standing a couple feet apart, Dean's eyes fixed on the ground so that he wouldn't succumb to his strange, sick desires. He could hear Benny breathing and his own heart hammering in his chest.

“Do you… Do you like it?” Dean breathed, and Benny’s hands came into view as the alpha boy reached out and ran his palms down Dean’s ribs to the waistband of the swim shorts. It made Dean shudder, and when Benny skimmed a fingertip along his skin where it disappeared into the swimsuit, his cock twitched and filled further.

“I like it,” Benny whispered back, his voice rough and deep. Dean only had to raise his eyes a little to see how hard Benny was, his huge cock unrestrained by his flimsy swim shorts but weighed down and heavy. “I like it a whole lot, cher. You look… You look real good.”

“And, a-and you just have to ask,” Dean reiterated, stepping a little closer. “I’ll be a good boy for you.”

Benny’s fingers continued to skim along the pale flesh of his lower abdomen, raising goosebumps in their wake. Slick was leaking from the slit of Dean’s cock and leaving a dark, wet mark on the front of his green swim shorts. Benny smelled possessive, and Dean wanted to bury his face into the alpha’s neck.

Finally, Benny pulled his hands away regretfully and raised them to pet Dean’s sun-warmed blond hair instead. Dean’s eyes fluttered closed as he leaned into the sweet touch.

“Yeah, cher. I know.”

But Benny pulled away and turned to his duffel bag to pull out the sunscreen. Dean felt a flicker of disappointment until the older boy turned back to him with a smile and a pile of cream in his hand.

“Can I put this on you, cher?”

Dean kept his body still and pliant as the older boy rubbed sunscreen into his skin. Benny’s big warm hands circled his slender limbs easily everywhere except around his thighs. Dean looked down at Benny when the alpha knelt in front of him to use both hands to apply the lotion to his legs; Benny's fingers went up underneath the legs of Dean's green swim shorts, nearly all the way up his inner thigh but not high enough to enter his hole. Benny’s eyes were dark as he looked up at Dean, and the tent in Dean’s shorts was just inches away from his mouth. Dean could feel the hot gusts of breath blow against the wet patch there every time Benny exhaled.

“Do you want me to do you, too?” Dean asked when Benny was done and the hands on his inner thighs were doing nothing but caressing the delicate skin there. Benny nodded, then shook his head.

“I already done my arms and legs. But… I’d like it if you did my back and my chest, cher. If you don’t mind.”

“I don't mind,” Dean said softly.

Benny handed him the sunscreen and then sat down in the grass in front of him. Dean got to his knees and squirted a liberal dollop onto his palms before spreading it across the older boy’s broad chest.

He hadn't ever touched anybody like this before. He'd helped his dad and little brother put on sunscreen, yeah, but not… Not all slow and tender like this. Not taking his time, fanning his fingers and pausing to cup Benny’s pec. Pressing his palms gently against the softness of Benny’s belly to feel the hard muscle underneath, the same way that his dad and brother liked to feel the cocks inside of Dean. 

Benny had dark hair on his chest and underneath his navel disappearing into his shorts. Dean remembered what it'd felt like against his cock when he'd grinded up against the older boy last weekend. 

Unthinkingly, Dean leaned forward and nuzzled his face into the hair between Benny’s nipples and hummed. He felt Benny inhale sharply in surprise, heard Benny’s heart thud. The older boy raised his hand hesitantly and cupped the back of Dean’s head.

“Cher?” he asked, voice soft and nervous. Dean pulled away, but only after pressing a kiss to the warm skin just over Benny’s heart.

“I can do your back now,” he told him, and Benny turned around. Dean could see that he was blushing and it made him feel. Proud, kind of. A little breathless.

When Dean spread the lotion across his friend’s broad shoulders, he noticed a faded tattoo on Benny’s right shoulder blade. He ran his fingers across it and leaned in to try to read it, but he was too stupid to understand the cursive script.

“What’s this say?” he asked, laying his hand atop the skin there. Benny reached over his shoulder and his fingertips briefly brushed Dean’s before he dropped his hand back into his lap. 

“Says ‘Andrea’. I'm savin' up to get it covered.”

Dean remembered what Benny had told him the day that they'd met while he was driving Dean home from the track meet.

“Andrea? Was she… Um, was she your ex-girlfriend?”

He watched the back of Benny’s head nod.

“Yeah, she was.”

“Were you in love with her?” It was hard for Dean to imagine a girl leaving someone as kind as Benny, but somehow even harder to imagine Benny just leaving someone that he was in love with.

Benny shrugged. “I suppose I was, in a way. Or, I thought I was.”

Dean laid both palms flat against Benny’s back. “What happened?”

“It’s a long story. And not a very happy one.” Benny’s ribs expanded beneath Dean’s hands as he sighed deeply. “I’ll tell you all of it, cher, but not right now. Don't wanna wreck this lovely trip. But… The short story, I guess, is that I realized I was gay.”

Dean sucked in a sharp, shuddery breath of shock, his eyes widening. Benny was…?

Benny must have felt his hands falter and smelled the sudden change in Dean’s scent, because the muscles of his back stiffened under Dean’s fingers. He turned his head slightly.

“That ain’t… That ain’t a problem for you, is it, cher?” He sounded concerned; a little afraid.

Dean didn't know why he was so taken aback or what exactly the feeling was that had spread, cold and sudden, through his chest. Maybe he was a bad friend for assuming, but he'd known that Benny had nearly married a girl back in New Orleans and… Well, it was Benny. He was popular and athletic, and Dean hadn’t expected…

“No,” Dean hurried to say, sitting up taller so that he could wrap his arms around Benny’s shoulders and nuzzle into the back of the older boy’s neck, behind his reddened ear. “No, Benny, I’m sorry. It's not a problem for me, I promise. I promise. Thank you for telling me.”

Benny’s hands came up to hold onto Dean’s thin forearms, thumbs brushing along the golden-freckled skin there, and Dean felt Benny relax into his embrace. Pressed chest-to-back, Dean rubbed the side of his jaw into the hair on the back of Benny’s head, instinctively marking the alpha before he had even realized what he was doing.

Both boys seemed to register Dean’s action simultaneously, and Dean’s eyes shot open and he tried to pull away at the same time that Benny tightened his hold on Dean’s arms and tried to pull him in closer.

“I’m sorry,” Dean said hurriedly. He wasn't supposed to do that, he wasn't supposed to mark anyone, he was just an omega… He was sick, a dumb horrible slut, he was bad…

“No,” Benny said, near urgently. “Please, cher, don’t be. I liked it. It was good. You were good, you’re good, I swear. I liked it.”

He held onto Dean’s forearms and they both breathed in silence, Dean’s arms still around him. They watched the reflection of the sky ripple in the water in front of them, and both of their racing hearts slowed with time.

Finally, Benny gently released his grip on Dean’s arms, and Dean pulled away, sitting back on his heels.

“Let’s get in the water,” Benny said.

“Okay.”

–

The water wasn't cold but it wasn't hot, either. Dean jumped into the shallow pool from atop a small boulder and sank down into it with his eyes closed, savoring the feeling for a few moments before kicking up from the pebbled bottom and taking a great breath of air. The feeling of the wet swimsuit brushing against his skin made Dean shudder at the deviant nature of it.

Dean lowered himself down again until the water level was just above his nose and peered across the small lake at Benny. The older boy had waded in and then dunked himself, and was now standing and wiping the water out of his eyes. Droplets ran down his big strong arms and clung to the hair on his belly. Where he was standing was still shallow, the water level just below his hips; his swimsuit was clinging to every curve of his body, and the muscular swell of his ass and the line of his cock was clearly defined beneath it. Dean blew bubbles through his nose and dunked his head again.

When Dean surfaced for the second time, Benny was further in where the water was a bit deeper. He was looking across the water at Dean with a smile, his eyes softly crinkled at the corners. He held out his hand, and Dean shyly swam over to take it.

“C’mere. Wanna show you somethin’.”

Benny led Dean over towards the rocky outcrop and the small waterfall that was pouring down it. It wasn't a large stream, not much more than a shower, but the water from it was cooler than the rest of the lake and it felt nice falling into their faces.

Dean laughed up into the downpour, sputtering a bit, and Benny laughed in response and pulled Dean in close.

“Look,” he murmured into Dean’s ear, breath warm and voice low and rumbling, sending a shiver down Dean’s spine. He pointed at the wet rock, and Dean followed the line of his finger to see a vein of sparkling quartz points growing out of the basalt.

“Wow,” he breathed in awe. He'd seen crystals like that in rock shops, but never out in nature before. “Wow, Benny! I didn't know crystals like that existed in real life!”

“Me neither,” Benny agreed. “Just stumbled across this place one day, just pure dumb luck. But it felt magical, y’know? I wanted to bring you here.”

Dean pushed gently away from Benny, standing on tip-toes as his feet sank into the rocky bottom of the lake, and leaned in close to trace his fingers along the clear crystal points. They sparkled in the sun. They felt warm, but not as warm as it felt to be in Benny’s arms.

“Have you ever seen anything this beautiful in real life before?” Dean asked breathlessly. It looked like something straight out of a fantasy movie, but it was real and Dean was touching it with his fingers.

He felt Benny step up behind him, felt the older boy’s hands on his waist. When Dean turned his head, Benny’s face was right there; their noses brushed.

“I can think of one thing,” Benny whispered before leaning in the final fraction for a deep kiss.

Dean breathed out, lips parting for Benny’s tongue and tilting his head up. He turned his body to give Benny better access and felt the alpha’s big hands settle more firmly about his waist, holding him tightly. After a moment, Dean hesitantly reached up to cup Benny's face in both of his hands, stroking the scratchy stubble on Benny's cheeks with his thumbs. Benny moaned, and Dean felt his cunt clench.

Feeling bold, Dean jumped up a little bit and raised his knees to wrap his legs around Benny’s waist. He settled with his heels crossed at Benny’s lower back, his hard little cock digging into Benny’s stomach through the wet fabric of his swim shorts and his hole mouthing at Benny's shaft through the two layers of swimsuit covering them both.

“Fuck, cher,” Benny rasped, voice sounding rough and needy. “You got no idea what you do to me. So fuckin’ sweet.”

One of Benny’s hands came around and settled at Dean’s back, supporting him and pressing him closer; the other went lower, his fingers digging into the cleft of Dean’s ass and then grabbing his own cock to press the head against the wet mouth of Dean’s hungry little cunt through the two layers of their swim shorts.

Dean clutched Benny’s face tighter between his hands and hesitantly licked between the older boy’s teeth and into his mouth. He swallowed Benny’s groan when the alpha slipped a little on the sandy pebbles; Benny stumbled to catch his balance and they were both suddenly back under the stream of the little waterfall. 

Gasping for breath, Dean tilted his face until the water was flowing over his hair but not running into his nose, and then deepened the kiss while grinding his slutty cunt down onto Benny’s big cock.

“God, this sweet hole,” breathed Benny, pulling Dean’s cheeks further apart and continuing to press his rigid cock against the covered opening. Dean could feel the sensation of the fabric of his swimsuit against his inner walls; it was being pushed inside, stretched around the shape of Benny’s cockhead.

The cool water lapped around their waists and tumbled down onto their shoulders. Dean clung to Benny and squirmed his hips. He was teasing Benny, he realized, teasing him with his covered-up omega hole. Not like how the other kids at school teased Dean, but like how girls teased boys in the movies; teased them with their lovely pussies that the boys needed permission to enter.

“Nngh,” Dean whined as Benny turned his head and began to kiss along the line of Dean’s jaw as his big cock strained against the fabric of their swimsuits and Dean’s nasty hole sucked around it.

“Good boy,” Benny murmured, the words soothing over Dean and spreading through his chest like melting butter. “Good boy, cher… Such a good boy…”

“You just haveta ask,” Dean said breathlessly. “You just haveta ask, Benny, you just haveta ask…” The words flowed from him, repeating over and over again as Benny pressed his mouth against Dean’s neck and kissed up the water flowing down from his dripping hair. Dean’s cock was so hard, it was so hard, and he pressed it against Benny because he knew that Benny liked that.

“Dean,” Benny whispered in a voice that sounded rough and wrecked.

“Need you to ask,” Dean whimpered, and Benny surged up against him and Dean felt something give, felt the head of Benny’s cock pop past the resistance of Dean’s tight little hole even despite the barriers between them.

Both boys let out helpless gasps, exhaling into each other's mouths, and Benny bent his head and Dean again took Benny’s face between his hands and pressed open-mouthed kisses all over the older boy's dripping forehead.

But Benny couldn't push any further inside, not with the swimsuits in the way. Instead he paused, breathing heavily and looking down at Dean’s erection sandwiched between their bodies. He tried to grind against it, but the movement made Dean yelp and bury his face into the crook of Benny’s neck as the wet fabric of his swim shorts tightened and dug into the creases of his legs, pressed painfully down on his hard cock. Dean wondered if he even needed to pull the swimsuit down or if Benny would find the strength to fuck into him right through the clinging wet fabric.

But Benny didn't push again, just breathed and clutched the younger boy tightly and whispered, “Can you… C-can you uncover your sweet hole for me, cher?”

Nodding against Benny’s hot, wet skin, Dean wiggled his hips and felt his hole clench down around Benny’s cockhead before reluctantly pulling away from the alpha's embrace. Benny steadied him with his hands about Dean’s waist and slowly lifted Dean off of his cock, leaving the young boy's cunt empty to clench only around the fabric of his swimsuit which had been pushed inside the needy hole.

Dean tightened his legs around Benny's hips and felt the older boy's hands drift lower. Benny’s thumbs hooked into the waistband of his swimsuit and dragged them down over Dean’s slim hips until only his plump ass was bared, the wet fabric of the shorts that had been forced inside him pulling slowly out from his hole. 

Benny stopped there and, with one hand, tugged down the front of his own shorts to extricate his hard cock from the fabric. Seconds later, Dean could feel the heated length rubbing against his newly-uncovered hole, the rigid flesh of Benny's cock caressed on all sides by the cool water while the slick heat of Dean’s tiny pink cunt kissed its leaking slit.

“Benny,” Dean breathed, feeling his empty hole pulse and throb; feeling his needy inner walls straining down to try to pull the thick length inside him. 

He'd never been used like this, with shorts pulled down just far enough for access. His omega pants didn't have to be removed to fuck him, so he was always either fully clothed or fully naked. Dean shivered at the naughtiness of it, felt his cunt well up with slick at the knowledge that Benny was so enjoying how bad he was being. 

This was one way. One way that Dean could be a good boy by being bad. Benny knew but no one else would and Dean wouldn't get punished. He wouldn't get sent away.

“Dean,” Benny whimpered, looking up at the younger boy’s face with an expression of pure, unabashed need. Dean reached out dazedly and ran his fingertips across the furrow on Benny’s forehead, the wet hair of his eyebrows, the bridge of his nose; down to Benny’s mouth which was open as the older boy panted. Dean pressed his fingers against Benny’s lips and Benny tilted his head forwards to suck them into his mouth.

Dean’s eyes widened with shock and his dick twitched and throbbed as he watched his fingers disappear between Benny’s lips while, at the same time, Benny gently pulled Dean’s hips down and fully sheathed his aching cock inside of Dean’s trembling body.

“Owwh,” Dean whined, not in pain but in helplessness. Benny’s cock was so big, and Dean wasn't all loose and wrecked like he'd been when Benny had first used him after the surprise party. His huge cock stretched Dean out and filled him so completely that Dean felt like there was no room inside of him for anything else.

This was all that Dean was and all that he was meant to be: just a tight, wet sleeve for Benny to fill and use. Just that, just that and nothing more. He wasn't a good boy or even a bad one, he was just a slick hole shaped perfectly for Benny's thick cock.

“Oohh,” Dean moaned, pulling his fingers from between Benny’s lips and dropping his forehead to rest against Benny’s. His hands curled against Benny’s chest as the alpha began to thrust into him and use him gently. “Mmmh. Unh, B-Benny…”

“Dean,” Benny repeated, nosing under Dean's jaw and nipping at his scent gland. He ran his fingers around the rim of Dean’s sucking entrance below the water as he continued to fill the boy in his arms again and again. “Wanna hold you like this forever, cher. Wanna never let you go.”

Dean closed his eyes and let himself go lax, let Benny’s thick length pump inside him and let himself feel every inch of the stretch. His belly was bulging with every deep plunge; he could feel it against his own hard cock where it was pressed between both of their bellies.

Benny turned them around and backed them out from underneath the waterfall, and Dean opened his eyes again to see the alpha leaning his back against the basalt wall with the crystals shining behind his head and shoulders. His eyes were dark, his blue irises just thin rings around blown pupils. His mouth was wet and swollen from Dean’s kisses.

Benny looked so beautiful that Dean wanted to cry. He couldn't believe that an alpha so gentle and kind and handsome wanted to be Dean’s friend, and wanted to take him someplace as magical as this, and thought that he was good and sweet instead of a disgusting, slutty thing.

Eventually, Benny’s knot began to swell and it caught inside Dean quickly. It felt bigger than Dean remembered, the size of a fist in Dean’s tight cunt, which hadn't been used at all yet that day. When Benny moaned his release and Dean felt himself begin to bloat with the alpha’s cum, Dean mewled his own climax, slick shooting from his cock and immediately disappearing into the cool water.

–

The two boys stayed tied together for a long time, holding onto one another behind the waterfall, eyes closed and just listening to each other's breathing. Finally, when Benny’s knot had fully deflated, he allowed his softened cock to slip from Dean’s used cunt.

Benny tenderly lowered Dean until the young boy’s feet were sinking into the rocky floor and then pulled the omega's green swim shorts back up over his butt until the waistband settled firmly around his hips. Even though it wasn’t stopping up the outflow of cum from Dean’s used cunt, which was clouding the water around them, Dean felt like… Like he was being sealed shut. Like the shorts made him Benny’s; like his omega hole and even the rest of his public parts belonged to Benny and were Benny’s alone to do with as he pleased.

Dean let himself fantasize about that for a moment, picturing himself standing beside Benny in a crowd of people wearing these naughty swim shorts. Imagined alphas lining up to use his hole, and then having to ask Benny to take off his swimsuit first. And Benny would pull down Dean’s swim shorts for them, only just far enough to uncover Dean’s hole, and he'd bend Dean over and stay with him the whole time.

While the line of alphas knotted Dean, Benny would stroke Dean’s face and kiss away his tears. And he’d tell Dean that he was a good boy and after Dean was all used up, he wouldn't be grossed out but would use Dean’s hole, too. And his cock – the cock that Dean’s slutty body was made for – would fill Dean up bigger and thicker than any of the others had, and so when Dean was done being stretched out it would be almost like Benny had been the only one who had used him at all. And it would be Benny’s cum dripping out of him and running down the inside of his legs when Benny finally pulled the shorts back up around his waist to seal him up again.

“You hungry, cher?” Benny asked, a soft smile on his face, and Dean nodded shyly. He was blushing, embarrassed by his naughty fantasy and glad that Benny couldn't read his mind.

Benny leaned forward to kiss him again and then pulled away. “Alright. I'll go get the picnic ready. Why don't you stay in here a little longer? Wait until you’re all emptied out.”

Dean nodded and let Benny swim away, watching after him with a suddenly tight feeling in his chest. For some reason, as he watched Benny’s broad shoulders retreat from him – eyes settling on the curling script of Benny’s tattoo – Dean couldn’t help but recall what Benny had shared with him earlier and wonder if Benny had a crush on any boys right now.

The thought of that – of Benny liking a boy – made Dean’s stomach pang horribly, and then that made him feel so guilty. He hadn’t been this upset when he’d thought of Benny getting a girlfriend one day; why was it so different imagining him dating a boy? Why did imagining the kind of boy that Benny would be attracted to fill Dean with such a feeling of terrible dread and sadness?

Dean didn’t want to be homophobic, and he didn’t want to be a bad friend. Maybe he was just being jealous like Sammy, resentful of the idea of Benny splitting his time between Dean and a new boyfriend. It wasn’t just that, though, because the idea of Benny not just spending time with, but talking sweet to and kissing and making love to a boy, made Dean’s eyes flood with tears.

Quickly, Dean blinked them away and ducked his head underwater, reaching up to pinch his cheeks harshly until the pain made him exhale a flood of bubbles. He needed to get ahold of himself, he needed to be a good friend; it was such a nice day and Benny didn’t need him being a whiny, clingy slut and ruining it.

Dean opened his eyes underwater and looked down into the sand and pebbles at his feet. He nearly inhaled a lungful of water when he saw a flash of bright, glowing light.

Right there, only a few inches in front of his bare toes, was a gleaming crystal. A quartz point the size of his thumb. It must have come out of the rocky wall, perhaps dislodged over time by the waterfall.

His hand reached down and closed around the crystal, bringing it up at the same time that he surfaced. Dean breathed and held the crystal in his palm, cupping it gently like a baby bird. There were small faults and fractures that he could see when he turned it over, and a little section flashed with a rainbow when it hit the light in just the right way. It was beautiful.

Dean felt a strange urge, and his eyes darted back up to the shore to see Benny sorting through the cooler that he'd packed in the bed of his truck. Benny wasn't looking at him at all. He wouldn't see.

Biting his lip, Dean hooked his fingers back into the waistband of his swim shorts and pulled them slowly down over his hips. A small trickle of Benny’s cum was still flowing out of him into the water. Dean ignored that; he took the crystal between his fingers and lowered it between his legs, then slipped it through the loosened rim of his leaking entrance.

Dean looked up at Benny again, curling a finger inside himself. He could feel the tiny gem inside his hole, hard and nice. It felt bright, as though it was glowing from inside the dark depths of his slick cunt. It was a beautiful, magical thing, found in this special secret place that Benny had taken Dean to, and Dean was… He didn’t quite know what he was doing. He was imbuing it with something. With his love for Benny. He was holding it tightly where his slick was mixed together with Benny’s cum, right there in the hole that Benny’s cock had shaped for himself.

Dean felt a thrilling kind of embarrassment when he tightened his core and pushed the crystal back out after keeping it inside for a long while. His inner muscles didn't have to work very hard – the crystal was very small compared to most of the things that his slutty cunt was used to swallowing – and it fell easily through the water back into the waiting palm of Dean’s hand.

“Are you ready?” Benny called from the shore. He was standing in the rocks at the water’s edge, looking out at Dean with smile. Behind him, Benny had laid out a blanket in the dry grass, the cooler weighing it down in the center with a few fist-sized rocks at the corners to keep the slight wind from blowing them up. 

“Yes!” Dean called back, and pulled his swim shorts back up around his hips before swimming over to Benny, the crystal held firmly in his closed fist.

Benny turned around to return to the picnic blanket and sat down heavily onto it. He had set out the sandwiches that he'd made along with their water bottles and a plate of seemingly homemade chocolate-covered strawberries. There was an empty patch of blanket on the other side of the cooler for Dean to sit on, but Dean walked up to Benny instead, placing his bare feet on either side of the alpha’s hips and settling himself onto Benny's lap so that they were face to face.

“Cher,” Benny said with a soft quirk at the corners of his mouth. “It's gonna be hard for us to eat like this.”

“I found this for you,” Dean told him breathlessly, holding up the crystal between them. It glinted, glowing brightly in the sunlight that was shining down on them from above.

Benny looked down at the crystal and let out a soft breath. He reached up to take it from Dean’s offering hand, and Dean laid his now-empty palm flat on Benny’s chest and felt the older boy’s heart racing.

“Dean,” Benny breathed. “It’s… It’s beautiful. You want me to have this? Really?”

Dean nodded, and Benny raised the crystal up to his mouth to press it to his lips. Dean blushed when Benny’s nostrils flared, and the alpha’s pupils dilated visibly as they flickered back up to take in Dean’s bashful expression.

“Did you put this inside you?” Benny asked, and Dean nodded.

“So maybe, um, you can have like, a piece of me to keep,” Dean admitted softly. “And so this day can be special in your memory. It’s been so wonderful, and I… I’m just so happy, Benny. Is that… Is that okay?”

Benny nodded quickly, and when he smiled again it was beaming. His entire face lit up and his cheeks glowed pink. Suddenly shy, Benny ducked his head and laughed a little breathlessly, his kind heart beating so hard and fast beneath Dean’s palm.

This time it was Benny reaching up with one hand to hide his face, trying to disguise how giddy the gift had made him. Dean surged up underneath Benny’s arm and nuzzled into his jaw, the sight of Benny so elated by his present making him feel full up with tenderness and affection.

As they cuddled for a little while, waiting for Benny’s blush to fade and his heartbeat to slow, Dean thought to himself that when Benny got a boyfriend, Dean really would be so happy for him. He would. He’d be a good friend.

Maybe Benny’s boyfriend would be as kind as Benny was. A beta or even an alpha with a nice smile and gentle hands; Benny deserved a boy like that. Someone who would treat him right and appreciate what a special person he was. Benny deserved someone so, so good.

And maybe, if Benny’s boyfriend ended up being an alpha, too, then Benny and he could use Dean’s hole together. They could make love to each other in Benny’s bed, and use Dean to pleasure themselves. He could be like their bedroom toy, and they could use his hole gently at the same time to feel their cocks moving against each other inside his slutty body.

And Dean could be a part of something special, something beautiful like that. And maybe being so close to Benny’s love would feel almost as good as receiving it.

Chapter 26: In-School Suspension

In-school suspension wasn't the same for omegas as it was for the normal students. Instead of spending the day in the ISS room to do classwork in silence, Dean still got to go to his classes and his free use periods like usual. Only, he had to do it all tied up and hanging from a rolling omega suspension carrier.

Dean had to go to school thirty minutes early – Dad dropped him off on the way to work – and head to the main office first thing in the morning to get set up. The health teacher, Mr. Robertson, was the one who did the tying since he had so much experience from teaching the shibari and rope bondage section of sex ed. Mr. Robertson was quick and efficient, and Dean never had any numbness at the end of the day, but. It still kind of hurt. 

Dean started off face-down on his belly, but after twenty minutes of diligent tying he was all bent up like a pretzel with his legs frog-tied, his toes pointed up at the ceiling, and his arms crossed tightly behind his back. That was when Mr. Robertson lifted him like a little package and placed him onto the metal tray of the suspension carrier so that he could start to hoist Dean into the air.

The omega suspension carrier looked kind of like a luggage cart from a fancy hotel, just… more austere. It had thick rubber wheels and a plain silver-colored metal frame. There was a small hook on the frame on one side where they hung Dean’s backpack so that his teachers could put his assignments inside it throughout the day. There was also a big, sturdy eye-bolt on a swivel in the center of the horizontal pole that stretched over the cart, and that was where Mr. Robertson ran the ends of the ropes through to rig the bound omega. 

Dean was raised up slowly, his head hanging. As he was lifted from the floor of the cart in smooth starts and stops by the ropes binding his arms and legs, his body began to contort. His back bent unnaturally backwards, hips tilting even further upward until his tailbone twinged. The soft pink mouth of his fluttering omega hole sweetly opened as his legs were spread as far as they could go, his glistening inner walls kissing the open air. Dean felt like he probably didn't even really look like a person anymore, just a weird sort of bendy toy with a slick hole going through the middle.

Once Dean was at the proper height, Mr. Robertson took Dean’s hair in his fist and bent Dean’s head back until he could slide a loop of rope over his head and between his teeth. The rope kindly helped to keep Dean’s head up and facing forward so that he’d be able to see the board during class, but it did have the unavoidable side effect of gagging him.

Then, there was a little tub placed on the carrier beneath Dean's face to collect his drool throughout the day, and one beneath his hips to collect his slick. Without them, he’d get the carrier all messy and probably trail his slutty fluids all over the school.

The finishing touches were to Dean’s public parts. Mr. Robertson caged Dean’s cock and inserted the same big steel butt plug that was used on him during free use period; then, a special hole spreader was inserted into his cunt. It had a circular frame with six long L-shaped rods that met in the middle of the circle when the spreader was closed. After the rods got inserted into Dean’s hole – all five inches of them – wingnuts that were screwed onto the short end of the rods along the circumference of the circular frame were tightened, pulling the rods apart from each other and spreading Dean’s hole.

Mr. Robertson went around the wingnuts, tightening them one by one in intervals of a few turns each to keep the rods evenly spread. When Dean’s hole had been stretched to a two-inch gape, the spreader was firmly wedged into place with just a little bit of wiggle when Mr. Robertson checked that it wouldn’t come out. He nodded to himself and then went around tightening the wingnuts one more time, stretching Dean a tiny bit further just to be sure that the spreader wouldn't dislodge throughout the day. 

This hole spreader was less comfortable than the hooks that Dad used on Dean at home (Dad had originally tried several different kinds so that Dean could pick the one that he liked best), but then again, in-school suspension wasn’t supposed to be comfortable. The spreader was doing exactly what it was supposed to do: it was keeping Dean’s filthy cunt spread widely so that everyone could see exactly what he was.

A bad boy. A disobedient cocksleeve. A rulebreaking little slut that needed to be punished.

–

Dean had his free use periods during first, third, and sixth period that week. Free use was pretty much the same as usual, except for being in the suspension bondage instead of strapped down to the bench. It was his regular classes that were the most different.

Mrs. Davies was the hall monitor who had been assigned to deliver Dean to each of his classes during his in-school suspension. She came to pick Dean up after his first period free use and then rolled the suspension carrier through the hallways to his second period English class. Dean’s bound little body swayed a bit as the carrier trundled along; one of the wheels kept sticking and required Mrs. Davies to course-correct when it made the carrier swerve.

The hallways were very full but most of the students quickly got out of their way. They all stared at Dean’s twisted-up body with curiosity, fascination, or disgust. Even though it'd been almost two weeks of this already, a lot of the students were still shocked that Dean’s body was so bendy and could be twisted up to look so weird. And shocked that he was enjoying it so much (because despite him being folded up like a pretzel and on display suspended in the air for everyone to see, blushing and teary-eyed with shame and embarrassment, his trembling hole dripped persistently down into the tub below him).

Some of the students reached out to tweak Dean’s exposed nipples or pinch his thighs where soft flesh was bulging out between the tightly wound rope. Occasionally someone would grab his knee or his shoulder or even hook their fingers into his open hole or mouth and pull, spinning him like when you spun your friend around in a swing on the playground. The eye-bolt would rotate on the swivel and he'd spin slowly in the air with a whimper. That, he hated most of all, because it made him feel dizzy and stupid-looking. Luckily, Mrs. Davies usually only let him rotate one or two full circles before reaching out to halt him.

When Mrs. Davies got him to his English class, half of the other students were already seated and talking amongst each other. Many of them turned to look at the sound of the suspension carrier bumping against the metal door frame, which made Dean swing a bit at the impact. The long string of slick that had been slowly drooling from his cunt over the last minute swung as well, missing the tub that had been placed under his hips as it finally broke and plopped onto the metal tray of the carrier instead. A couple of the other kids laughed, muffling the noise behind their hands while Mrs. Davies rolled Dean through the classroom past his usual omega desk. 

–

Every classroom in the school had a special omega desk for omega students to sit at, and it was typically placed all the way at the back of the room to minimize the distraction that the omega could pose to the other students. Omega desks were almost the same as regular ones, but they had a threaded fitting countersunk into the middle of the seat where the teacher could screw on a dildo attachment if an omega needed to be disciplined. There was a box attached under the omega chair instead of the little wire tray that the regular desks had for storing textbooks and school supplies; this box was for storing the disciplinary dildos.

The standard classroom disciplinary dildos were stainless steel – just like the free use supplies – and came in two sizes: one that was six inches long and one inch in diameter, and one that was three inches long and nearly two inches in diameter. The long one entirely filled the length of an average middle-school-aged omega hole, while the thicker one would give it a good stretch. If an omega needed to be disciplined, its teacher would usually choose which one the omega had to use based on which kind of discomfort would best help that particular omega learn its lesson (the school took great pride in the individualized attention that it paid to all of its students; after all, education couldn't be approached with a one-size-fits-all mentality).

For the most part, however, the teachers didn't often use the disciplinary dildo attachments. The omegas at the school were fairly obedient and seldom got in trouble. Mostly it was just important to have a designated omega desk so that the alpha and beta students didn't have to worry about sitting in a seat that a leaky omega had gotten dirty.

Of course, Dean – as all of his teachers had been telling him ever since he had come into his slick – was a uniquely stupid slut. So unlike the other omegas, he was a special case and usually had to be disciplined in his classes several times per week. The school had even had to buy a new model of disciplinary dildo just for him since the regular ones weren’t helping him to get better... Technically, the new model had been purchased for use on any very stupid slut that needed it (not just for Dean) but since he was the only one that they used it on, it sort of felt like it was just for him. 

The special disciplinary dildo for very stupid sluts was eight and a half inches long and two and a half inches in diameter. That was bigger than Dean could take easily without prep – even with his recent new trainings – so he’d have to finger himself first before he could sit down on it. Sometimes, though, if Dean was taking too long, the teacher would just have him align his tiny pink cunt with the bulbous steel head and generously help him to force it inside by pushing down on his shoulders.

It took a little bit of muscle if they had to do it that way. Dean would bite down on the back of his wrist through the ache of the stretch, trying to keep his balance while his teacher assisted his tight hole in accommodating the unrelenting steel. When his strained hole was finally swallowing around the base of it, Dean’s teacher would make him pull up the hem of his shirt and bare his stomach to reveal the hard bulge of the huge steel tool under his skin to the classroom. Then his teacher would palm at it, closing their hand around the obscene shape deforming his belly and stroking up and down along the length of it several times while his classmates watched. They had to do so in order to verify that Dean really had taken it all the way inside himself; once they were satisfied that Dean had taken in every inch of his discipline, they would return to the front of the classroom to continue with the lesson.

The special dildo also had deep ridges that made it hard for Dean not to make embarrassing noises with his naughty little cunt whenever the teachers made him ride the dildo during class instead of just sitting on it. Dean hated it when the teachers made him do that, because he really couldn’t help the sloppy, shameful sounds that his nasty hole made but he always got reprimanded for them anyway. Plus, by the end of even just five minutes of pushing himself up and down the massive dildo, Dean’s thighs would be sore and shaking with exertion and he'd be sweating and breathing hard. And it was even harder to read the board than usual when he was moving up and down like that, but if he'd wanted to read the board properly then maybe he shouldn't have gotten in trouble in the first place.

If he was ever an exceptionally stupid slut, the teachers could make the dildo vibrate, too. They told Dean that it was supposed to help him focus, and Dean was too ashamed to admit that it actually made it even harder for him to pay attention. Maybe, if he weren’t so slutty, it would work how it was supposed to. He just had to try harder.

Luckily, the teachers didn’t have to call his dad when they used the disciplinary dildos on Dean and it didn’t give him a mark on his record, so Dad didn’t know just how frequently Dean had to be punished at school. With any luck, Dean would keep it that way. He didn’t want his dad to be disappointed in him.

–

During Dean’s in-school suspension, he obviously couldn't sit at the omega desk and putting him in the back of the room simply wouldn't do. Dean needed to be set up right in the front of the classroom so that everyone in the class could clearly see that he'd been a bad boy and was being disciplined: that was the only way for him to learn.

In his English classroom, some space had been cleared since last week at the front of the room so that Dean’s suspension carrier could slide into the first row of desks, right in the middle. His gaping cunt, still slick and glistening from his first period free use even though the rest of his butt and thighs had been wiped clean, was facing the entire room at just about eye-level with his seated classmates.

Mrs. Davies left. Dean’s English teacher, Mrs. Werther, was prepping for the class behind her desk. She wasn’t looking at Dean and Dean couldn't so much as turn his head to look around the class, but he could feel the eyes of his classmates on his body and on the slutty hole that was fluttering between his widespread thighs. He blushed and closed his eyes so that he could pretend to be somewhere else for just a little while. Like, maybe watching Scooby-Doo with Sammy or getting frozen yogurt with Benny. But after the bell rang to signify the start of class, he opened his eyes again so that he could pay attention to the lesson. He couldn’t take notes while he was all tied up like this – not that he was very good at taking notes normally, but he did always try his best – and he didn’t want to fall behind.

The other students silenced as the class began. Dean worked very hard to ignore the eyes that he could feel on his slutty body and paid attention to the lesson, but his inner walls were fluttering anxiously and he could hear the kids that were sitting behind him giggle every time his slick dripped down into the tub.

Fifteen minutes into the lesson, Dean felt something small tap against his thigh. The sudden feeling startled him so much that his abs tensed and his hole squelched audibly from deep inside, past where the spreader rods ended; the class erupted into muffled laughter.

“Dean Winchester!” Mrs. Werther reprimanded. “I will not have disruptions in my classroom!”

Dean tried his best to look sorry and made an apologetic noise through his rope gag, but Mrs. Werther’s face remained stern and disapproving as she came over to him and walked around the carrier. Dean couldn't turn his head to look, so his eyes remained fixed on the projector screen as his teacher went about tightening the wingnuts of his hole spreader.

“Hopefully this will teach you how to better behave; you're supposed to be getting disciplined, not causing a scene.”

Dean whimpered as he felt his rim stretch. He'd been hearing this sentiment from his teachers over the course of his in-school suspension every time he distracted his classmates with his gaping hole and slutty, twisted-up body. It was a little confusing to him how he was meant to be on display at the front of the room for his classmates to observe, but also he wasn't supposed to be a distraction. He wasn’t sure how both of those things could happen at the same time. But he supposed that that was just one of the many ways that his teachers knew better than him; they were grown-ups and educators, after all, while Dean was just a slick-for-brains fucktoy.

Mrs. Werther finally finished expanding his hole and returned to the front of the classroom. A minute later, Dean felt the same light tap again – on his butt this time – but he kept himself from flinching and his cunt didn't make a sound. 

He still wasn't sure what exactly was happening but then Dean saw, out of the corner of his eye, a tiny streak of color shoot past him and bounce onto the ground in front of the teacher’s desk. It was a little green eraser, the kind that you could put onto the end of your pencil. When Dean felt the next eraser knock into the metal cage around his balls before bouncing back onto the floor, Dean realized what was happening: his classmates had made a game of trying to throw things into him while the teacher wasn't looking.

The next eraser actually managed to nearly make it inside him, glancing off the edge of the hole spreader and falling to the ground. Dean whimpered with shame and couldn't help the slick sound that escaped his cunt when it flinched around the spreader rods and cringed away from the projectile. His classmates giggled again, and he closed his eyes to escape from Mrs. Werther’s judgment.

“That's the second time in three minutes,” she said as her sensible heels clunked across the floor towards him. “I can see that I didn't go quite far enough.” 

She took longer this time to tighten the spreader, turning each wingnut many more times than she had previously. Dean’s cunt felt tight, stretched to the point of aching. He sniffled. Mrs. Werther made a tutting noise of disgust as she peered down at her handiwork.

“I hope that's the last correction you need; this hole is stretched so wide that I’m not sure what will happen to it if I have to stretch it again.”

At least now his hole was stretched too far to make any more noises. Like the rest of his body, it couldn't so much as twitch, not even deep inside past where the rods ended. Dean wondered how wide open it was; perhaps his classmates could see all the way to the end of the dripping pink tunnel.

It must really have been very wide open, because despite Dean trying very hard not to do whatever it was that he did that made people want to put things inside him, Dean’s classmates’ game resumed and more erasers hit their mark than missed. Dean felt every tiny impact, gentle taps on his inner walls, and was grateful that he was tied up so tightly and stretched so tautly that he couldn’t make a scene. He had to try very hard not to make any noise through the rope gag, though; he didn't want the teacher to notice that he was still being such a bad boy and distracting his classmates after her correction.

Dean managed to stay quiet for another ten minutes, eyes focused on the projector and listening to the lesson as attentively as he was able to while erasers and other small objects – tiny folded up triangles of paper, paperclips, crumpled foil candy wrappers and a few wads of chewed gum – slowly filled the gaping cavern between his legs. Sometimes they also bounced off of his skin and fell to the floor (a few things fell into the tub beneath his hips, plopping quietly into the puddle of slick there). He’d gotten used to the suspense of the wait and the shock of the tiny impacts, so that was okay, but… Having his contorted, bundled-up body used as a kind of basket for his classmates’ game felt a little. Well. It kind of made him want to cry.

It wasn’t like in-school suspension was supposed to be enjoyable, though. And maybe he should be grateful to be included in their game at all; usually Dean was left out of any classroom fun. If he continued to be quiet and not disrupt the class and was a good sport, then maybe Mrs. Werther wouldn’t get angry with him and his classmates would think he was cool. And maybe next time, when he wasn’t suspended, they’d invite him to do something else with them.

Unfortunately, Dean’s good behavior and self-control were meaningless when a girl near the back of the room tried to aim a paper airplane into his cunt. The paper airplane missed Dean’s hole completely, and he cringed when it glided past his head and floated through the air and collided directly with Mrs. Werther’s turned back.

The surreptitious giggles that had been the quiet ambient noise in the room for the duration of the game immediately silenced as Mrs. Werther turned around and knelt to pick up the fallen airplane. When she stood again, her lips were pursed disapprovingly; she unfolded the paper to read a message that the beta girl had scribbled onto it with thick black marker. Her eyes then narrowed at Dean, who whined quietly in supplication. His body gently swayed in the air as he tried unsuccessfully to wiggle in his bondage.

“What's this?” she asked, holding up the paper so that it was in Dean’s sightline. 

Dean struggled to read it. Mostly, unless the writing was cursive or the letters were all muddled with pictures or something, Dean found it easier to read than to write. The letters on the paper were big and plain, but just then it was still hard because everyone was looking at him and he just knew that they were thinking that he was stupid.

On the unfolded paper was a silly drawing of Dean’s widespread legs with his hugely gaping hole between them. An arrow was pointing to the hole that labeled it “CLASS CUNT”, and the hole was talking; it had a cartoon speech bubble that said “FILL ME UP, I’M HUNGRY!!!”

Dean felt his eyes well up with tears of embarrassment as Mrs. Werther again walked around him to peer into his slutty hole. The rest of the class was silent, waiting uneasily for what their teacher was going to say next.

“This is the third time just today that you’ve decided to disrupt the class. First with your crude noises, and now by tempting your classmates into filling up this insatiable hole of yours.”

Mrs. Werther tutted and gave Dean’s right thigh a light smack. “Mmmph,” Dean whimpered. If he wasn't gagged, he'd try to tell her that he really hadn't meant to. He never did, he never tried to make people want to use his hole on purpose. He knew that it wasn't a good excuse, but he just. He just wished that people understood that.

“Clearly the spreader alone can’t keep your depravity under control. But I know what will help; there’s nothing like a proper spanking to manage a disobedient omega.”

His teacher’s hands quickly went around the circumference of the spreader, loosening the wingnuts until the device had closed enough for Mrs. Werther to be able to remove it from his rowdy little cunt. As his rim relaxed, Dean let out a little sigh; no longer stretched to the limit, the walls of his hole closed around the bundle of things that had been thrown inside it with a wet slurp. His classmates giggled at that. They sounded reassured that they weren’t going to be punished for Dean’s naughty behavior.

“You'll get five for each time you've disrupted the class today. That's three times five. Class, how many is that?”

“Fifteen,” the class chorused.

“That’s right. Now, since Dean is unable to do so himself, I’d like you all to help count. Ready?”

The first spank landed on the back of Dean’s left thigh, just next to his twitching hole; it was loud in the room and left a red mark and sent him swinging slightly forward. Dean bit down on the rope in his mouth and squeezed his eyes shut.

“One,” the class said.

After Dean had stopped swinging, Mrs. Werther laid another firm spank on his right thigh. Dean’s cunt clenched around its contents, and Dean could feel the things inside him all shift around. There was more inside than he’d thought there was while the spreader was still inside him; he wasn't all full up, but there was a thick presence that made his hole tingle and pulse. When Mrs. Werther laid another spank on his left thigh again, Dean felt unwanted pleasure begin to build in his gut as his hole tightened once more around what it’d been fed.

“Three!”

Mrs. Werther built up a bit of a rhythm, no longer waiting for Dean to stop swinging but using the momentum of his backswing to make her spanks hit him even harder. The walls of his shameful hole continued to tighten with the pain, squeezing around its contents. Slick was filling him up inside; he could feel it and it made him want to hide, but he couldn’t. He could do nothing but swing through the air like a ball on a string, his sorry cunt sucking on the big wad of discarded school supplies and trash inside it like that would comfort him somehow.

“Ten!” his classmates exclaimed.

On either side of Dean’s gaping hole, his lower buttcheeks and inner thighs were glowing red from five hard spanks each. Dean’s eyes were clenched shut, a few tears escaping to trickle down his face and mingle with the drool that dripped from his chin into the plastic tub below him. His skin felt hot and bruised, stinging even when his teacher wasn’t touching him. She wasn’t holding back at all; she was spanking him with all of her strength.

Benny was picking him up after school today; Dean wondered if Benny would let him lay on his side with his head in the alpha’s lap while he drove since Dean was sure that he’d be too sore to sit properly in the passenger seat.

The eleventh spank landed directly on Dean’s open hole. His eyes shot open and he couldn’t help but let out a grunt around the ropes in his mouth as his classmates diligently tallied the count. His cunt spasmed and the stuff inside him squished and shifted.

“Eleven!”

The twelfth spank landed flatly on his hole again, and Dean felt his every muscle tighten at the impact. His inner walls undulated as the pleasure-pain shocked all the way down to the depths of his disobedient little cunt. The clench of his inner muscles forced some of the things filling him up to shoot out of him, and they tumbled from his hole into the plastic tub as he swung forward from the impact.

Mrs. Werther’s palm connected with his sloppy gape again on his next backswing with a sickening splat, forcing another wave of slick-slimy school supplies to rain from his quivering tunnel as it clenched and heaved. They pattered down into the shallow puddle of slick in the tub as his bundled-up body continued to swing through the air.

“It’s like a piñata,” one of his classmates giggled, and a blush spread across Dean’s chest and he sniffled as he realized that she was right. 

It was like a piñata, this slutty body of his. Folded up and tied into a funny shape. Completely immobile like some sort of weird-looking, squishy sculpture with a slick pink pocket to fill. Swinging on the end of a rope while someone hit it until goodies poured out. The only difference was that he was spilling the unwanted stuff that had been found at the bottom of his classmates' backpacks instead of candy.

Another squishy splat sounded as his teacher’s palm again connected with his stinging hole. 

“Fourteen!”

The impact made his hole squelch and a small cluster of the remaining erasers sputtered weakly out into the tub. When Dean’s body swung away, strings of slick connected his messy cunt to his teacher’s hand, which she looked at with distaste.

“I don't suppose there's anything I could do that would make your slutty hole stop craving cock, but I'll try to make this final spank count.”

“Ooouugh,” Dean grunted as the final spank sent sent a splatter of slick shooting out from under Mrs. Werther’s palm. A couple of the students that were sitting in the front row said “Ew!” and ducked behind their notebooks while the rest of the class happily announced “Fifteen!”

Dean wished that he could hang his head, but he could do nothing but continue looking forward with his aching neck. This time he swung unimpeded, no spanks punctuating his backswings, but it didn't feel very different. His butt and thighs stung, but his sore hole most of all; it felt hot and trembly, and his insides were shivering with pleasure that he couldn't find release from thanks to his cock cage. It simply persisted, making his glistening pink walls quiver like jelly and his abused entrance twitch and spasm.

“I hope you've learned your lesson.”

Dean felt Mrs. Werther wipe her slippery palm off onto one of his legs. Then, he heard a small clatter as she picked up the hole spreader from the nearby desk that she had set it on.

The long rods slid easily into his hole despite how much he'd tightened from the spanks. Wordlessly, Dean’s teacher began to tighten the wingnuts. His hole was spread again incrementally over the course of a couple of minutes; he sniffled and tried to breathe through his runny nose and the soaked ropes in his mouth, feeling tears drying on his cheeks.

The spreader opened him up to where he'd been after Mr. Robertson had set him up that morning, and then wider to after the first and second times that Mrs. Werther had tightened it, and then even further. A whine was pulled from Dean’s chest as his hole was stretched tighter than he'd ever felt it stretched before; he felt that if someone tapped on his taut inner walls, it would echo like a drum.

Dean squeezed his eyes shut and Mrs. Werther tightened each wingnut two more turns, and suddenly he felt a sort of snap. Like a rubber band breaking, but inside him. In his hole. The sharp pain of being overstretched disappeared and it was replaced by a dull aching and a distantly pleasant buzz of strange pleasure. 

His body began to shiver uncontrollably, but it wasn't really visible and only resulted in him swaying slightly from the rope. Dean relaxed fully into his bondage and felt strangely cozy as his muscles trembled, the ache of his bent neck and back and the sting of his spanked behind and the dull throbbing in his ruined hole all melting together until it almost felt. Nice. Comfortable.

He hoped that it meant that he had learned his lesson.

“Let me see,” Mrs. Werther muttered, unzipping Dean’s backpack and fishing through it. After a moment she pulled out his pencil bag, the Batman one that Dad had got him last year when they went back-to-school shopping. It was full, stuffed with Dean’s pens and pencils and erasers and the spare change that he collected until he could afford to buy peanut M&Ms from the school vending machine as a special treat.

His teacher hefted the pencil bag in her hand, nodded primly, and then inserted the fat end through the open circle of the spreader. A firm shove pushed the pencil bag down the rest of the way into Dean’s hugely open hole, plugging it efficiently. Dean wasn't using it anyway, not during his suspension, so it was fine. He'd just have to clean it off later.

“That should prevent you from further tempting your classmates,” Mrs. Werther told him, and Dean hoped that she was right.

Chapter 27: Crush

By the end of the day, Dean was feeling. A little light-headed. He wasn't let out of his in-school suspension bondage at all; just like all the previous days, Mrs. Davies had twice taken him to the nurse’s office where the school nurse had held a plastic container up to his caged penis for him to pee into. He didn't get lunch since bad sluts don't get to eat, but his free use monitors had taken the rope gag out and helped him drink his water with a straw, so at least he wasn't very dehydrated.

No one had touched the hole spreader after his English teacher had tightened it so Dean’s hole was still wide open. His pencil bag had been removed and replaced a few times, though. During his last two free use periods, of course – the alphas during free use had entertained themselves with a similar game to the one from his English class, trying to see who could properly aim one of the steel butt plugs into his gaping pink cunt from the furthest away – and also once during science class so that his teacher could demonstrate how to calculate the volume of a cylinder using the diameter and depth of his stretched hole. 

Throughout the day, Dean had found himself drifting. The ache of his twisted limbs melted into the stinging of his spanked butt and omega hole, but the strange absence of pain in his overstretched entrance was somehow at the forefront of his mind. It had been that lack of sensation that had distracted him the most throughout the day, preventing him from being able to pay attention during his afternoon classes. Dean was a little frightened to find out what it would feel like when the hole spreader was finally removed.

At the end of the day when he was delivered back to the main office, Mr. Robertson was waiting impatiently. He lowered Dean quickly to the floor of the carrier and then untied all of the knots without much care for easing Dean’s strained limbs into the proper position. When Dean's legs were unbound, they flopped out and stayed widespread with the plug still in his ass and the spreader in his omega hole.

“Nnhh,” Dean whimpered as he felt his joints ache while blood began to flow more strongly to his extremities.

Mr. Robertson pulled the pencil bag out of Dean’s cunt with an expression of disgust. It slid out with a quiet, wet noise, and was then tucked – soaked-through and dripping slick – into Dean’s open backpack. Then, Mr. Robertson began to loosen the wingnuts around the spreader.

Dean didn't feel the usual relief of a hole spreader being released from his cunt. He wondered hazily if Mr. Robertson was even loosening the spreader at all, but when he heard the clatter of the metal contraption being set into one of the plastic tubs – Dean hadn't even felt it sliding out of his swollen gape – Dean realized why he hadn't felt the difference.

Ever since English class, the device hadn’t actually been stretching Dean’s hole at all; it had simply been holding it open. Now, with the spreader gone, Dean’s entrance wasn't contracting or shrinking. It was simply sagging down, hanging open like a loose drawstring bag.

No comment was made on the state of Dean’s broken hole. Mr. Robertson simply moved on to remove the butt plug and then unlock the cock cage.

“Alright, you're free to go,” Mr. Robertson finally said, standing and beginning to put away the in-school suspension supplies. Weakly, Dean whimpered and managed to push himself up onto his knees.

He didn't get up. Dean felt that he had barely any strength. The bruises on his thighs ached and he didn't want to sit on them, but he couldn't stand. It hadn't been like this after the other days of his in-school suspension; he'd been shaky and sore and had to rest for a bit before leaving, but today his arms felt like gummy worms and his legs… His legs felt like jello that had melted in the rain.

He had just enough willpower to unzip the front pocket of his backpack to pull out his phone. Dean turned it on and found a text from Benny.

Chapter 28: Nourishment

John Winchester was furious. More furious than he'd been since… Well, since he'd found out about the school changing Dean's schedule without consulting him first.

His son had been injured by a teacher at his school, in the middle of one of his classes, and no one had called John to alert him. No one had even sent Dean to the nurse’s office. That principal would get a piece of his mind tomorrow when John gave her a visit after taking Dean to the doctor.

Dean's friend Benny had driven him home that afternoon and carried him up to the front door from his truck. Dean had been asleep, naked, his sweet face pale and soft thighs colored purple with hand-shaped bruises. 

“He got spanked today in one of his classes,” Benny had explained quietly after John had taken his son from him. The anger and protectiveness in the young alpha’s voice had made John feel glad that his son had such a caring friend. “And the teacher… Guess she spread him out too wide. His omega hole is in a bad way.”

Concerned, John had lowered his hand to cup Dean’s hole and felt the slick inner walls pouting out, plump and swollen, into his hand. They were squishy and hot, a tiny little palmful that made John's dick harden at the same time that his stomach turned over.

“He’s havin’ a hard time walkin’,” Benny had continued. “I know it’s not my place, but I think he might need to see a doctor.” The young man had lowered his eyes away from John’s and settled his gaze on Dean’s sleeping face, which was turned sideways with his cheek against his Alpha’s chest, plush lips alluringly parted. John was certain that Benny had wanted to kiss the young omega, but he hadn't made a move to do so while Dean had been in John's arms.

“Thanks for getting him home safe, son. I'll check him out. I'm sure he'll text you later tonight once he's woken up and finished dinner.”

Benny had visibly blushed at that, which endeared him a bit to John even though he was starting to grow a little wary of the young alpha’s obvious feelings towards his omega son. Dean texted Benny every night, and John had caught him blushing at Benny’s Instagram more than once with starry eyes.

“Of course. I'd do anythin’ for him, sir,” Benny had responded, expression so shamelessly earnest that John hadn't known what to say in response. He'd just nodded and waved the boy off. Benny had lingered for a moment, staring at Dean’s unconscious body with an expression of longing, before he had turned and headed back towards his truck.

One day soon, John would have to deal with the burgeoning feelings between his omega son and that alpha boy. But that day would have to wait.

—

“Is he in any pain?” the on-call nurse asked John over the phone. John tenderly stroked Dean’s naked rear; his son was bent over the sturdy coffee table in the living room with two of the couch pillows under his hips, face buried in his arms. The pillows kept his hips propped up and his ruined cunt upturned for John’s careful examination. The sloppy little hole wasn’t as beaten or swollen as it had been the day of the track meet, but John had never seen it so incredibly loose. There wasn't even the hint of tightness; not the flinch of a squeeze.

“He's pretty bruised up, but that's from a spanking,” John told the nurse. “Is your hole hurting, Deano?” he asked gently, and Dean shook his head. “His omega hole doesn't hurt.”

“What happens if you ask him to bear down? Like he's pushing out a toy?”

John thumbed at Dean’s slick gape before patting his son’s arced lower back.

“Can you try to push for me, sweetheart?”

Dean made a little whimpery noise, and a moment later, his thighs began to quiver. John kept his eyes fixed on Dean’s glistening pink cunt, watching the bruised rim and distended inner walls for a twitch or a clench. After a few seconds of waiting for Dean to start pushing, John heard his boy grunt with effort and realized that Dean was pushing… or at least he was trying to.

“Well?” came the nurse’s voice from the phone.

“Nothing’s happening,” John answered, voice colored with concern. “He’s trying, but it's not even twitching.” He stroked his hand soothingly across Dean’s slack entrance to let his son know that he could stop straining. Dean’s thighs relaxed and the young omega sniffled. After a final, gentle pat, John wiped his slickened palm off on the leg of his jeans.

“Hmm,” the nurse said. “Well, while the lack of muscle control is concerning, it’s actually a positive sign that it – excuse me, he – isn't showing signs of prolapse upon bearing down. And if he isn't in any pain, then I recommend that you make an appointment with his assigned omega specialist for tomorrow rather than taking him to an ER tonight.”

John nodded, pressing the heel of his hand to his forehead. The ER would all be well and good if Dean had a broken bone or needed stitches on a normal body part, but the average ER nurse or doctor didn’t know their way around an omega hole, let alone how to properly treat a damaged one. It was even common for omegas to be misdiagnosed or refused treatment at normal hospitals when brought in with an illness or injury that had nothing to do with their omega hole. Regular doctors frequently assumed that omegas were addled or delusional about their symptoms if the root cause wasn't immediately apparent, and ill-informed ones claimed that omega slick interfered with treatment and that only an omega professional could properly diagnose and medicate them.

John could still remember the time when, a year or so after Dean had come into his slick, he had sprained his ankle jumping out of the climbing tree in the backyard. John and Sam had taken Dean to urgent care to make sure that his ankle wasn't broken, and it had taken John nearly two hours to convince the attending physician that Dean’s ankle pain had nothing to do with how many times he'd been used that day or how much slick he was producing. He'd had to threaten to file a grievance with the Department of Omega Affairs before the doctor had agreed to issue an ankle brace and refer Dean to the hospital for an X-ray. That experience was why John had opted to call the omega hotline and speak to a nurse before deciding whether or not Dean needed immediate medical attention.

“Yeah,” John finally said into the phone, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, okay. I'll take him in tomorrow. He’s assigned to Dr. Cara Roberts in Lawrence; what's her earliest appointment?”

There was a pause and a faint clacking as the nurse typed something into her computer.

“Dr. Roberts is fully booked tomorrow,” she finally said. “She has a 3:00 open on Friday, or you can see Dr. Evans tomorrow instead. He works in the same office and has appointments available at 9:30 and 11:30AM.”

Fuck. John rested a hand delicately on one of Dean’s bruised cheeks, sinking his thumb into the center of the omega’s warm, wet cunt. It was disconcerting to not feel those lush pink walls clench and suck around it. John didn't want Dean to have to see a strange doctor with an injury like this, but… Dean’s hole couldn't wait until Friday afternoon.

“I’ll do the 9:30 with Dr. Evans,” John finally sighed.

“Alright. I've got you booked. Please arrive fifteen minutes early to check in. And I suggest you refrain from using your omega hole until after the appointment. If you absolutely must use it, please don't insert anything larger than your penis and exercise restraint with your knot, if possible. You might cause further damage.”

“Of course. And I'll make sure my other son knows not to, either.” He wouldn't fuck Dean with his cock or even a smaller toy; nothing bigger than a finger would be put in Dean’s precious cunt until he was seen by the doctor.

After hanging up the phone, John rubbed Dean’s back and helped him to stand.

“You're not going to school for the rest of the week,” John told him. “I’m gonna have you excused and make sure your suspension doesn't carry over, alright?” Dean nodded and John pushed his messy hair away from his forehead. “I'm gonna take you to the doctor in the morning. But I want you to let me know if you feel anything weird in your hole, alright? I mean anything, Dean. Even if it doesn't hurt.”

Dean nodded again and then bit his lip. He looked at the floor and then up at John from beneath his lashes, nervous.

“What if it’s… What if it’s ruined forever?” he asked, voice shaky. John's heart clenched at his son's obvious worry.

If Dean’s omega hole was damaged permanently, then he wouldn't be able to pleasure alphas with it in the same way that he was used to. Being disabled like that… So much of Dean's life was centered on pleasing alphas with his slutty hole, and being faced with the possibility of losing the ability to do something so important to him… Well, it would be like losing a limb or the ability to walk. The idea of it must seem daunting and scary. John pulled his son into a fierce hug.

“It’s not ruined forever,” he assured Dean. “Your hole is going to be just fine, kiddo. But even if it wasn’t, it would be okay; there's so much you could still do with it.” He pulled away and smiled encouragingly, thumbing at Dean’s rosy pink nipples. “You’re still making slick, right?”

Dean nodded, and John plucked at his nipples until the young boy let out a cute little noise.

“So you'd still be able to keep providing that for me and Sammy and other alphas, even if you weren't tight enough to fuck anymore.”

John abandoned Dean’s reddened nipples with a parting pinch and then slipped a few fingers between Dean’s lips. Immediately, Dean started to suck on them, and John felt his dick twitch. 

“You've still got a slutty face-hole to pleasure us with,” he reminded his son teasingly, “And we could still have a lot of fun with your omega hole. A cunt that loose can take a whole lot, more than we’ve ever tried before. Both of my fists, maybe; maybe even more." He pumped his fingers in and out of Dean a few times, feeling thick saliva start to flood the omega's mouth. “I'm sure your brother would have a blast.”

Finally, after saliva began to overflow and drool down Dean's chin, John slid his fingers out of Dean’s mouth and used them to pat Dean’s cheek. John winked reassuringly, and Dean tried to force a smile in response but wasn't very successful. He still looked upset. 

With a sigh, John opened his arms, and Dean pressed himself up against his father’s chest and nuzzled into him. John embraced his son and rested his chin on the top of Dean’s head. Feeling Dean's slender frame against his own filled him with protectiveness and affection; Dean was so small, so warm.

“There’s so much more to you than your omega hole, sweetheart,” he murmured soothingly as Dean trembled in his arms. “Your mouth, your hands… Even your ass, if it came down to it. There's so much of your body that you can use to pleasure us with.” He rocked them both a little and inhaled Dean’s sweet scent. “And even more than that, you’re Sammy’s big brother and my sweet boy. You’re a sharpshooter and a hard worker, and the best helper we've ever had at the auto-shop. And Uncle Bobby loves you to pieces, and you're Benny’s best friend, right?”

He pulled away slightly and looked down; Dean was gazing up at him with teary green eyes and a wobbling lower lip, but he nodded. John smiled softly and ran his thumb across Dean’s plush lower lip before taking Dean’s face between his hands and leaning down to kiss him.

Dean’s lips were a little swollen and John tasted tears when he urged Dean’s mouth to open for his tongue; John kissed him deeply, trying to convey every ounce of pride and adoration that he'd ever felt for his omega son with the passion of his kiss. Finally, after several breathless moments, John pulled away. A thick string of saliva connected them for a moment, Dean’s mouth hanging open and his eyelids heavy; John imagined that he could see the young boy’s breath steaming between them, tiny puffs of heated air. John’s cock was hard in his pants, and he tenderly took Dean’s hand and brought it to his groin.

“You feel that?" He held Dean's hand in place so that he could grind against it, so that he could show Dean what he could do even with a broken cunt. “You made me feel good just by being yourself. Your slutty body can do that without even trying, no omega hole required.” 

He bent down and planted one final kiss onto his son’s lips while Dean hesitantly stroked him, cupping his fingers around John’s hot length. Then, with a smile, John pulled Dean into another hug.

“You’ve always been so much more than just a tight little cunt, Deano. Don’t you ever forget that.”

—

Dean fidgeted and squirmed in his seat at the dinner table that night. He was trying not to wince at the pressure of the hard wood on his bruised bottom and sore hole, but not succeeding. Every movement made him grimace and he had barely touched his food.

“Can I be excused?” he finally asked John after barely five minutes.

Sam gazed at his brother wide-eyed from his seat beside him, cheeks a little pink. He'd been transfixed by the handprint bruises on Dean’s butt when John had earlier shown him Dean’s broken hole and explained that Sam couldn't use it until after the doctor told them what was wrong.

“You've gotta finish your dinner, kiddo,” John told Dean with an expression of sympathy. “You haven't eaten since breakfast, and you need food to get better.”

Dean pouted and stared down at his full plate. He shifted, gingerly leaning to one side and then the other with a muffled whimper.

“I can’t,” he whined. “I don't feel like eating. It hurts too much.”

“Is your hole worse?” John asked worriedly, but Dean shook his head.

“Just. Just the spanking. But I don't feel good. I’m not hungry.”

Sighing, John put his fork down onto his plate. He motioned for Dean to get up and come to him; Dean did so with relief, leaving a wide stripe of slick from his widely open cunt streaked across his chair when he slid off of it. He limped around the table to his father’s side on shaky legs; John cupped Dean’s ass in his palm and squished it a little, watching his son swallow a whimper and bite his lip.

“You know what I always say about a spanking,” John said gently. Even though John preferred other punishment methods at home, when Dean had to get spanked at school then he had to accept the consequences: if he was too sore to sit for dinner, then he didn't get to eat.

“Yeah, I know.” Dean looked down at the floor between his feet. John continued to gently finger his boy’s bruises, just enough to make the pain glow without hurting like the chair did.

“But I really do want you to eat tonight. Do you think you can finish your dinner standing by the table?”

Remorsefully, Dean shook his head.

“I’m not hungry,” he repeated, sounding a little distressed. “I don't want to, Dad. I don't feel good.”

“Are you nauseous? Does your stomach hurt?”

Dean hesitated before shaking his head. John sighed; it seemed clear to him that Dean’s loss of appetite was caused by the stress of the day and the fact that John wasn't feeding his cock-hungry little hole (not-so-little as it was in its currently-damaged state). With Dean’s poor cunt so loose and open, perhaps the young omega couldn't feel the hunger pangs of his empty stomach buried underneath the much more powerful hunger of his empty hole.

“Alright,” John sighed. “I want you to go get your dog bed and put it under the table in front of me.”

Dean nodded and went to find the soft bed in the living room, returning a minute later. John backed his chair away from the dinner table to give his son room to position the cushion, and then nodded for Dean to crawl onto it. When Dean was settled on his knees, hands twisting nervously in front of him, John scooted his chair forward again until he could easily reach and continue his dinner.

“Dad?” Dean asked uncertainly, and John opened his knees, spreading his legs until Dean could comfortably fit between them. John reached down to unbutton and unzip his pants, then pulled his flaccid cock out from the slit in his underwear.

“You comfy?” he asked his son. “Are your knees alright?”

“Yeah,” Dean answered softly.

“Good. I think you're feeling bad because your omega hole is so hungry. So since we can't feed your sloppy little cunt tonight, sweetheart, I’m gonna feed your slutty face-hole instead.”

John reached out his hand under the table, and a moment later felt his son’s cheek nuzzle into his palm. John stroked Dean’s face for a moment before gently wrapping his fingers through the boy’s dark blond hair and using the tender grip to pull him towards his cock.

“I want you to keep me warm, okay? It’ll make your slutty body feel better since we can't satisfy your cunt.” He reached out with one of his feet and nudged between Dean’s legs at his messy gape, feeling those slackened walls slide against his big toe. Dean’s hips twitched in response, shocked at the teasing touch. “And I know you don't feel good enough to eat your food, but you need to swallow my cum, alright? You need the protein, baby. It’ll help you get better.”

There was a moment of quiet as Dean contemplated, his sweet little breaths warm on the flesh of John’s cock. John looked down at his son’s tousled head between his legs and carded his fingers through Dean’s soft hair. He knew that Dean’s reluctance wasn't about having his mouth used; John had fucked Dean’s face a couple more times since sharing him with Bill Harvelle two weeks ago, and had even sized up his deepthroat training dildo. It was just the mental block of his injury that was convincing him that he didn't want to eat. Dean had to work through it; he needed his father’s cum. His poor body – so much sluttier and needier than those of other omegas – couldn't go so long without pleasing an alpha’s cock. 

“C’mon, kiddo. You'll feel better after you’re full.”

Finally, Dean nodded, and John used his hand to prop up his penis. It was still soft, but getting harder at its proximity to his son’s slutty holes. 

John watched with fatherly affection as Dean leaned forward and touched his pink lips to his Alpha’s glans, almost like a chaste kiss. Dean hesitated for only a moment more before opening his mouth and swallowing John’s cock until his face was nestled in the open fly of John’s jeans. 

Dean raised his arms and wrapped them around John’s waist, settling in, and John closed his knees until they were pressing firmly against his son’s rib cage and holding him steady. Dean was able to release every ounce of tension in his body and just let go; his dad was supporting him, taking care of him, holding him tight. He didn't have to focus on staying upright, didn't have to feel any pain on his bruised rear. All he had to think about was the weight of his Alpha’s cock in his slutty little mouth.

“That’s a good boy,” John said, petting Dean’s hair. Dean huffed out a sigh through his nose and began to suck.

When John returned to his plate, he found Sam leaning down to peer underneath the dinner table at his brother’s bruised butt and open cunt.

“Sammy, focus on your own dinner,” John told him sternly, and Sam jumped, bumping his head on the underside of the table on his way to sit up straight. “Let Dean eat in peace, okay?”

John, Sam and Dean continued with their meals. Sam picked through his peas, John steadily chewed his roasted chicken, and Dean sucked his father’s cock. Over a period of ten minutes or so, John felt his cock harden in Dean’s mouth and slowly fill it, eventually forcing open the boy’s tight throat. Dean had to adjust the angle of his neck to accommodate, but he didn't gag. He was well-trained.

Dean’s face-hole was inexperienced compared to his well-worn omega hole but it was warm and wet, his tongue hesitant and exploratory. John continued to pet him and scratch his scalp gently, appreciating the lovely slick suction around him. Eventually, once he was finished with his dinner, John leaned back in his chair to watch his son. He combed through Dean's honey-blond hair with both hands.

Freckled cheek resting against his father’s thigh, Dean’s eyes were closed, his expression relaxed despite how widely stretched his jaw was around John’s length. Dean breathed through his nose, his luscious pink lips stretched tight as he continued to suckle. Every once in a while, Dean would try to suck back his spit with a wet slurp to no avail; John’s underwear was soaked, but he didn't mind. He was just happy to be able to give his baby some relief.

“That's right,” John murmured soothingly, stroking the side of his thumb against the hollow of Dean’s cheek. “You’re being such a good hole, sweetheart. You don't need your cunt to make your Alpha feel good, just your mouth is enough.”

“Mmh,” Dean sighed around his dad’s hot length, tightening his arms a little. John rubbed his biceps fondly.

“I'm done with my dinner,” Sam announced. “Can we go watch TV?”

Sure enough, the little alpha’s plate was clean. John considered it for a moment – he hadn't come yet, after all, so Dean wasn't finished – but then nodded.

“Sure, Sammy,” he agreed. Looking down at Dean, he smiled and patted the omega’s arms. “C’mon, champ.” He used his foot to nudge Dean’s wet little cunt again and felt it squish against his toes. “Let's go. You can finish your dinner while we sit on the couch with Sammy.”

He gently tugged his son’s face away from his groin, sliding the wet sleeve of Dean’s mouth off of his erect cock with a slick sound. Dean’s eyelashes fluttered as he looked up and met John’s gaze with dazed green eyes; his face was flushed a lovely shade of pink, his lips swollen and wet. He pondered John’s words for a little too long – clearly a little slick-addled, John noted affectionately – before nodding.

“Okay, Dad,” he said in a rough voice barely above a whisper.

In the living room, John fit the dog bed between the couch and the coffee table in front of his usual spot where the leather cushion was dented from his weight. Then he sat all the way back into the deep seat and spread his legs.

Sam sat next to him and Dean knelt in front of him. The couch cushion was deep and squishy, and Dean bent practically horizontal, chest and belly pressed against the supple leather and his bruised little butt presented to the TV as he swallowed down his father’s hard length again.

John tucked a soft, fuzzy blanket over his lap and around Dean’s nude body as Sam chose a TV show. Then, he sank back into his seat with one hand on the back of his omega son's head as the show started. Pleasure ebbed and flowed in John’s groin as Dean nursed on his cock. He could have come a while ago, but John was trying to stave off his climax for as long as he could; he wanted Dean to be able to savor this. 

Eventually, though, the lovely wet warmth of Dean’s sucking did pull John over the edge. As he felt his orgasm building, John backed Dean’s face off of his length a bit so that his knot wouldn’t form inside of Dean’s mouth.

“Harder,” John told him, and the suction increased as Dean curled his tongue around his father’s girth. John gasped and, taking Dean’s sweet little face between both hands, began to slowly move his son’s head back and forth along the length of his cock, rocking him on his knees and using him like a fleshlight.

John groaned, tilting his head back and closing his eyes to focus on the wet heat squeezing around his length. “Fuck, baby… Your slutty mouth feels so good. You're so good at sucking Dad’s cock.”

Dean whimpered as his face was fucked up and down the length of his dad’s dick and sucked harder, drooling wet and messy onto John’s underwear. John used his grip on the sides of Dean’s head to adjust the angle a bit and make sure that his cock was sliding straight down the omega's throat instead of battering the back of his mouth.

As pleasure built and built in John’s gut, Dean continued to make tiny sounds in his chest as his face was used as a cocksleeve. Dean's hands were braced atop his dad’s legs, fingers digging into the hard muscle and scratching against the denim. A tiny wet spot was visible through the fuzzy blanket where it was draped over his upturned cunt, and underneath it slick was trailing sluggishly down Dean’s bruised thighs; John noticed the soaked patch of blanket and it sent a thrill through him.

“God, you like this so much, don't you? You fucking love it, pleasing Alpha's cock with your holes. It's 'cause this is what you were made for, baby; getting fucked and used and making your Alpha feel good.”

When Dean let out a buzzing hum, John’s hips stuttered, and his cock hit the back of Dean’s throat in such a way that it made him gag (a rarity after the many months of oral training that he’d undergone). The convulsion of that tight wet hole around John’s cock made him see stars, and he pushed Dean’s face down until his lips were pressed against John’s bulging knot and came hard.

“Fuck,” John moaned, blinking his eyes open with satisfied relief and looking up at the ceiling. He could feel the rhythmic tight heat of Dean swallowing around him, carrying him through the aftershocks.

As John came down from his climax, breathing hard, he turned his gaze back to the young boy between his legs. Dean’s cheeks were glowing red and glistening wet with overwhelmed tears, his eyelashes stuck together. The seal of his lips was tight around his dad’s cock, nose pressed against John’s knot, catching every last drop of cum. John would feed his boy well.

Tenderly, John used a corner of the blanket to wipe the sticky tears from his son’s freckled cheeks and then rubbed Dean’s back as the boy continued to gulp down his dinner. Dean’s slender back moved gently under his hand as Dean nursed from his cock, and a feeling of such fond tenderness filled John’s chest.

He wondered if this was how Mary had felt while breastfeeding. Dean’s sweet little body was cradled safely between his legs, Dean’s sweet little mouth was suckling around him… John was nourishing his baby with his own body, giving him cum like Mary had given him milk. John could picture his little infant boy in the arms of his wife, and the memory made John blink back tears as he cupped the back of Dean’s head in his hand and pulled him closer. Dean grunted a little bit around the cock that he was still feeding from.

“That's it, baby,” John whispered. He could feel the rhythmic swallowing as Dean kept up with the outflow of cum. “I’ve got you. That's better, isn't it? Don't you feel so good?”

“Mmmh,” Dean whined, voice muffled. A little bit of cum escaped the loosened seal of his lips and drooled down the corner of his mouth; John smeared it over Dean's cheek with the side of his thumb.

“Ssh," he whispered. “Of course you do, you feel so fucking good. You're so slick for it. It's okay, baby, I know.” He twisted his fingers into his son's hair and tugged on it lightly until Dean moaned and the wet patch on the blanket darkened further. “Because it's not just your omega hole that was made for me, sweetheart, it's everything. Every cock-hungry inch of your slutty body was made to please me. No matter what happens, you'll always be able to. It's what you were made for. It's what you are.”

The flood of cum tapered off within a minute and Dean nursed on nothing for a while, his wet sucking simply cleaning his father’s softening cock. The tiny noises he made were familiar – god, they were the same ones that he used to make when Mary’s breast ran dry – and John felt overcome with bittersweet nostalgia all over again.

“Dean,” John whispered, rubbing his baby's back in circles and patting it. “My slutty little boy. You'll always be mine. My baby. My omega.”

Dean mumbled unintelligibly and nodded around his mouthful. He pressed closer, snuggling up between John’s legs, and John welcomed him with a warm hand on the back of his neck and a tightening of his thighs around Dean’s ribs. Sam reached over and petted his big brother’s hair, making Dean whine lowly in his chest.

“Me too, right?” Sam asked hesitantly. “He's gonna be my omega one day, so he was made to please me too, right?”

John laughed and nodded, wrapping his arm around his alpha son's shoulders and pulling him into a side-hug.

“Of course he was, Sammy. We're his Alphas; his body was made to please both of us.”

As they contentedly finished their TV show, John reached out and idly rubbed at the wet patch of blanket that covered Dean’s sopping cunt. He could feel the slickened fabric squish against the blown-out walls beneath it. Dean’s hips twitched with each pass of John’s fingers over his covered hole, but the hole itself remained slack and loose.

“Everything’s gonna be okay, Dean,” John comforted. Whatever the doctor told them tomorrow, of that, at least, John was certain.

Chapter 29: Broken Hole (Part 1): Doctor's Visit

Dean’s hands were so shaky that he could barely hold his fork to eat his eggs with during breakfast. He'd been trembling all morning, and there were dark circles under his eyes; he hadn't been able to fall asleep at all last night. He’d been too overcome with anxiety about the upcoming doctor’s visit.

A part of Dean had been hoping that his hole would’ve tightened up overnight like usual. Even if it hadn't gone all the way back to normal, if it had been at least noticeably better then maybe Dad would have thought it would be okay to cancel the appointment and just let Dean finish getting better at home. But no luck. Dean had been up all night horribly aware of the gaping looseness between his legs, and every time that he'd touched himself to see if anything was different, there'd been no change.

Sam had noticed Dean’s anxiety last night – he’d been able to smell it – and had crawled into Dean’s bed to cuddle him and try to calm him down. The little alpha had fallen asleep with his face buried in Dean’s armpit and his hand between Dean’s legs gently cupping Dean’s useless cunt. But even Sam curled up against Dean’s side hadn't been able to help him fall asleep. He was too scared.

What if the doctor found out about the slick sickness?

He hadn't gotten all slick-sick since last Monday when he’d made those high school boys use him and forced Coach Brady to fuck his ass. But Dean didn't know when it would happen again; if it was just random or if it got triggered by something he did. And he didn't know what all the signs and symptoms were. What if his hole breaking was a symptom itself? What if, when the doctor examined Dean’s hole, he'd be able to tell?

What if this was the last morning that Dean would ever get to eat breakfast with his dad and Sammy?

(What if yesterday was the last time that he'd ever get to kiss Benny?)

“Are you doing okay, kiddo?” Dad asked, and Dean looked up from his plate. “Is your butt still sore?”

Dean shifted in his seat. Dad was wearing an expression of concern as he looked at Dean from across the table, and Dean felt a horrible pang in his chest at the thought of how his dad would look after he got told that his omega was too sick and slutty and had to be taken away.

“I'm. I'm okay.” His spanked ass was still sore, nearly as bad as it'd been yesterday, but the ache was an almost welcome distraction from his tumultuous thoughts and fears. “I just. Didn't get any sleep last night.”

“He was scared,” Sam offered through a mouthful of cereal, milk dribbling down his chin. Dean glared at him.

“I wasn’t scared,” he denied. “I was just. Just nervous, is all.” He stared back down at his plate, at his half-eaten eggs and the crumbs leftover from three slices of bacon. He was gripping his fork tight enough that his knuckles were turning white.

“Nervous, huh?” Dad asked. Dean nodded, and his dad reached across the table to squeeze his hand comfortingly. “I know. It's gonna be okay, kiddo, I promise. The doctor will be able to fix you right up. I'm sure your hole will be good as new before the weekend.”

After breakfast, Sam and Dean went upstairs to brush their teeth. The phone rang downstairs while Dean was flossing, and he heard Dad answer it. His low voice rumbled up through the stairwell while Sam brushed his hair, which Dad had let grow nearly down to his shoulders.

“Are you really scared that the doctor's not gonna be able to fix your omega hole?” Sam asked hesitantly.

Dean stared at his reflection in the mirror and shrugged. He looked pale, his face messy with dirty-looking freckles and dark circles smudged underneath his eyes. One of his nipples was red and chafed because Sam had rubbed and pinched it a lot in his sleep. His skin was still marred by faint rope marks and the dark hand-print bruises, and he could feel his inner walls slide and squish together with every small shift of his hips. Dean was glad that he had such loving alphas because there was no way that anyone else would ever want to buy him; not an ugly, slutty omega like Dean was, with a wrecked hole and slick sickness.

Sam startled Dean out of his rumination by hugging him. Dean looked down to see Sam’s big, hazel eyes gazing up at him as his little fingers tightened around his ribs.

“Don’t worry, Dean,” Sam told him. “It’s gonna be okay.”

Dean smiled and hugged his little brother back.

“Thanks, Sammy.”

After Sam was done getting ready for the bus, Dean walked back downstairs with him. When they re-entered the kitchen, Dad was smiling.

“The omega clinic just called,” he told Dean. “Dr. Roberts had a cancellation and she saw you on Dr. Evans’ schedule and said if we wanted to see her instead, we could come in at 11:30.”

Part of Dean was relieved – he didn't want a stranger looking so closely at the embarrassing state of his hole – but part of him was scared, too. Dr. Roberts knew his body so well. If anyone could tell that he had slick sickness, it would be her.

But he forced a small smile in response to his dad’s, even though he couldn't force himself to speak.

–

After they waved Sam off to the bus stop, Dad dug Dean’s chastity onesie out of the downstairs closet where they kept their winter clothes. It was a firetruck-red zippered jumpsuit made of a soft cotton fabric – kind of like pajamas – with the words “OUT OF SERVICE” printed in black on the front and the back. 

Dean hated the onesie; it was so bright and obvious and it always made him feel like everyone was looking at him and wondering what was wrong with him when he wore it. But the other chastity options for sick or damaged omegas were even worse, so Dean was grateful that this was the kind that his dad liked to use because at least it was comfortable and covered more than just his public parts. When one of Dean’s omega classmates, Maxi, had returned to school after his penectomy, he’d been able to wear nothing but his locked, metal chastity G-string over his bandages until he was fully healed (Maxi’s Alpha did still sometimes send him to school in nothing but a G-string, because he liked showing off how smooth his omega was down there, but at least it was just soft fabric instead of unforgiving steel).

Dad let Dean put the onesie on and zip it up himself, then Dad put the small padlock that he kept on his key ring through the loops on the zipper and the collar and locked it, preventing anyone other than himself from unzipping it. The lock was more of a precaution than anything – most alphas accepted an omega being out of service just fine – but his dad preferred to use it ever since an alpha had tried to unzip Dean himself while Dad was distracted after having argued that a sprained ankle wasn’t enough of a reason to put an omega out of service. Ever since Dad had added the lock, without the key that Dad kept on his key ring, someone would need to use scissors to access Dean’s hole.

The onesie was pretty small on him since it was so old. The last time that Dean had been put out of service was almost a year ago; he’d gotten the flu and Dad hadn't been able to take off work to take care of him. So instead of staying home, Dean had been brought to the auto shop and allowed to curl up under a blanket on the beaten-up couch that Dad had in his office. Dad had dressed Dean in his chastity onesie so that the other auto guys knew not to ask to use him since he was sick (though hopefully all of the puking would have turned them off anyway).  

“It’s a little small for you, huh?” Dad asked. Dean pouted, looking down at where the crotch was riding up between his legs and squishing him uncomfortably.

His dad reached down and gently adjusted Dean’s penis, then fondled him a little bit through the soft fabric after making sure that the onesie wasn’t digging into his public parts anymore. Dean bit his lip and pushed his hips into his dad’s hand like he knew that Dad liked him to, and was rewarded with a chuckle. His dad pulled his hand away after a final squeeze and then ruffled Dean’s hair.

“Sorry, bud, you’re just growing up too fast for me. We’ll swing by the omega supply store on the way home to buy you a new one, okay?”

Since the new doctor’s appointment was a bit later than the first one had been, Dad took Dean with him to the auto shop so that he could get a couple hours of work done before they went. The other mechanics were disappointed to see Dean in chastity, and they teased him a little bit for looking like a baby in the onesie but not really in a mean way. When they asked what was wrong, Dad just told them that Dean had hurt his leg, which Dean was grateful for. And Tom gave him a bag of peanut M&Ms and ruffled his hair. Tom was always nice.

“Gotta make sure my favorite tool holder is in tip-top shape,” Tom said with a wink, making Dean blush as he handed over the candy. “Keep your energy up and come back to visit when you're better.”

The next hour and a half was spent with Dean cuddled up between Dad's legs underneath his desk, keeping his cock warm while he worked his way through a pile of paperwork. Dean dozed a bit, eyes closed and the heavy weight of his dad’s flaccid penis soft and warm on his tongue. Dad wasn't trying to relieve himself; he just wanted to make Dean feel better by keeping him full in at least one hole. 

Dean guessed that it must have worked a little bit, maybe. He'd really liked the feeling of his dad’s fingers carding through his hair and lightly scratching on his scalp, and the way that Dad had occasionally stroked his cheek and told him that he was being a good boy. And he must have enjoyed having a cock in his mouth a lot, because the seat of his onesie had slowly darkened as slick soaked through it, and later – when Dad tenderly helped him, dazedly, to his feet – Dean left a small puddle on the ground for the cleaning lady to mop up.

–

There were three other omegas in the waiting room when they arrived at the clinic at 11:15, but Dean was the only one in chastity. Two of them were older omegas. One of them looked even older than Dad, which was crazy because Dean almost never saw omegas that were Dad’s age. Dean didn’t think that he’d ever get to be that old; he didn’t think that sluts like him lived that long.

The last omega was a teenager who looked almost Benny’s age. He had soft skin and large, firm breasts underneath a mesh shirt. Nipple rings with heart-shaped crystals glinted through the sheer fabric. His crotchless pants showed that he was cut, and his small penis – smaller than Dean’s – was locked in a sparkling cock cage that was studded with rhinestones.

The teenage omega glanced up at Dean and eyed him up and down. Dean tensed, expecting for the older boy to laugh or smirk at him, but after a moment the boy just gave him a small but genuine smile and then looked back down at his cell phone, which was protected by a glittery pink jelly case.

The boy’s Alpha, on the other hand, raised an eyebrow scathingly when he saw Dean fully clothed in his chastity onesie. Alphas always judged Dean for trying to pretend that he wasn’t a slutty cocksleeve by covering up and dressing almost like a normal boy. Even though he was only wearing those clothes because his own Alpha let him. Dad always told Dean that he was a slut no matter what he wore, so he might as well wear the clothes that made him feel the most comfortable. Dean wished that other alphas would feel the same way.

Dean looked down at his knees and leaned over in his chair against his dad’s bicep, wincing just a little as his bruised thighs rolled on the seat of the chair. Dad adjusted his position so that he could wrap his arm around Dean’s shoulders and tuck Dean’s face into his side. Breathing deeply, Dean burrowed his face into his dad’s ribs and tried to pretend that he was somewhere else.

“John Winchester?” a perky voice finally called. Dean looked up to see a medical assistant – not the same as the one from last time – smiling out at the room from the door back into the medical offices. Dad squeezed him and then rubbed his arm.

“You ready, kiddo?”

–

John had never seen Dean looking so nervous at a doctor’s appointment before. The young omega was trembling, face looking wan and serious with dark circles under his eyes. The bitter scent of stress was hanging in a cloud around him, and it thickened as he shifted on the exam table.

“It’s gonna be alright, Dean,” John comforted. “Take a few deep breaths, sweetheart, you need to relax.”

The exam room that they were in today was a little bigger than usual. Other than the familiar exam table, this room also had an ultrasound machine; John wasn’t sure what it could be for, since it wasn’t like Dean could be pregnant. Omegas didn’t have wombs, just fuckholes.

Dr. Roberts was a welcome face; she didn’t make them wait more than a couple of minutes, and greeted both John and Dean with a smile and a sincere expression of concern.

“I’m so glad that I could make time to see you today,” she told them as she washed her hands. “It will make it far easier for me to diagnose the issue since I’m so familiar with Dean’s omega hole.”

“Me too,” John nodded. “You wouldn't believe how glad I was to get that call this morning.” 

Dr. Roberts smiled at him and then turned to Dean. She reached out and squeezed his knee.

“I read through the notes that were left by the nurse from your Alpha’s phone call last night, but I’d like to hear from you what happened, Dean. Can you describe the incident for me?”

Dean inhaled shakily and glanced at John and then back at his doctor. 

“Um. I had a h-hole spreader in. At school yesterday. And.”

He paused, swallowing and looking down at the floor. John reached out to cup his hand around the back of Dean’s neck and squeezed it slightly to ground him.

“M-my teacher,” Dean continued. “Um, she opened it real wide. The spreader. And I felt something… snap, inside. And then m-my hole got real loose. And it hasn’t gone back to normal.”

“I see. Well, why don't I take a look and see if I can help?”

Dr. Roberts helped to guide Dean’s feet into the stirrups and wrap the cuffs around his wrists and ankles like usual. John stood next to the table, stroking his hand through Dean’s hair to try to soothe the trembling omega until he was finally situated. Then, he bent down to kiss Dean reassuringly on the mouth. Dean whimpered a little puff of warm air against John’s lips when he finally pulled away.

“Mr. Winchester, can you help put this blindfold on Dean? I think it will help calm him down a little and make the examination less stressful for him. And then, when you’re finished, why don't you come around behind me.”

John took the blindfold that Dr. Roberts offered him. It wasn’t like the comfortable padded one that John used on his son at home; it was a little stiff and made of vinyl instead of soft fabric. John pulled it over Dean’s head and adjusted the elastic strap until it was properly positioned, then brushed his thumb across Dean’s plush, parted lips. Dean kissed the pad of his thumb needily and struggled a little bit, rattling the chain links on the cords that connected his wist cuffs to the stirrups.

John walked around to stand behind the doctor. He watched, wide-eyed, as the woman’s latex-clad fingers reached out to prod gently around the circumference of Dean’s squishy rim. John had been face to face with his son’s sloppy hole last night (he’d had Dean face-down and bent over the coffee table to inspect it, after all), but Dean’s legs had been closed, then; now, they were widely spread and the size of the young boy’s gaping cunt was shocking.

Usually, at this time of morning, Dean’s hole was a sweet pink slit. The soft mouth of his entrance would be tight, grip vice-like when John slipped in a finger, only opening when his cheeks were spread wide. As the day went on and Dean started to see some use, that hole would soften; it’d redden with friction, possibly swell a little, and by the end of the day it’d be loose and wet and make a cute sloppy sound when John sank his cock effortlessly into its twitching depths. And then, no matter what state it was in when Dean finally fell asleep, it was always back to a tight little slit in the morning.

Not now, though. It wasn’t that tiny, twitching entrance, only maybe an inch or so long. It wasn’t that soft, pale slit with a hint of silky pink peeking out, delicately splitting Dean's perineum in two. No. Now, instead, it seemed that there was nothing left between Dean’s legs but a gaping hole; it stretched from nearly just beneath his balls all the way down to his tight little asshole. John was frankly floored that his sweet boy’s cunt could have reached that state without tearing.

“You’re a very brave boy, aren’t you?” Dr. Roberts said softly as she fingered around the saggy entrance, a serious expression on her face.

“Is it b-bad?” Dean asked quietly. John forced a smile and reached out to squeeze his boy’s sweet toes.

“Let’s just let Dr. Roberts do her job, alright, honey?” 

With both hands, the doctor pinched a section of Dean’s lax rim.

“Deep breath for me, Dean. You're going to feel a little pinch.”

Then, she pulled her hands apart, expanding Dean's rim as if she was testing the stretch of a rubber band. It stretched between her fingers until Dean whimpered and the skin was blanched white, and when she released it, it slowly shrank back to its previous state, now reddened.

“Good boy, that’s done. Your entrance still has some elasticity, which is a very promising sign.”

The doctor then gently prodded and pinched at the glistening pink inner walls that were plump and accessible just inside the swollen rim. 

“How does that feel? Any pain? Soreness, tenderness?”

Dean shook his head. “No.”

“Lovely. I’m going to insert the speculum now, okay? Let me know as soon as anything hurts at all.”

Just like she usually did, Dr. Roberts had the tray of speculums on the counter beside her. Last time had been the first time that Dean had required use of the adult speculum; this time, Dr. Roberts reached for the monstrous extra-large one without hesitation. John felt his legs grow a little weak at the sight of that huge metal contraption lowered between his son’s legs. It was at least a foot long and wider across the curved blade than the breadth of his palm. So as not to upset the blindfolded omega, Dr. Roberts kindly didn’t mention aloud what size she was using.

“Alright, in it goes,” Dr. Roberts said as she slid the instrument soundlessly into Dean’s gaping hole. The young boy’s cunt gobbled it up effortlessly, though Dean shivered at the cold, unyielding steel. Dr. Roberts held it there for a few seconds, letting Dean adjust. “Everything feel okay?”

After a moment, Dean gave a tiny, stilted nod. “Y-yeah.”

“That's very good. I'm going to open the speculum now, and I want you to tell me the moment you feel a stretch.”

The beta woman began to slowly open the speculum, the blades spreading apart with tiny metallic clicks and opening the young boy’s flabby cunt. It wasn't until the gaping hole was large enough that John could have inserted his fist without touching the sides that Dean let out a small noise.

“Nnh. Um, it feels. A little stretched.”

“Good boy. Any pain at all? How does it feel?”

Dean licked his lips. “Feels okay.”

“Wonderful.” 

The doctor pulled her penlight out of her breast pocket and shone it into Dean’s open cunt, peering all the way up into the young boy's core. John couldn’t help but think to himself about how hollow Dean was inside, how achingly empty he must feel; John wished that he could take his sweet boy into his arms and fill him up.

“Everything looks alright inside, Dean. No visible tearing. I’m going to palpate your internal walls now and see if I can feel anything.”

When Dr. Roberts inserted her arm, it looked nearly dwarfed by the size of Dean’s gape. Her wrist was so thin compared to the black hole that it disappeared into; it looked less like she was reaching into a little boy's cunt, and more like she was rummaging through a small but deep bucket. She felt all around inside of Dean’s body with a small furrow of concentration between her brows.

“Nngh,” Dean whimpered, and the doctor’s hand stilled.

“Did that hurt?”

Dean bit his lip and then shook his head. When Dr. Roberts repeated the movement, Dean’s penis twitched, filling a little.

“Nnhh, sorry,” Dean sniffled. His wrists twisted in their cuffs.

“That's alright, it's perfectly natural. And much preferable to pain.”

The internal exam was finished quickly after that, and Dr. Roberts closed and then withdrew the speculum, leaving Dean’s cunt a slack, blown-open mess. His inner walls were quick to collapse and fill the empty space left behind, but for just a moment, John was still able to see straight to the end of his son’s dark tunnel.

“Can you try to push out for me?” Dr. Roberts asked kindly. “Stop if you feel any discomfort.”

Dean sniffled and then grunted, abs tensing as he struggled to push. The swollen walls of his pouty hole glistened under the harsh lights but did not shift or protrude further even after having been stretched so wide by the massive speculum. John was relieved at that. He watched Dean’s effort for several long seconds, mesmerized, before realizing that he was half-hard in his pants while staring down at his baby’s ruined hole. John quickly adjusted himself as Dr. Roberts comfortingly patted the sloppy cunt.

“Alright, that's very good. There's no prolapsing at all. Thank you, Dean.” Dr. Roberts peeled off her gloves and then threw them into the trash before pulling on another pair. “Now I’m going to take a brief ultrasound, and then we can discuss my findings.”

As the doctor stood and began moving around the ultrasound machine, readying the equipment, John walked once more up to his son’s side and rubbed Dean’s chest. 

“What’s the ultrasound for?” John asked. “I don’t understand. I thought that was for looking at babies?”

“Ultrasounds can be used as a diagnostic tool for a wide variety of things,” Dr. Roberts informed him. “It will be able to help me see any soft tissue damage in and around Dean’s omega hole.”

The transducer that the doctor wielded was long and shaped more like a probe than the one that John remembered from Mary’s pregnancies. The reason for the shape of the transducer was made clear when Dr. Roberts lowered it between Dean’s legs.

“This is a convex transducer. It's most commonly used for transvaginal and transrectal ultrasounds, but can of course be used in omega holes as well.” She squeezed Dean's toes in warning. “I’m going to insert it into your omega hole, Dean; it’ll be more comfortable than the speculum was. It's not even as thick as a penis.” 

She glanced up at John’s hand, which was still rubbing comforting circles onto Dean’s naked chest. “Please don’t touch his torso, Mr. Winchester, as it might interfere with imaging.”

John pulled his hand away from Dean’s chest. At the whimper that the loss of physical contact drew from his son, he rested it instead on top of Dean’s head. He scratched idly at Dean’s scalp while he watched Dr. Roberts; she circled Dean’s rim with the bulbous tip of the transducer probe and then slowly, with her eyes on the ultrasound screen, slid the probe into Dean’s body.

Dean shuddered as the probe was inserted into his cunt, his hands balling up into fists and toes curling. 

“You’re doing such a good job, sweetheart,” John soothed. Dean shifted and squirmed, his ruined hole slipping along the probe with his movement. “You’re being a real trooper.”

“Alright, I’m going to be moving it around so I can get a full picture,” Dr. Roberts warned as she adjusted the angle of the probe. She pushed the handle in and John saw a little bulge in Dean’s lower abdomen appear for a moment before retreating; Dean let out a squeak and his cock throbbed again, stiffening further and beginning to perk up.

“Try to rein in your physical reactions as much as you can,” Dr. Roberts told him gently.

“Sorry,” Dean sniffed.

“No worries at all, just do your best. I’m very glad to see that your body is still responding to stimulus like it normally does. I’ll be able to see what I need to regardless, it will just take a little longer.” 

John was again thankful that it was Dr. Roberts who was seeing Dean today; she was so understanding and kind about Dean’s sluttiness. 

After few minutes or so of probing around Dean’s insides, Dr. Roberts finally retracted the probe and set it aside.

“Alright, all done. Mr. Winchester, you can go ahead and remove his blindfold and help him take off the cuffs. I'll wash my hands and then we can discuss Dean’s condition.”

After Dean was unbound and sitting back up on the table, eyes red and lower lip a little wobbly, John stood beside him and wrapped his arm around his son. Dean leaned into his side, one small hand coming up and tightening around the hem of his shirt. Dean’s other hand was between his own legs, pressed against his hole as if trying to hold himself shut. 

“So,” Dr. Roberts started gently, hands clasped in front of her, “There is nothing medically wrong with Dean’s omega hole.” 

John blinked. Dean didn't seem to react at all; he was looking off into the middle distance.

“There’s no sign of tearing, and he’s not in any pain,” Dr. Roberts continued. “I didn't feel anything concerning during my physical examination, and the ultrasound showed nothing abnormal. No injury.”

John gaped for a few moments, nearly too shocked for words. “But…”

Dr. Roberts held up her hand to make John pause. “Now, obviously, something did happen; I have only had to use that size speculum a few times before, all on elderly omegas that had seen quite a lot of extreme use. And I truly believe Dean when he says that he felt something ‘snap’ inside his omega hole. But, whatever that was, there is no indication that it was an injury that requires medical attention.”

“But… That can’t be right,” John protested, shaking his head and squeezing his arm around his son, pulling Dean tightly against him. “How… How? I don't understand. You can see it, it looks different. Something happened to it.”

Dr. Roberts nodded. Her expression was one of compassion. “Please trust me, I know. But I can only diagnose based on what I can observe. The current state of Dean’s hole indicates that it's very… well-used, but not injured.” She paused to let John process her words before continuing. “It's possible that Dean suffered some sort of internal injury when he was younger that led to scar tissue adhesion; perhaps what he felt was the adhesion unbinding and freeing his omega hole to its full potential. But that’s just a guess.”

“But… He can't even clench down. Doesn't that indicate something’s damaged? A strained muscle, something?”

“A muscle strain, sprain or tear of any kind would be very painful for Dean, and would be accompanied by visible swelling and bruising. Regardless, any soft tissue damage would have been obvious with the ultrasound, which showed nothing. How well did Dean sleep last night?”

John glanced down to see if Dean would answer, but his son was silent.

“Not well. I don't think he slept at all.”

Dr. Roberts nodded. “Sleep is very important for a healthy omega hole. Studies have shown that the tightness, elasticity and durability of omega holes is highly correlated with the duration and quality of an omega’s sleep. It’s clear that Dean’s hole would have taken longer than usual to bounce back anyway, but I’m guessing that his stress and insomnia have prolonged his refractory period.”

“It’s not just how loose he is, though! He can’t even clench,” John reiterated, tone colored by his anxiety and frustration. Dr. Roberts took it in stride.

“Yes, I know. I believe that Dean’s present lack of muscle control is psychosomatic.”

“Psychoso… You're saying it's all in his head? That he's making it up?” His voice had started to rise, and the scent of his agitation was making Dean tremble. Dr. Roberts did not back down, however; she held up her hand and shook her head.

“In a medical context, Mr. Winchester, psychosomatic symptoms aren't ‘made up’. The brain is a very powerful organ, and when confronted with extreme emotional stress, it can impact the body in very real and uncontrollable ways. Just because Dean’s lack of muscle control isn't caused by any physical injury doesn't mean that it isn't real. He will need physical therapy to exercise his pelvic floor and help him recover full mobility in his hole. But I have every confidence that he will make a total recovery.”

She finally looked away from John, picking up her clipboard from the table and scribbling on it.

“I’m going to prescribe Dean some sedatives – sleeping pills – that he will need to take daily while he recovers. It’s very important that he gets plenty of good, quality sleep. I’m also going to make a referral to the omega physical therapist; I'd like Dean to go as soon as possible. Would you be able to take him tomorrow?”

Still somewhat floored, John simply nodded until he realized that she wasn't looking at him. “Yes,” he croaked, and Dr. Roberts glanced up with sympathy.

“I’m sorry I can't give you a more concrete answer, Mr. Winchester. Every omega hole is unique, just like every omega. It’s understandable that you would have some concerns given the sudden change in the –” she hesitated for a moment, choosing her wording “– size and elasticity of Dean’s omega hole, but this just might be how Dean’s hole was made. We know that he has very special needs; perhaps this is just his body’s way of changing to accommodate them. You should just be glad to know that Dean is healthy and uninjured, if a little stretched out.”

She smiled and looked down at Dean, leaning forward to settle her hand comfortingly on his naked thigh. Dean’s eyelashes fluttered as he looked up, a little startled, to meet his doctor’s gaze.

“In fact, he’s perfectly fine to go back to normal use. I would caution against anything too big until he sees the physical therapist, but filling him up and having him try to clench down on it will be beneficial for his recovery. Even if he still can’t tense his muscles, just trying to do so is good practice for his brain. I’m not concerned about prolapse; his muscles are relaxed and his hole and rim are very stretched, but the connective tissue is in perfect condition.”

“So… He doesn’t need to stay out of service?” John asked, and Dr. Roberts shook her head.

“Not at all.” She squeezed Dean’s leg and then rubbed his thigh before fondly tugging on the small erection that was flagging between his legs, making Dean yelp and blush even as he automatically spread his legs wider for her. “I think what Dean needs most right now is for everything to go back to normal.”

Chapter 30: Stuffed

“Dean?” Sam whispered across the dark room. The digital clock on the table between their beds said that it was 7:53PM, and it was pretty dark outside but there was a glow coming from Dean’s bed underneath his blanket. “Are you awake?”

Dean didn't say anything. Sam could hear his quiet breathing, though, just barely. Sam whispered Dean’s name again a little louder, but his brother didn’t even move.

Quietly, Sam crawled out of his bed and tiptoed across the floor to his big brother’s bed. He reached out and put his hand on Dean’s shoulder, shaking it a little bit.

“Dean? You sleeping?” 

Sam knew that Dean had taken sleeping pills – Dad had told him that Dean had to so that his hole could get better – but he wasn't sure how they worked. Dean usually didn't fall asleep until after Sam did.

Sam pulled up the corner of the blanket that had flopped over Dean’s head, under which the light was coming from. Beneath it, Dean was lying on his side with his face smooshed against the wrinkled sheet. His phone was on the bed in front of his nose with his hand, relaxed, beside it. The phone screen was unlocked, lighting up his sleeping face, and the fan of his eyelashes cast long, fluttering shadows across his freckled cheeks. His pink lips were delicately parted, and his breaths were fogging the glowing phone screen.

“You’re drooling,” Sam said quietly, reaching out to poke Dean’s soft cheek. Dean’s eye twitched a little bit and one of his fingers shifted a fraction, but otherwise he didn't react. 

Sam looked curiously down at Dean’s phone. It was open to the text messaging app; Dean had clearly fallen asleep in the middle of texting someone. Sam should be a good brother and plug his phone in, so it wouldn't run out of batteries.

After another glance at his brother’s unconscious face, Sam slipped Dean’s phone towards him and glanced over Dean’s text messages. He felt a hot glare of jealousy twist up his stomach when he saw that it was a conversation with Benny.

Dean

i hav to go gget treetmint tmoro n the docter gave me medisin to make me sleep

im reely tird 😴

Benny

bet you look real cute all sleepy

Dean

no m not cute my hare is al mesy n i look liike a racoon

Benny

😍 cute!! cute cute cute

i think sleepy boys are cute. especially sleepy boys with raccoon eyes

Dean

not me tho

Benny

especially you

Dean

🙈

im not tho reely

u r reely cutee sleepy tho i rembr frm the sleepovr

Benny

😳 no ones ever called me cute before…

Dean

no way that cant b tru benny ur r so cute n so niice probly mor cute annice then any boy i ever met

Benny

god cher youre making me blush 😊♥️

Dean

i bet u wil find a reely cute boy soon

Benny

dont need to find one though, im already texting the cutest boy in the world 😉

i wanna have another sleepover soon. loved falling asleep with you 🥰 maybe tomorrow if youre feeling up to it after your treatment?

or later this weekend

we still need to watch the rest of your movies

you asleep, cher?

wish I could be there holding you rn

text me when you wake up ♥️

There were a few words typed in the dialogue box that Dean hadn't finished writing, waiting to be sent. Sam scowled and turned Dean’s phone off. He pushed it away and then turned back to look at Dean’s unconscious face, which was now only visible by the moonlight.

Sam folded his arm on Dean’s mattress and rested one cheek on it, reaching out with his other arm to poke his brother’s cheek again.

“What’s so cool about Benny?” Sam asked quietly. Benny was alright, he guessed; he’d been nice to Sam at the dinner and like Dad kept saying, it was okay for Dean to have his own friend. But Sam couldn’t help but get a wriggly nervous feeling in his gut every time he saw Dean texting Benny, or listened to Dean talking about Benny. Dean seemed to think that Benny was the coolest, so strong and nice and smart; Sam was a little scared. If Benny was such an amazing alpha, then what if Dean would rather Benny be his Alpha one day instead of Sam? What if, when Sam inherited Dean, Dean wished that it was Benny buying him instead? 

Pouting, Sam continued to press his finger against Dean’s cheek and watched it dimple under his touch. Dean’s face was so soft; Sam poked it again, a little harder this time, and Dean’s eye twitched once more but he didn't look like he was about to wake up.

Entranced, Sam moved his finger along Dean’s pale, freckled cheeks to Dean’s plush, parted lips. He traced the sweet curve of them, watching them twitch – a little ticklish – before sliding three small fingers between them and into Dean’s slightly open mouth.

Dean’s jaw opened further as Sam pried apart his teeth, sliding his fingers in until he could stroke Dean’s tongue. The pink muscle followed his fingers a little, but Dean didn't suck on them like he normally did when he was awake. His mouth remained lax, just a wet hole for Sam to explore; and explore Sam did.

Feeling a little warm in his chest, Sam pushed his fingers in further, wiggling them around and tracing every line and bump of Dean’s teeth. He pressed his fingertips into the walls of Dean’s mouth and watched as Dean’s cheek bulged out in response; he trailed his fingers along Dean’s soft palate all the way back to fiddle with the little dangly thing at the entrance to Dean’s throat. Sam felt Dean gag in response and was delighted by the sound that it made; Dean almost never gagged anymore when Dad fucked his mouth. It made it feel a little special. It made Sam want Dean to keep making that noise.

It wasn't until Sam felt Dean’s throat convulsing around his fingers that he realized that he'd stuffed nearly his entire hand into his big brother’s mouth and had started trying to feed it down Dean’s throat. Dean’s jaw was stretched obscenely around the wide part of Sam’s hand, and his face was red, lips stretched thin. 

Sam pulled his hand back out slowly, feeling Dean’s teeth and tongue sliding along his skin as his fingers left the clutching embrace of the omega’s slick pink throat. Once Sam’s hand was fully extricated from Dean’s mouth, the sleeping boy let out several tiny, spluttering coughs and then sucked in a deep breath, thick saliva dripping from his lips onto the sheets beneath his face. A few tears escaped his closed eyes, disappearing into the sheets and pooling in the divot of his nose.

Sam felt a flicker of something hot between his legs at the sight of Dean’s flushed and teary face, but at the same time he felt guilty. He hadn't meant to make Dean cry. He hadn't hurt Dean, had he?

Sam leaned forward to press his lips against Dean’s in apology, moving them against Dean’s mouth the way that Dad did. The older boy’s mouth was open now from Sam’s exploration, and it was easy to slip his tongue inside. Dean didn't kiss Sam back, but that was alright; he was sleeping.

Dean let out a little sigh into Sam’s mouth, and then Sam thought suddenly to himself that maybe he hadn't hurt Dean at all. Because sometimes Dean seemed to cry for no reason, even though he was really enjoying himself, so maybe Sam didn't need to feel guilty. He moved down the bed and pulled back Dean’s blanket more to see that Dean’s penis was soft, but that didn't mean anything; to know for sure if Dean had liked it, Sam had to check to see if Dean was wet.

Heart thudding strangely in his chest, Sam turned on the bedside lamp so that he could see better. The light was much brighter in the room than he’d expected, and he froze for a second with his eyes on Dean’s face, holding his breath as he waited to see if it would wake Dean up. But the sleeping pills were strong, and Dean didn’t even stir.

Not wanting Dad to come upstairs and see light on in their room, Sam took Dean’s blanket and ran quietly across the room to stuff it under the crack in the door before returning to his brother’s side. Dean was still breathing softly, his mouth hanging slightly open, lips swollen and red. The tears on his face had dried, but he was still drooling onto his sheets. The lamplight cast a warm glow on his skin. Sam trailed his hand lovingly down the long stretch of Dean’s naked side, over his ribs and the slope of his waist and then the curve of his hip. Then, he grabbed Dean’s pillow from underneath the older boy’s head and wedged it a little under Dean’s hips behind his butt so that when he finally pushed Dean over onto his back, the pillow propped him up for easy access to his hole.

Dean had been lying curled up on his right side. Once Dean’s body had been rolled over, Sam carefully moved Dean’s left arm and leg to a more comfortable position before pushing Dean’s knees and then ankles apart to make room for himself between his big brother's thighs. Then, with a strange feeling of nervousness as he knelt in front of his brother’s unconscious body, Sam reached out to lift Dean’s flaccid penis and balls out of the way so that he could have a clear view of the omega’s cunt.

“Wow,” Sam whispered to himself as Dean’s penis flopped up onto his belly. Sam used both hands to open the messy, oversized entrance to the wrecked omega hole below it.

Dean’s rim was stretched so hugely, his hot pink insides so easily accessible; inner thighs slippery and slick drooling onto the pillow beneath his hips. Sam couldn’t help but lean forward and lick at the silky swell of Dean’s inner walls, feeling the give of relaxed muscles against his tongue and tasting slick. It was a flavor that was sort of musky and salty and a little bit metallic, with a little something extra that was just Dean. Sam still didn't really know why he thought it tasted so good, but he did. He thought it tasted amazing. 

Dad had shown Dean’s sloppy hole to Sam earlier, but Sam hadn't really been able to be so up-close. Dean had spent the majority of the afternoon and evening in their father’s lap, Dad’s cock nestled inside his ruined gape while Dad encouraged him to try his best to clench around the intrusion. Dean was supposed to get some sort of therapy tomorrow for his hole and Dad didn't want Sam to experiment with it too much until afterwards, even though he'd explained that the doctor had said that it was totally safe and okay to use it like normal.

When he pulled away from the wet heat, Sam’s entire lower face was dripping with the evidence that Dean was enjoying Sam’s exploration of his sleeping body. Sam licked all around his lips and then wiped his face off on the back of his arm, eyes still fixed on the gaping hole between Dean’s legs. Sam had never seen it look so big and loose. Dean must be feeling so empty.

With both hands, Sam again spread apart the gapingly loose cunt, pulling it open to get a better look inside. He could feel it stretch easily with not a single ounce of resistance, almost like Dean’s body wanted Sam to do it; wanted Sam to open it as much as he could. 

Sam continued to pull the lax hole open – sliding his hands inside to prevent the inner walls from collapsing inwards – and it just kept gaping wider and wider, opening deeper inside until Sam could've sworn he was looking all the way into where the fuckhole ended. Those slutty pink inner walls were glistening, strings of slick connecting them and pooling at the bottom, dripping down the sides like water down the walls of an ocean cave. Thanks to the depth training, Sam knew that Dean was at least a foot deep in his resting state, now; if Sam pushed his arm inside, it'd swallow him easily past his elbow. With the cunt so sloppy and stretched so loose, it would probably welcome both of his arms.

“Such a… a cute little cocksleeve,” Sam said quietly to the gaping cunt, practicing sounding like a grown-up alpha. “You’re so stretched out, you're like a… like a, um… You’re a good hole, so slutty, so good for me.”

The worn-out cunt didn't respond; it didn't even twitch. Dean let out a little noise, though, a tiny whine that rose from deep in his chest and made Sam feel sort of flustered and excited. 

“Do you like that, Dean?” he asked. “You’re getting really slick. You want me to help out your slutty hole?”

Eyes fixed on Dean’s face, Sam leaned forward and slipped both of his arms further into Dean’s body. It was so easy; there was no clenching or squeezing, no convulsions of the inner muscles trying to push him back out. Dean’s slutty body just gobbled him up until Sam’s bent elbows bumped against the rim. He slowly drew his arms all the way out and then leaned forward, thrusting them back in again in a long, slick plunge.

As Sam set up a steady pace, plunging his arms in and out of his sleeping brother’s helpless body, he watched the bulge of his closed fists glide up and down the stretch of Dean’s belly with wide eyes. Dean’s insides were a slick-slimy mess, squishy and hot, giving way easily with a gush of Dean’s slutty fluids and obscene, filthy noises each time Sam shoved his arms forward. It felt like Sam was churning Dean up inside, stirring up a gooey mixture of slutty innards that were there just for Sam to mix and mess up as much as he wanted. And Dean was liking it so much, he really was; he was blurting out slick around Sam’s elbows each time Sam bottomed out, and his balls had tightened and drawn up out of the way and his cock was pink and hard and leaking onto his bulging belly.

“Your hole’s so hungry,” Sam observed delightedly. He shoved his arms in as far as they could go so that he could bend his head down to try to kiss Dean’s belly; he had to kind of bend his arms and push out with his fists, stretching Dean’s belly up to meet his lips halfway. Dean let out a low groan at that. “It’s eating my arms all up, Dean. And it’s so slick! It likes it so much…” He glanced up at Dean’s flushed face, at his eyes which had started leaking tears again. Sam bit his lip and felt another flare of heat between his own legs. “You like it when I play with you. You always like it.”

That’s what Dean told him; he always liked it. Sam was just making Dean feel good, even if he was too asleep to know it.

Sam opened his hands and felt around inside for a little bit. He could actually kinda feel squishy lumps and stuff through the stretched-sloppy walls of Dean’s cunt and wondered if those were really Dean’s guts and intestines and stuff. Maybe if Dad ever wanted to fuck Dean’s ass, then he could put his big hand inside Dean’s cunt too and squeeze himself through the inner walls. Sam bet that would feel real good. When Sam’s penis got big enough, he’d totally try that.

Finally, Sam withdrew both of his arms and then his hands. Dean wasn’t really any more open than he’d been before – Sam wasn’t sure it’d be possible to open him further, he was already stretched so wide – but his rim was reddened and more swollen. His inner walls were even more plump and pouty; they bulged slightly out through the gaped entrance. Sam petted them a little bit, giggling at the way they squished wetly under his palm. Sam would never say it to Dean’s face because he knew it’d make Dean feel embarrassed, but Dean’s slutty body really was so silly and strange. There weren’t any other omega holes like his in the whole entire city, maybe in the whole entire world; none that could be filled so much or stretch so far. Sam didn’t think that was a bad thing, though! It made Dean’s hole so fun to play with!

Suddenly, Sam had an idea. He gave Dean’s poor, gushy cunt another pat and whispered, “Don’t worry, I’ll be right back” before darting across the room to his own bed to grab his big stuffed dog from underneath his blanket.

Sam brought his stuffed animal back over to Dean and to Dean’s waiting hole. Sam’s stuffed dog was a big golden retriever that he’d named Bones; Dad had gotten it for him for his birthday two years ago instead of the real dog that Sam had asked for. Sam had been upset at the time, and he still kinda was, but he loved Bones and he slept with him every night even though he was getting too old for that kinda thing.

“Dean, you still hungry for more cock? Bones can help.” 

Bones didn’t have a penis, but Sam could pretend. He made Bones rut against Dean’s gaping pink cunt and giggled at the picture it made; the stuffed dog was as big as Dean’s torso, but that was still pretty small compared to Dean, and it looked kinda silly. Especially since Dean was lying on his back with his hips propped up, instead of on his hands and knees like a proper bitch.

“See, Dean? It’s not scary. If Dad ever let a dog fuck you, I bet your slutty cunt would really love it.”

Dean made a little noise in response to that and his toes twitched. Sam froze, worried that Dean was really waking up this time, but then he realized that the fluff of Bones’s belly rubbing against Dean’s cock had made the omega even harder. Captivated by the sight of it, Sam continued to rub his stuffed animal against Dean’s erection until, after a couple minutes of concentrated friction, Dean let out a squeak and spurted his clear cum onto the dog’s soft fur.

“Good boy,” Sam whispered to Bones. “You made him spurt.” He patted the dog’s fluffy head.

Sam continued to rub Bones against Dean, spreading the omega’s slick cum across his belly and pushing his softening penis back and forth until Dean was whining in his sleep and squirming a little, his sensitive penis reddened and sore from the friction. Finally, Sam sat back on his heels between Dean’s widespread legs, holding Bones in his lap and staring at his big brother’s messy, overstretched pinkness.

Dean was breathing heavily, his face flushed red and his mouth still hanging slightly open. Drool was drying down the side of his face, tears drying clumped in his eyelashes. His hole was still so open, so gapingly empty, so squishy and hot. But Sam wasn’t really sure what else he could do with it.

Half-heartedly, Sam lifted up Bones’s right front leg and pressed the furry paw against Dean’s puffy, swollen gape. He wiggled it around and then pushed it forward a little bit, watching it disappear into the plump pink cunt.

Sam swallowed thickly at the lewd sight of Bones penetrating Dean and pressed further. In seconds, the stuffed dog’s entire leg had disappeared into the used hole without a sound. Bones’s friendly face was nestled right up between Dean’s legs, his fabric tongue hanging out and covering Dean’s softened penis.

“D'you… Do you like that, Dean?” Sam asked hesitantly. He pulled Bones’s leg out a little and then pushed it back in. “Do you like Bones putting his foot inside?”

But he already knew the answer. Dean always liked it.

Sam pulled his stuffed dog’s leg all the way out so that he could put the front paws together and push them both in at the same time so that Bones could fuck Dean just like Sam had. They went in so easy, the fur immediately wettened and slippery with slick. Sam couldn’t help himself; as if in a trance, he continued to push Bones further into the beaconing hole. He used his hands to stuff Bones’s nose into Dean's hole between the dog’s front legs and once it was wedged inside, Sam continued to force the stuffed dog’s head into the helplessly strained cunt.

Slowly, carefully, Bones disappeared into Dean’s unconscious body. First the stuffed animal’s front legs and head, then its plush body. Sam started having to kind of shove it in with his hands, holding onto Dean’s hip with one hand while the other forced the stuffed animal as deep into the ruined cunt as he could. It had to smush down tight in that narrower gap of Dean's pelvic bone before being able to expand again once it was deep inside the omega's trained tummy. The process was harder than Sam had thought it would be; there was enough room inside, but once the space was crammed tight enough it was thicker than both of Sam's arms had been together, and the stuffed dog’s fluffy fur didn’t slide easily along the slack inner walls the way Sam’s skin had. Sam wondered if Dean would feel the burn of the friction in the morning; if he would know that Sam had done something to him while he was sleeping even if he wouldn't be able to know what.

After several minutes of hard work, Sam sat back again on his heels and stared at the jam-packed hole. He’d gotten almost all of the stuffed dog into it; only the last few inches of one of Bones’s hind legs was sticking out, like a funny little tail for Dean.

A whimper suddenly permeated the white noise that Sam hadn’t even noticed had filled his head. Sam blinked and looked up from the tight-packed rim of Dean’s wrecked cunt; just above it, Dean’s belly was bulging obscenely, swollen huge and lumpy with the stuffed animal’s various limbs. Silent tears were dripping down Dean’s cheeks. His mouth was closed now, teeth gritted but lips parted, face flushed. Sam reached forward and began to force the final stuffed paw fully into the stretched pink hole, watching Dean's face all the while. Dean made a little grunt every time Sam shoved. He looked so pretty with his eyelashes all wet and his cheeks glowing red, his belly stuffed so very big.

Once every last bit of his stuffed dog had been wedged inside Dean’s helpless body, Sam lowered his hand between his own legs. It felt good. Seeing Dean’s pretty face all wet with tears made it feel even better.

“You look so… weird,” Sam said softly, almost to himself. Dean always said that when Sam stuffed him full until he bulged, that he looked ‘weird’. Sam thought that Dean looked beautiful like this, but for some reason the thought that Dean would think that he looked weird made Sam feel fluttery and excited. “You look so weird, Dean. Your belly is all big and funny-looking. It’s like you’re pregnant.”

Sam leaned forward and gingerly placed his palms on the huge mound of Dean’s belly. When he pressed his hands down, Dean squished the same way that Bones squished when Sam hugged him. Just like a stuffed animal; Dean was just like a toy.

Moving forward until he could lean down and rest his chest against the swell of Dean’s stuffed belly, Sam pulled down his pajama pants and underwear until he could press the front of his hips flush with Dean’s packed cunt. It was open so wide that Sam could feel Dean’s swollen rim against his lower abdomen and his upper thighs, and he pushed himself into the center where his stuffed animal was packed tight and wet with Dean’s slick. Then, letting his weight rest against his brother’s huge belly, Sam began to grind himself against the slick-wet fur protruding from Dean’s gaping core.

“What if… What if I made you keep Bones inside you?” he asked the quiet room. “So you can know what it’s like to be a mommy?” 

Sam knew that Dean was sad that he’d never be able to have babies; he’d cried for hours when Dad had given them both the talk years ago and told Dean that he didn’t have the right parts to be a mommy or a daddy. 

“You can be a real mommy, Dean, you can be pregnant with my doggy. You can keep Bones all safe inside you as long as I say. And then when I decide you’re ready, I’ll tell you when you can give birth.” 

He rested his chin on the swell of his brother’s stuffed belly and looked down at Dean’s pretty, teary face; Dean was frowning a little bit, a little furrow of strain between his brows, his sweet lips curved downwards in a pout. He continued to make cute little grunting noises every time Sam ground against him. But Sam knew that Dean was enjoying it; he could feel slick drooling sluggishly down the front of his thighs with every thrust of his hips against Dean’s packed cunt, and he could feel the twitch of Dean’s cock slowly struggling to harden again between both of their bellies.

Sam imagined leaving Bones crammed inside Dean’s body all night long. He imagined what Dean would feel like when he woke up in the morning to find that he was all stuffed full of the stuffed animal. Dean would be so embarrassed (he always got embarrassed for no reason). He’d look down at his bulging belly and graze his fingers across the misshapen lumps and he’d start to cry a little. And then he’d sniffle and look over at Sam all sad and pitiful-looking and he’d ask Sam why he did that, why he stuffed Dean so full while he was sleeping. And Sam would tell him the truth: that he’d just wanted to.

Sam felt a throb and his hips jerked and stuttered into the damp fur nestled between Dean’s thighs. It always made Sam feel guilty when Dean was embarrassed and got all sad about the way that Sam used him because Sam didn’t want to make Dean feel bad, he really didn’t. He wished that Dean could let go and just let himself feel good without getting all ashamed and upset about it. 

But Sam didn’t feel guilty now; he didn’t have to feel guilty because Dean didn’t even know, he wasn’t even awake to feel bad. Dean was asleep, so he could just let his slutty body enjoy it and Sam could just pretend that Dean was awake and ashamed and crying tears of embarrassment and discomfort. And when it was just pretending, it was okay that Sam didn’t feel guilty and that instead, the thought of Dean’s shame and distress made pleasure like Sam had never ever felt before flare hot in his gut and burst like fireworks behind his eyes.

Sam gasped as all of his muscles tensed, and he rutted a few more times against Dean’s packed hole and then slumped over Dean’s stuffed belly. He was breathing hard; he’d never felt anything like that before. Was that how Dean felt all the time? Sam couldn’t blame Dean for being such a slut if he got to feel like that when people used his hole.

Suddenly so tired that he could hardly keep his eyes open, Sam let himself relax against his big brother. He nuzzled his cheek into the lump of Dean’s belly that was probably where Bones’s head was and squeezed his arms around Dean’s waist, feeling Dean's stuffed body compress a little bit. Sam giggled to himself; Dean really was just a big stuffed toy.

“I love you, Dean,” Sam mumbled against Dean’s warm, stretched skin. Dean wasn’t grunting anymore, but a low whimper was working its way up from deep in his chest. Probably Dean wanted Sam to make him spurt again – Sam could feel Dean’s stiff cock poking into his stomach – but Sam was too tired. He really should get up off of his brother and pull Bones out of Dean’s stuffed hole, but he was feeling so sleepy and Dean was so soft and squishy beneath him. 

“I’ll help you give birth in a second, okay?” Sam said, lips moving against Dean’s stomach as he let his eyes slip closed. Just for a moment, just until he was ready to get back up and go back to his own bed. He was too comfortable, too warm and happy to do anything right now. He just needed to rest his eyes for a few minutes. But Sam would make sure that he’d take Bones out of Dean before morning, he really would; so that he could keep this a secret, something special just for Sam and Dean’s slutty body to enjoy without Dean’s brain ever finding out. 

That way, Sam would never have to feel guilty.

Chapter 31: Broken Hole (Part 2): Physical Therapy

Rhonda squirmed in her seat and bit her lip, hand twitching where it was tucked into her waistband as she tried to refrain from slipping it back into her panties to finger her swollen clit. God, just the thought of having that cute little omega bent over her desk with three of her fingers buried inside him, her phone in her other hand filming the way he clenched around her and the adorable faces he made…

“Dr. Hurley?”

The sudden sound of the receptionist’s voice made Rhonda jump. She pulled her hand quickly out of the waistband of her scrubs and turned off her cell phone, dropping it onto her desk.

“Yes, Sarah?”

“Your new patient is here. Dean Winchester? I just finished checking it in.”

–

Rhonda Hurley hadn't discovered the true pleasure of sexual arousal until she’d turned seventeen. Prior to that point, she’d never really even felt it before.

Rhonda had been raised in a conservative family. Her parents were puritanical Christians – both betas – and attended a small church that adhered firmly to sex segregation. In the right-hand pews sat the beta male congregants – closest to Jesus and to God – and to the left, the beta females. The alpha males, touched by the Devil as they were – cursed by inescapable sexual immorality – sat in the back. 

Omegas, of course, were not allowed in the church congregation. They were spawn of the Devil himself. Lustful, promiscuous sex demons… They had no place under the Lord’s roof. 

(Rhonda had spent the first seventeen years of her life believing that the power of prayer was the reason for the lack of omega children in the congregation. It was only after leaving the church herself that she’d realized that the several infant funerals that she'd attended over her childhood hadn't had coffins because the babies hadn't died at all; they’d simply been unwanted omegas, abandoned at the hospital.)

Rhonda’s revelation had occurred when her older cousin – an alpha and apostate that she hadn't been supposed to talk to, though she'd never been much of an adherent – had snuck her to the state fair for her seventeenth birthday. Rhonda had never been to a state fair before, and there she’d witnessed something amazing for the very first time: omegas.

There had been omegas on leashes and in carriers being used casually amidst the crowd. Omegas in the pens getting fucked by the pigs and horses. Omega-stuffing competitions, and even a milking contest for Alphas who had their omegas on hormones for lactation.

“Can I do that?” she’d asked breathlessly as she watched three young beta children giggling and stuffing a turkey leg into the dripping hole of an omega that was kneeling in the dirt. The most incredible feeling had been spreading, swollen and hot, in Rhonda’s groin. Her panties had been soaked with something that wasn't pee or sweat as her hands twisted up the hem of her blouse. “Can I touch one?”

“Sure,” her cousin had told her with a grin, slapping her back with a rough hand. “You just gotta ask its Alpha.”

Rhonda hadn't even known that girls could orgasm until she'd felt that slick omega hole sucking tightly on her fingers shoot a powerful zing of pleasure up her arm and right down to between her legs. Her other hand had slipped beneath her long skirts to press against the strange, swollen nub that was burning hot between her own slick folds, and with wide eyes and an open mouth, she’d shuddered in ecstasy. And from that moment on, her life had been irrevocably changed.

A longer story than Rhonda ever cared to tell, Rhonda had discovered – through much experimentation – that she wasn't attracted to women at all. Alpha and beta men were slightly more appealing, but they lacked whatever it was that omegas had that made Rhonda feel giddy and excited and left her panties dripping.

She’d left the church and gone to college against her parents wishes, and she’d dated many alphas in the meantime. The frat boys with in-house omegas had been her favorite to pursue, and they’d liked her a lot – especially how ‘naïvely’ willing she’d been to ‘experiment’ with omegas for their viewing pleasure – until they’d realized that the omegas made her wetter than their sorry, knotted cocks ever did.

Now, Rhonda was single, but she didn’t mind. One day she’d try to find a wealthy old Alpha with a floppy dick who would be happy to just watch her play with his omegas, but for now, Rhonda was more than content with her career. She’d found a profession that allowed her to play with omegas every single day… and pay her for the pleasure. 

Being an omega physical therapist was truly her calling.

–

“Alright, honey. I’m going to go through some routine questions before starting the treatment to establish a baseline, okay?”

It had taken Rhonda nearly five minutes to compose herself after finding her new patient in the waiting room. She’d nearly gasped when she’d seen his pale, nervous face looking up at her from next to his large, friendly-looking Alpha: those sweet freckled cheeks, big green doe-eyes and succulent pink lips couldn’t have belonged to anything other than her sweet Kitten. She’d led both him and his Alpha back to her physical therapy room and then asked them to wait for a few moments while she gathered some paperwork (or, more accurately, silently screamed and fist-pumped in her office and then quickly rewrote her drafted therapy plan).

“A baseline?” the boy’s Alpha – a man named John Winchester – asked. He was standing next to his seated son, gently rubbing the omega’s back.

Rhonda nodded. “I need to know what his hole’s baseline was in order to help me build out his treatment plan.”

“Ah,” John nodded. “That makes sense.”

“Dean?” Rhonda asked, testing out how the name felt on her tongue. It was cute – it suited him – but Rhonda still thought that he looked like a Kitten. So small, so cuddly, so pretty and eager to please… Innocent, skittish, obedient and – best of all – de-clawed. “I’d like you to lie down and spread your legs for me so I can take a good look at what you’ve got.”

Kitten shyly laid down on the padded omega therapy table and allowed Rhonda to guide his hands to his knees and spread his legs widely, serving his sloppy cunt up to her on a platter. The wide-open pink gash was swollen, glistening, and Rhonda couldn’t help herself from reaching forward and stroking it with her manicured hand.

“It's helpful for me to forego gloves so that I can better feel what's going on,” she explained to the boy’s watching Alpha. John chuckled.

“That's why I don't wear condoms, either.” He reached out and stroked his young omega’s hair out of his face. Kitten gazed up at his father with big eyes and spread his legs a little wider.

“Alright then,” Rhonda said, withdrawing her hand and turning to pick up her clipboard. “Let’s get started. How many alphas use your hole in an average day?”

Kitten’s fingers tightened on his knees and he shifted a little bit. Rhonda felt her clit throb as she watched his messy cunt twitch. It was a little twitch; just a tiny, weak spasm. As the omega remained silent, his father tweaked one of his rosy nipples. 

“C’mon, Deano. Use your words.”

“Mmph,” Kitten grunted adorably. “Um. It depends. On the day.”

“He gets a lot more use on Fridays,” John explained. “On Fridays he has free use all school day.”

Rhonda already knew that, of course, but watching the cute little omega squirm while his father confirmed it made her so wet. She jotted it down on her clipboard.

“Okay, then what about on the other days?”

Kitten twisted his mouth up and adjusted his hips. “Maybe, ten or eleven.”

“Including your Alpha? And other friends or family?”

The young boy ducked his head and looked down; when his eyes met the sight of his ruined cunt, they widened and he quickly glanced away.

“Then… I guess, um… thirteen or fourteen.”

“And on Fridays?”

Kitten seemed to shrink into himself, but it only made his hole spread open wider.

“Forty. Or, um, fifty sometimes.” His voice was very quiet.

Rhonda nodded and wrote it down. “What about betas? How many betas use you daily with your Alpha’s permission?”

“Not many,” John answered for Kitten. “And not every day. Maybe once or twice a week, a couple of betas ask and I might say yes if I think Dean needs it.”

Kitten inhaled a shuddery breath and looked down to the far corner of the room, avoiding his father’s gaze. Rhonda felt a thrill knowing that the little omega was hiding things from his Alpha, knowing that the Coach was honest about fucking the little sweetie in secret; no one knowing but him and the website patrons and the omega himself. Just last night, the Coach had posted a short video of his big, hard cock fucking into the bound omega’s hole spreader in-between class periods, not even filling the wide-open walls but simply jabbing at them mockingly and forcing out sloppy noises from deep inside while he’d fingered the boy’s ass. He was using the omega daily, and Kitten’s Alpha truly didn't even know it.

“Alright,” Rhonda said, belying her giddiness with a professional nod. “Less than three times a week, then? On average?” She stared pointedly at Kitten while she asked the question, and smelled his stress-scent thicken as he squirmed.

“Yeah,” Kitten agreed ashamedly, and Rhonda could have giggled.

“And on a scale of one to ten, how much cunt usage do you need per day to be satisfied?”

“Um. I, I, I don’t…” the boy stuttered in a trembly voice. Kitten’s father rubbed the back of his thigh and caressed his soft butt in reassurance, fingers skirting around the blown rim of his ruined hole.

“Okay, sweetie, let me rephrase that… How much can your cunt usually swallow up before it stops being hungry for more? One would be very little, ten would be the most use you typically get.”

The young omega blushed, and all that Rhonda wanted to do right then was to bury her hand inside his wet, warm body and fist him until he cried real pretty. But she refrained.

“How do I know when my cunt’s not hungry anymore?” Kitten asked softly.

“Well, does it ever stop getting all slick for it?” Rhonda asked. “Does it ever stop stretching for it? Does it ever stop gobbling up whatever anyone feeds it?”

A single tear escaped one of the boy’s big green eyes and spilled down his blushing cheek.

“No,” Kitten answered, “Not really.” He sniffled. “So. I guess, a ten?”

“Well, the rating doesn't go any higher,” Rhonda teased, relishing the little boy’s blush. “Now, please rate your typical daily slick production, on a scale of one to ten.”

As she spoke, Rhonda watched a big glut of slick drool from the young boy’s saggy cunt and pool on the vinyl bench beneath his hips. The omega squirmed.

“Eight,” he said, and his Alpha chuckled and gently pinched his cheek.

“Really, baby? You know how much slick you make. You’re always practically gushing.” He turned to Rhonda. “Better put him down as a ten for that, too.”

Rhonda laughed along with John, wishing that she could join him in pinching the little omega’s blush-red face.

“Ten it is. And finally, from one to five, how many fingers can your cunt usually take without prep? Even if it's a tight squeeze.”

“I guess it depends on if it's me or his little brother fingering him,” his Alpha offered.

“We usually try to base the score on the omega’s own finger size.” 

“Oh. Well, in that case…” John thought for a moment, eyes staring up at the ceiling contemplatively, before turning to his omega. “What do you think, kiddo? You don't usually finger yourself.”

Dean looked miserably down at where his soft penis was flopped up onto his belly above his messy hole.

“Four,” he said, nearly too soft to hear. But Rhonda read his plush pink lips. “But… It’s tight. Usually.”

“Perfect,” she said as she jotted down the answer. “That was all my questions! Now…” Rhonda tapped her pen against the clipboard, feigning contemplation. “The average daily usage for a middle-school-aged omega – not counting betas – is three to four alphas. And usually omegas Dean’s age will be rated at an average of four, four, and two for the other slutty markers, putting Dean well above average for all of them… Is his school aware of his special needs?”

John nodded. “That's why he was given extra free use periods, to accommodate his slutty body.”

“That's great. Dean is probably the sluttiest omega I’ve ever had the pleasure of treating, and I used to work in Chicago; I saw a lot of omegas.”

“The sluttiest?” Kitten asked, voice colored with dismay as his fingers dug into his knees.

“Shh, sweetheart, it's nothing to be ashamed of,” John quickly comforted, stroking around the young boy’s stretched rim and then gently fondling Kitten’s balls. He rolled the boy's testicles idly in his palm. Kitten mewled and pushed his hips into his father’s hand, wide-eyed trust in his eyes as he looked up at the alpha; John, however, looked up and away from his son and met Rhonda’s eyes instead. “We’ve always known he was incredibly slutty. We really try to celebrate it at home, but it still embarrasses him a little.”

“Aww, honey, there's nothing to be embarrassed about,” Rhonda soothed, bending down to stroke over Kitten’s anxious little gape with the palm of her hand as his father continued to play with him. “A needy slut is just what an omega should be.”

“Mmmh,” Kitten hummed uncertainly, grimacing a little, seemingly not sure about whether he should be pushing his loose cunt into his physical therapist's hand. Rhonda alleviated his anxiety by pushing her hand into his cunt, sinking her bare fist easily into the smooth, silky depths while he watched in shock.

“Now,” Rhonda said, looking up at John with a smile as she twisted her hand inside the man’s son. “Why don't we get to the good stuff? You're here to get this slutty hole back under control, right?”

–

Kitten was relocated to the spreader chair, which was a medical contraption onto which an omega could be strapped down and splayed wide. Tan leather cuffs were buckled around his arms, a line of four from his wrists to his biceps with one just above and below each elbow to keep him tightly affixed to the opposable armrests. A similar setup bound both of his legs from ankle to upper thigh. A much wider strap was buckled across his rib cage, and a more modest one closed across his forehead.

“Dad?” Kitten whimpered as Rhonda carefully finished binding him to the chair. “Dad, I don’t wanna do this anymore…”

“Shh. Don’t worry, baby, I’m right here,” the boy’s Alpha soothed him. John was standing next to him, caressing his exposed skin. The man slipped three of his fingers into his son’s mouth to let him suck on them. “Don’t you want to get better? Your cunt is so sloppy and loose right now, baby. Don’t you want to be able to clench again? To make alphas feel good?” He leaned over to kiss his son’s hair. “Dr. Hurley said it’s not gonna be scary at all. This is just a precaution to keep you safe.”

“Alpha’s right, sweetie,” Rhonda agreed. Kitten was trembling in his bonds, trying to shake his head out of the forehead strap but it was too tight to allow him much movement at all. “This is a very routine treatment for a condition like yours. It might hurt a little bit, but most omegas find that it just feels relaxing or even feels a little good. Here, give him this to chew on, it’ll protect his teeth…”

Rhonda handed John a silicone bit gag, which the man used to replace his fingers in his omega’s mouth. Kitten began to suck and chew on the gag immediately.

Rhonda finished tightening the leather straps and began to adjust the position of the chair; she effortlessly reclined it until Kitten was nearly lying flat on his back and adjusted the armrests to point straight out to the sides. Finally, she adjusted the legs of the chair until the boy’s legs were pointing up and spread into a wide V, the soles of his feet pointing at the upper edges of the room where the walls met the ceiling. 

Rhonda put her bare hands on the young boy’s plump buttcheeks and spread them widely. Her manicure was a pale pink this week, and the color looked so lovely next to the deep, swollen pink of Dean’s puffy inner walls. Rhonda could barely contain herself, her clit swelling and her own hole throbbing at the sight of those beautiful insides blooming between her hands.

“Nngh,” Dean whimpered, his tight little asshole clenching below the loose gape of his oversized cunt. God, what an incredible omega hole; Rhonda hadn’t seen one so widely gaping on an omega so young ever, not in her entire career. She doubted that any of the other omega physical therapists that she knew had, either.

“Hmm,” Rhonda mused as she watched the stretched cunt glisten beneath the harsh lights of the room. “Your inner walls look irritated, sweetie.” She trailed a bare finger along the pouting swell; it was reddened, the rash familiar as some sort of friction burn. Rhonda plunged two fingers into the lax depths, and the slick heat welcomed her and sent a bright zing of pleasure from her fingers up her arm and straight down to her clit.

The boy’s father snorted. “His little brother got a little overzealous with him last night,” he admitted wryly. “Luckily, Dr. Roberts gave him sleeping pills, so Dean was able to sleep through it.”

“That's good; omega holes need plenty of sleep to be their best,” Rhonda said as she went to prepare the o-TENS unit (a modified TENS unit with higher intensity specifically for omega hole application). The o-probe that she’d chosen was the largest size they had; it had a transparent silicone stem with the white cables visible inside it, leading to four large, spherical metal electrodes stacked on top of each other. All of the electrodes were three inches in diameter. When she slid the probe into her Kitten’s gaping hole, it slipped easily past the lax rim with a squishy, wet squelch.

As she fiddled with the dials, humming a tune, Rhonda teasingly thrust the probe slowly into the captive little boy. He breathed shakily, making little whimpery sounds as the electrodes grinded against his blown-out walls.

“It’s not gonna hurt you,” John reassured his omega again. “It’s perfectly safe.” Rhonda could hear, however, that the man was getting a little nervous himself as he watched Rhonda finish her preparations with the intimidating electro-stim device.

“Alright,” she finally said, turning her attention back to the anxious omega and meeting his eyes from between the V of his legs. “In a minute, I’m going to press this button and the machine is going to use electricity to stimulate your cunt muscles. It might hurt a little bit, but I want you to be a brave omega for me, okay? Because it really is going to help you get back to being the tight little squeeze you’re used to being. Okay?”

Kitten nodded and mumbled timid affirmation through his gag.

“Good boy.” She patted his thigh and looked up at his Alpha. “Now, I’m not going to sugar-coat this; it’s going to look a little scary. The sensations will be very intense for him. But this is a very routine treatment; I do it nearly every day, including on omegas younger than he is, with no long-term negative side-effects. I promise it’s perfectly safe, and the bondage is going to keep him from injuring himself.”

John swallowed and then nodded curtly. One of his hands was tangled in the boy’s hair and he tightened his fingers unconsciously, making Kitten squeak adorably. He held Kitten’s hand with the other.

“Great,” Rhonda smiled. “Okay, now, take a deep breath for me, sweetie. I’m going to press the button on the count of three. One, two…”

Rhonda pressed the button. The resulting electrical current was silent, the unit not making a noise, but immediately the young omega tensed. Rhonda kept her hand on the stem of the probe while Kitten’s abs rippled, his fingers and toes curling as his jaw tightened and his eyes crossed.

“Nnnngh!” Kitten moaned past his gag, his fingernails digging into his father’s palm. His cute little cock had immediately jolted to life and was no longer flopped cutely against his belly; instead, it was pointing straight up between his spread legs at the ceiling. Rhonda let the current continue for a few more seconds before releasing the button.

“Perfect,” she praised, playfully poking the young boy’s erection to see it spring back to its straight-upright position. “Not so bad, huh?”

Kitten panted, allowing his every muscle to go limp. His expression was dazed as he struggled to meet Rhonda’s eyes. His Alpha bent down to pepper kisses all over his face and then nip at his scent gland, making the omega whine.

"You did so good," John praised. "My brave little trooper."

“Alpha's right, you're doing wonderfully," Rhonda cooed. "But that was just to wake up your cunt a little bit, sweetie. Now it's time for the real physical therapy! Alpha, can we get your help with the next part?”

“Of course,” John said immediately, pressing one final kiss to Kitten's cheek and squeezing the omega’s limp hand before releasing it and walking over to stand next to Rhonda. He peered with her at his son’s open hole. “What do you need me to do?”

“I’m going to attach some electrodes to Dean’s abdomen,” Rhonda told him as she slickly pulled the large o-probe out of Kitten’s hole. She was pleased to see that the inner walls, which had previously been lax and motionless, were now quivering like jelly despite still being loose and saggy. “I’d like you to insert your fist into his omega hole, and each time I activate the o-TENS unit I want you to rate for me how tightly his cunt clenches down on you.”

“On a scale from one to ten?” John asked, a little jokingly.

Rhonda laughed. “Exactly!”

It was quick work to affix the external electrodes, which were wired to small sticky pads that adhered easily to the boy's skin. John tenderly slipped his large fist into his son’s trembling hole.

“I think this is really helping, sweetheart,” he murmured, twisting his fist around inside the slick pink channel. “You feel a little tighter than you did during breakfast. Dr. Hurley is going to have your slutty hole ready to pleasure alpha cock again in no time, baby.”

Kitten sighed and relaxed into the sensation of his father’s big hand churning his sloppy insides. But soon enough, Rhonda was ready with the o-TENS unit.

“Alright, what would you rate his tightness at right now?” she asked John.

“Zero,” John replied easily. He leaned over slightly to press a kiss to Kitten’s knee when the answer made the boy let out a small note of distress.

“Okay. Dean, you ready?” The little omega nodded. “One, two…”

Again, Kitten’s abs tensed and his every muscle tightened as the current went through him. “Mmnnnh!” His teeth clamped down on his gag and his fingers curled into claws as he strained against his leather cuffs.

“He’s clenching down a little!” John said, sounding hopeful. “A one or a two, maybe?”

“Great! I’m going to up the intensity, let me know when you feel a change…”

Rhonda kept her finger on the button while adjusting the dial. A quiet keening noise was beginning to rise up in Kitten’s chest, his eyes crossing again and then rolling back into his head. Drool bubbled and foamed up from behind his gag and trailing down the sides of his mouth. A moment later, cum shot from his hard cock in a tall arc, striping across his own face and leaving it dripping in the clear slick.

“He clenched down harder just then!” John sounded genuinely relieved and a little excited. “That was at least a four!”

“Give him a few good thrusts,” Rhonda urged, barely refraining from lowering her own hand from the dial of the machine to her damp crotch. She squeezed her legs together, certain that if the boy's Alpha were to glance down then he'd be able to see a wet spot; she was so turned on that she could barely sit straight. Every day, Rhonda was grateful for the special scent-blocking deodorants that she used to disguise her lust during sessions. “I’m going to turn it up a little bit more and then we’ll be done for the day.”

The alpha began to slowly tug his arm from the young omega's spasming hole, dragging a little bit of Kitten's slick pink insides along with his fist before plunging it back deep inside. Kitten’s stomach bulged and the little boy grunted. 

Rhonda slowly turned the dial up just a little higher. Kitten's back arched as much as it could in the bindings and all at once, his hole visibly clamped down hard around his father’s wrist as slick blurted out around it and the boy lost control of his bladder. Pee spurted messily from his softening cock, spilling all over his bound body and coating him and the chair he was strapped to.

As soon as Rhonda lifted her finger from the button, the young omega collapsed into a limp puddle of sweet, exhausted flesh. His chest heaved as he breathed deeply, coughing on saliva; hair and flushed face damp with sweat and his slick cum, chest and tummy wet with his own pee. The sound of it dripping from the chair and pooling onto the floor was audible.

“What would you rate him at now?” Rhonda asked.

“Just before you turned it off, he was at a five,” John told her. “But now he's back at a two.” Disappointment colored his tone as he twisted his hand, seemingly searching for tightness, before drawing it slowly out with a slick squelch.

“That's expected,” Rhonda told him. “It’s going to take a little while for Dean to regain his full strength. I can give you some at-home exercises for him, but I'd like him to come in twice a week for physical therapy for the foreseeable future. Especially considering his special needs. Even once he's recovered full muscle control it will be best to continue with a routine, preventative upkeep plan. You won't need to stay with him every time; you're welcome to drop him off and pick him up after we’re done.”

Rhonda took the silicone bit out from between Kitten’s teeth and began to undo the omega's bindings.

“I peed,” Kitten whimpered, mortified, to his father. Rhonda nearly came in her pants at the sound of his cute little voice sounding so ashamed. The boy’s Alpha was helping to clean him off with some wet wipes that Rhonda had given him.

“It's okay,” John assured him. “I won't tell anyone.”

–

After Kitten had been cleaned and released from the chair, Rhonda was able to convince his Alpha to go back to the waiting room by himself while Rhonda exchanged some final words with the omega.

“I just have a few more questions that he might be more comfortable answering one on one,” she told John. “There are things that omegas are sometimes too embarrassed to admit in front of their Alphas, as I'm sure you can understand. I'll let you know of anything very important.”

Once John had left, Rhonda sat in her chair in front of Kitten, who was seated – still naked, shivering, and flushed with embarrassment – back on the physical therapy table. His head was hanging.

“I don't understand,” the omega said tearfully as he stared down at his sweet, swollen gape. “It still looks the same.”

“Well, of course it does, sweetie,” Rhonda cooed, trying to sound sympathetic. She leaned forward and reached out, stroking her fingers along the stretched, supple rim. “I’m just a physical therapist; I can't work magic. I can help you to reactivate and strengthen your muscles, but I have no control over how stretched-out your little cunt is.” 

Dean sniffled and allowed Rhonda to take his knees in her hands. She spread his legs widely until his knees were bracketing the full width of the padded table with his shins hanging off the sides, nearly in a splits. Rhonda stroked her palms lustfully up and down the boy's strained, quivering thighs.

“But that’s actually what I wanted to ask you about in private,” she continued, making her voice sound kind and soothing. “Even with very, very slutty omegas, I don't usually see a hole get this stretched-out and loose. There’s only a couple reasons I know of for an omega body to get as ruined as this one is in so little time.” 

Rhonda lowered her voice even further and leaned in until she could feel the heat of Kitten’s body beating against her side, the boy's damp blond hair tickling her lips. She whispered into his ear.

“Have you been letting betas use you without your Alpha’s permission?”

Kitten went stalk-still, not even breathing, but Rhonda could smell his shock and fear; could feel the boy's pulse racing in his hungry little cunt when she stuffed her hand inside it a moment later. The slick pink sleeve was so squishy and warm, so wet and loose. It weakly sucked around Rhonda's wrist and she suppressed a moan.

“W-what?” Kitten finally asked, eyes fixed down on where his physical therapist's arm disappeared into his wrecked hole. "N-no, no, I... I haven't..."

“Omega holes are very durable,” Rhonda told him, savoring the sensation of the boy's heartbeat throbbing around her as she wiggled her fingers in the shame-filled little cunt. “They bounce back very easily. I've seen an omega take four fists at once and wake up the next morning nearly as good as new.”

She searched around inside the little boy, feeling all around him; the heat of his core and the hard curves of his pelvis. The squishy lumps and twists of his guts.

“Omega holes only deform like this – get all stretched-out and ugly – when they’re attached to slutty bodies that seek out beta use without their Alpha’s permission,” Rhonda lied sweetly. “Because omega holes are made for alpha pleasure. If they get used without pleasing any alphas in the process, then that makes them stretch out and get loose. Used-up.” She punctuated herself with a long, easy thrust.

“Oh,” Kitten exhaled miserably, and Rhonda carefully extricated her dripping hand from his clutching depths. The cute, pink little hole let her go with a slurp.

“But if you say you're not doing that, I believe you,” Rhonda told him with a kind smile. “You seem like such a good boy, after all. I bet you would never lie to your Alpha. Maybe it really is just what your doctor wrote in her referral letter: that your hole is just adapting to all of the use that your slutty body demands.” 

She patted the boy’s used-up cunt, his pouting inner walls splatting under her palm. Kitten stifled a moan, green eyes full of unshed tears as he looked down at where her hand connected with his ruined core.

“I can help you strengthen your muscles, but if your body is stretching to accommodate the needs of your greedy, slutty pussy, then... Well, there's nothing I can do about that.”

–

Originally, when Rhonda had first received the referral from Dr. Roberts, she had drafted her therapy plan as normal. There were exercises that would stimulate the muscles of an omega hole without further stretching and breaking down the collagen that kept the surrounding skin and channel walls tight and elastic; exercises to rebuild strength in an omega hole while enabling it to shrink back to a size that resembled what it'd been before. Those were routine, those were what nearly every Alpha wanted when he brought his omega into her office. And Rhonda was usually happy to provide them.

But those exercises were for other omegas. Normal omegas. Kitten was special. As soon as he and his Alpha left the clinic, Rhonda drafted a new therapy plan just for him. She could barely wait for the omega's next appointment.

Rhonda didn't want that sweet little boy to go back to normal. She wanted his hole to be permanently ruined. She wanted people to open Kitten’s legs and find an obscene, perpetual gape; the kind of loose, flabby cunt that you should only ever see on omegas once they were too old and worn-out to be used any longer. Rhonda wanted to see Kitten waddling around with a vulgar, oversized hole, the skin around it so stretched and lasciviously deformed that no one would ever want to use it normally again. A lewd, nasty little cunt that would contrast so beautifully with his pretty face, his big innocent eyes, and his sexy little body. He'd look so cute like that, dressed in a skirt or pink panties with the stretched rim of his hole peeking out around the satin. Rhonda wanted Kitten to have a bucket cunt that was ready to take any-sized fist, foot, or bollard; a hole where the only tightness came from the clench of its muscles.

With a hole like that, Kitten would never be able to relax during use. He would never be able to have anything even remotely resembling normal sex ever again. There would be no disappearing into his own mind, no losing himself in the sensations while his slutty body was used like a communal fleshlight. No, with a ruined hole like that he'd always have to be actively participating; actively engaged, clenching and squeezing to even hope to please the alphas that sought to use him.

After Rhonda's therapy plan, Kitten would never be able to forget for even a moment how sloppy and gapingly useless his sorry little cunt truly was.

–