Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Jax
Playtime
Shawn vibrates with anticipation, practically hovering. I haven’t let him come in three days. While I’d planned to take him out for a nice dinner and then take him home and drain him dry, I’m certain this development will more than compensate for the unanticipated change in plans.
Todd leads the way down the winding path to the smaller barn. He’s deliberately walking slower than normal because he’s a fucking sadist and an evil genius and knows Shawn will nearly turn himself inside out begging by the time we get there.
“Jax, I got a new frame,” Todd says without looking back, “since last time y’all were here.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah. Heavier. More restraint points. Better padding. New positions.”
Shawn whimpers.
“Can’t wait to see it.” I reach down and squeeze my cock through my jeans.
Hell, at this rate I’ll be shooting off too soon. Shawn hasn’t been the only one not coming their normal amount. At least I got a blow job from him yesterday morning.
We reach the smaller barn. Todd punches the code into the lock on the smaller side door that leads to his personal playroom.
When Todd flips on the lights, Shawn lets out a gasp as he steps inside.
It’s a thing of beauty, is what it is.
“Wow,” I say, walking over. “This is incredible.”
Todd smiles, slowly nodding. “That two-day mating heat Branson had two weeks ago?”
I nod. “Yeah?”
He points at the device. “Had him strapped to that for most of it. We had fun sitting there letting him suck us off with technology doing the heavy work. Unless we wanted to fuck him, of course.”
“Of course,” I say.
It’s a human breeding and milking frame, is what it is.
With a comfortable seat built in at the head, it places a recipient in the perfect position to get their cock sucked.
Or it can be easily swung out of the way in case the top wants to stand and actively fuck the bottom’s mouth.
And the bottom can be positioned face-down or face-up on the frame.
Shawn’s nearly desperate need makes me laugh. “You know what you have to do,” I tell him.
He drops to his knees in front of me, throws his arms around my legs, and eagerly nuzzles my bulge. “I’ll do anything, sir! Please may I play with Todd?”
Todd stands there, arms crossed over his massive chest, grinning like he just won the lotto.
“All or nothing, slut,” I say. “Unless I think he’s hurting you, he gets to play with you until he’s done, or until I’m bored and want to go home. And you know how he likes to rut you, and how much fun I have watching him do it.”
Shawn eagerly nods, mouthing me through my jeans.
My other rule is that, unless I’ve okayed it ahead of time, Shawn isn’t allowed to play or do anything sexual with anyone without me present.
Todd is the only person I allow to request to play with Shawn, or let play with Shawn without me.
That’s due to us being lifelong friends and my complete trust in the elk to take care of Shawn and keep him safe.
I grew up with Todd. If I weren’t an Alpha and he weren’t a very dominant beta, I likely would have married him.
He’s hung. As in, I’m above-average and he makes me look like a pencil-dick in comparison.
Whether it’s an elk thing or a Todd thing, the man can throw a fuck.
He lasts forever, can get it up several times in quick succession, and that’s not even counting his mating ruts.
He’s also a sadist who loves making guys beg. Despite being a beta, he’s very popular at initiations, usually has to peel omegas off him while waiting for Alphas to finish their turns with an initiate.
Yes, over the years I’ve let Todd have fun with me.
In private, with the understanding that he’s topping and not dominating me.
Okay, so the milking machine is awesome.
I crook a finger at Shawn and he jumps to his feet. I immediately snatch his hair and pull him in for a deep kiss. “Who owns you?”
“You, sir.”
“Why do I let you play with Todd?”
“Because you love the way I scream around your cock when he fucks me and you love how helpless and slutty I get for you.”
“That’s right, baby. So be careful what you wish for and remember you asked for this.”
“Yes, sir!”
I release him and motion that he can go to Todd.
Shawn rushes over, drops to his knees in front of the elk, and the fun starts in earnest. I mostly let Todd have carte blanche with Shawn when I know my omega is in an extremely horny phase and needs frequent fucking.
With my permission, of course.
My perpetually horny omega coyote doesn’t go into mating heats as often as some canines, but when he does I usually turn him over to a very short list of men led by Todd—none of them canine Alphas or betas—and sit back to enjoy the show after I’ve fucked my balls dry in my hubby’s mouth before I head to work.
And when I return hours later, he’s usually still riding them raw and begging for more.
We aren’t ready to have pups so I don’t want to risk fucking Shawn when he’s in a mating heat, not even wrapped.
But when Shawn hits a mating heat, he’s one of those omegas who literally cannot function as a responsible adult.
A couple of years ago, it coincided with a new omega joining the pack.
While the Alphas were all fucking the newcomer at the beginning of his initiation, I tossed Shawn into the middle of an eager pile of gammas and omegas, along with Alphas and betas of non-canine species, and he took on all comers for the rest of the night.
And the pack knows this about Shawn. Even if Shawn goes too much out of his mind to pay attention to what cock he’s backing up on, the canine Alphas and betas know and won’t dare cross that line.
The first time his mating heat hit when we were together, it was inconvenient as hell. We were in San Francisco, sightseeing after meetings with two packs in that region.
After a few phone calls, I was able to round up fifteen guys, some of them human and unaware of what was going on, to come to our hotel suite and fuck him senseless. I kept everyone well supplied in lube and pizza and sports drinks and got my cock sucked by Shawn every time I chubbed up.
We extended our stay by three days because once his heat broke, he spent the next thirty-six hours sleeping and needed another full day of rest and rehydration to fully regain his wits.
The second time Shawn hit a mating heat with me, I borrowed a fucking machine and goat milker from Todd, and it took nearly four days before Shawn’s mating heat finally broke.
That was when I set up the trusted group.
Now when Shawn’s in a mating heat, they rarely last more than thirty-six hours, and I’m secure in the knowledge that my friends will keep him safe while I go about the business of running the pack.
Most of the Alphas whose partners experience mating heats have made similar arrangements.
When mating heats hit an unmated omega in our pack, they have a pre-designated buddy to coordinate the response, as well as a no-go list, in case there’s a chance that person’s species might get the omega pregnant.
Then the phone tree starts and someone usually moves the omega over to Todd’s, where the fun really begins. That’s one reason our initiation system works so well, because omegas already have an idea of who to ask to help out.
So far, the system has worked with no oopsies.
There are a couple of omegas, like Wallace, where they’re the only one of their kind in the pack, and no one else is a similar enough species to worry about any issues.
He’s a giraffe shifter. Lucky for him he’s down to fuck anyone anywhere, because he seems to go through eight to ten mating heats a year, where the average male omega usually only has four or six, if that, depending on their species.
Shawn’s not in a mating heat right now, but it’s close to full moon and he rides me to exhaustion this time of the month, meaning I’m definitely not turning down Todd’s help wearing him out.
“Go strip,” Todd tells Shawn, and he jumps up to do it. Todd flashes me a grin and pulls his shirt off. “Alpha gonna make me spread for the privilege tonight?”
“I haven’t decided yet.” I start unbuttoning my shirt. “Depends on how well you make him scream around my cock.”
Todd’s grin widens. “Then I guess I’ll just have to put a cock strap on him to keep him hard longer, won’t I?”
Shawn, in the middle of trying to pull his jeans off, nearly falls over when he hears that. He’s almost past the point of coherent speech.
In some ways I envy my mate. He can drop-kick his brain out the door and totally stay in the moment with his body.
Before he joined our pack, there were nights I’d go over to one of the omega houses.
Even while I enjoyed their attentions I envied how they could totally shut out the rest of the world in lieu of what their bodies demanded.
It’s beautiful, you know? Some assholes look down on omega males because of that, even ones born to omega dads, but I never have.
My sire drilled into me from a young age that everyone has worth and is worthy of respect unless their actions and character dictate otherwise.
That omegas are born the way they are the same way we were born Alphas, and never let anyone degrade an omega simply because they’re being true to themselves.
Unless, obviously, that particular omega has a degradation kink and consents to that kind of treatment.
Pops taught me omegas are some of the strongest shifters out there, no matter what people think, especially male omegas.
Because, damn, they bring new life into the world.
They’re the nurturers of our packs, the ones who keep us grounded and humble, and just because they’re omegas doesn’t mean they can’t viciously fight to protect the ones they love.