Alpha Boss’ Baby Service (Babies For Broken Dads #5)

Chapter 1 The Cream-Filled Beginning

THE CREAM-FILLED BEGINNING

No matter what Titan did, the results always ended up grim.

Pages and pages of spreadsheets were laid out before him, the laptop screen burning into his sensitive eyes. For hours, he had painstakingly adjusted the numbers, making countless tweaks in an attempt to save his bakery.

The end result was always the same: Twin Buns wasn’t making enough money.

If he only wanted to feed one person—himself—then the bakery’s earnings would be enough. He could always tighten his belt.

But what his heart longed for, was a family.

An omega by his side, and pups howling at his feet.

Twin Buns wasn’t bringing in enough sales to support that dream. For the past several months, Titan had been trying to stay positive, but he was running out of funds.

He scrubbed his face, sagging back into the worn office chair.

A wizened face popped into the doorway. “Nothing yet?”

Hamilton was tall and thin, with white hair and sharp eyes.

He was an old friend. Shapeshifter. Butler Brother.

He used to be Titan’s butler back when Titan lived a different life, but Titan had made the decision not to continue Hamilton’s services when he started up the bakery.

These days, Hamilton dropped by whenever he wanted; he had the keys to both the bakery and Titan’s cabin.

Titan sighed. “I’ve tried increasing the advertising budget, the ingredient quality, the variety of products, the business hours... It’s not moving the needle by much. A 20% increase isn’t going to be enough to court an omega, much less keep him. To say nothing of pups.”

Hamilton’s eyes gleamed. “You know, it strikes me that you have not considered a few other things.”

“Like what?”

“Yourself.” The Butler Brother strode into the office, index finger raised imperiously. He began ticking off his points on his fingers. “You are young. You have good looks and muscles. You are virile.”

Titan grimaced. “Please don’t tell me you want to pimp me out.”

“Not quite, but close. Have you noticed? Social media and content makers are the next big thing. People make videos of all kinds of stuff—cats, nature, food. Videos go viral; there’s even a baker who posts them. The Doughman Daddy.”

“So... You want to pimp me out, but on social media.”

Hamilton clucked his tongue. “You’re not thinking broadly enough. Twin Buns isn’t easily accessible. You’re just outside of Cartfalls, so the majority of townsfolk aren’t driving out here to buy a bun or two. And you’ve made it clear that you’re not moving back to the city.”

“So—”

“What you want is to bring the product to the people. Make yourself accessible.” Hamilton snickered at the look on Titan’s face. “You can create an OnlyFangs account. Slut yourself up. Then you bring out your brownies and cookies, and let people know you’ll ship them nationwide. Or you could...”

“What?” Titan asked warily. None of this sounded remotely appealing.

“You could sell your own cream filling,” Hamilton said with a flourish. “You’re good-looking. Omegas everywhere will want a ride on your cock. You won’t do that, obviously, but you can sell them a load of your cum.”

Titan opened and closed his mouth, horrified. “But the legal repercussions—”

“Spell it out on the product page,” Hamilton said. “Make your buyers sign paperwork to say you won’t be responsible for any child support. All orders come with a set of test results from the doctor. Uriel can sell you spells to keep them fresh.”

“Who would buy cum from someone on the internet?”

Hamilton shrugged. “I’ve seen it happen. And you know how to cover your furry butt with legalese.”

Titan sighed. The worst thing was, it was a feasible plan. “I’ll start small,” he said. “We’ll see if anyone even watches the videos I make.”

“I’ll give you some very constructive criticism. If you can seduce me, you’re good to go.”

Titan wrinkled his nose. “I don’t want to seduce you.”

Hamilton rolled his eyes. “Do you want your future family, or not? Pretend I’m money. Seduce me, and you’ll seduce money to court an omega.”

“Ugh,” Titan said.

But it was a start.

It took some experimenting and a lot of research, but Titan’s bakery channel began to gain popularity.

He made several videos without a shirt on. Videos with intimate lighting worked best, and if there were particularly suggestive shots—glistening fluids and inserting his fingers into dough—the number of views shot up.

He set up a website to sell his baked goods. He tested his packaging and products to make sure they would arrive safely, with spells in place to keep the bread fresh.

The entire time, he thought about the empty space in his bed, and pulled longer hours.

Online sales picked up. Sometimes, people stopped by Twin Buns to say they had seen his videos on the internet.

Eventually, in his videos, he introduced the idea of his ‘cream filling’ being available for sale. Omegas were interested. On very rare occasions, alphas too.

Titan began to test his samples—the best methods of collecting his cum, the different ways of packaging and delivering it. He ran his sale process through some friends and old contacts, to make sure everything was watertight.

Then he made five loads available for sale, and posted a video about it.

They were sold out in twenty minutes.

When he checked, his buyers had signed the legal waivers too, and sent them back.

Titan rubbed out one load, washed his hands, and went back to baking. Throughout the day, he thought about his very own omega—an omega to cuddle and kiss, an omega to hold down and breed.

By the end of the next day, he had all five loads ready for lab testing. He waited anxiously for the lab to give him the all-clear. Then he picked up the vials in Cartfalls, checked their seals, and mailed them out.

His customers were happy with his cream filling. So Titan put up another five loads for sale.

This time, they were sold out in ten minutes.

By the time Hamilton checked in, two weeks later, Titan had sold twenty-five loads, and his cock was slightly chafed from all that tugging.

But it was a good feeling. He was making a good side income, enough to support his future family.

“When you named your side hustle Alpha Boss’ Baby Service, I just about spat out my coffee,” Hamilton said, snickering. “Then I was mad that I hadn’t thought of it first.”

Titan grinned. “It’s such a cheesy name. But it works.”

“You should raise your batch size,” Hamilton said. “Double it.”

“I can’t make that much cream in a few days! I have an actual business to run. And baking videos to make.”

“Strike while the oven is hot,” Hamilton said slyly.

Titan groaned. “Maybe. I still can’t believe that people are actually paying for my cum.”

“And you’ve just fulfilled your last batch. C’mon, put more up for sale.”

“Fine.” Titan hit the ‘7’ key and made the sale page live, and they watched as it sold out in ten minutes.

Hamilton whistled. “That’s some sweet cash.”

Titan sighed. “I should get started on it.”

Then his phone rang—his pack was in danger.

Titan walked out of that fight with an injured arm.

The muscles on his right bicep were severed; he didn’t realize how much he used that arm, until he couldn’t.

Everything took thrice as long now: washing, dressing, baking. It was possible to bake with one arm, of course. But baking several different products before the crack of dawn—Titan had to scale back, dropping some of his less popular buns because he simply didn’t have the time.

Cum collection was affected, too. Old Leftie wasn’t quite as good. That, combined with the constant pain, meant that Titan was having trouble fulfilling his orders. Not to mention all the packaging and cleanup.

“You should hire some help,” Hamilton said. “Then you’ll have three arms in the kitchen.”

Titan snorted. “I’m sure whoever you have in mind will appreciate being described as ‘two arms and nothing else’.”

“Hire an omega, and you won’t just have two more arms—”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Titan growled. “I’m not hiring an omega to seduce them.”

Hamilton grinned. “Just saying.”

He waved a frilly handkerchief and flounced off, leaving Titan to painstakingly roll out his dough.

Being a baker was hard work. Omegas could do it, but it would be easier for an alpha.

“I could just buy another stand mixer,” Titan said to himself, making a mental note to put some things in his online shopping cart.

Just in case.

He cut out the cookies and arranged them on baking sheets, before sliding them into the oven. Then he started the timer.

In the distance, car brakes screeched.

Titan’s pulse thumped. He dashed out of the bakery into the cool morning air, his eyes adjusting to the low light.

A car was coming down the highway nearby, going too fast.

In its path was a drunk person weaving onto the road.

“Fuck,” Titan hissed, breaking into a run.

The situation was terrible; too many things could go wrong. He sprinted toward the omega and the car, cursing louder when the omega kept walking—right into the car’s path. The car honked loudly. Brakes squealed.

At the last second, Titan leaped, throwing himself at the omega and pushing her out of the way. The momentum was enough to send them both flying.

Titan grabbed the omega’s arm so she wouldn’t hit the asphalt at full speed. But he was still falling himself, still losing his balance.

When he could no longer hold onto the omega, he released her and reached out to catch himself.

Crack!

Pain shot through his forearm. He rolled across the asphalt, breathing heavily as he grabbed the omega again, to yank her off the highway.

Agony screamed through his bones. When he looked down, he realized that his arm didn’t look right.

I broke my fucking arm.

He tried to use his other arm, except all the stitches pulled.

Wait. My left arm is broken. Not my right.

Titan had been counting on being left-hand-dominant while his bicep healed.

With both his arms out of service, how the hell was he going to bake?

Worse than that: how was he going to fulfill all his “cream filling” orders?

He refused to think about what would happen if his side business failed now. It was his chance at a family; he couldn’t let this stop him.

“I have to hire someone,” he decided.

If this meant that his new employee had to milk the cream out of him, then so be it.