Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1046695.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      F/M, M/M, F/F, Multi
  Fandom:
      Hetalia:_Axis_Powers
  Relationship:
      America_(Hetalia)/England_(Hetalia), America_(Hetalia)/Japan_(Hetalia),
      America_(Hetalia)/Lithuania_(Hetalia), England_(Hetalia)/France_
      (Hetalia), Canada_(Hetalia)/France_(Hetalia), Canada_(Hetalia)/Prussia_
      (Hetalia), Prussia_(Hetalia)/Russia_(Hetalia), Canada_(Hetalia)/Russia_
      (Hetalia), Lithuania_(Hetalia)/Russia_(Hetalia), Canada_(Hetalia)/Spain_
      (Hetalia), South_Italy_(Hetalia)/Spain_(Hetalia), America_(Hetalia)/
      Canada_(Hetalia), China_(Hetalia)/Russia_(Hetalia)
  Character:
      America_(Hetalia:_Axis_Powers), England_(Hetalia:_Axis_Powers), Canada_
      (Hetalia:_Axis_Powers), France_(Hetalia:_Axis_Powers), Prussia_(Hetalia:
      Axis_Powers), Spain_(Hetalia:_Axis_Powers), Japan_(Hetalia:_Axis_Powers),
      Russia_(Hetalia:_Axis_Powers)
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-11-16 Chapters: 2/? Words: 10054
****** Stockholm, Born and Raised ******
by sweetayako15
Summary
     "Life isn't easy. No one ever said it was, so why try to even imagine
     that it is? " Alfred Fredrick Jones lived by those words. But Life is
     fickle and tends to change direction from time to time. Now Alfred
     can change his life, but will Life change him in the process? Rated M
     for various reasons that are mentioned inside the Author's Note!
     Omegaverse! (Not really "romantic" fyi)
Notes
     No, this really has nothing to do with Sweden (he might show up but
     that's it). Yes, this will have the following to an extent: Usuk
     (main), Fruk, Prucan, Franada, Spamano, Rucan, Ruspru, Ameripan,
     Amerliet, Rusliet, and many more (like, almost every semi-popular to
     popular pairing you can think of sort of "many more"). No, it is
     nothing like "Of Social Importance". This story will be dark,
     touching on sex slavery, dirty fetishes, mental diseases and
     syndromes, and even forced body changes. Just think of this story
     like OSI's cousin with the slicked back hair, too many rings, owns a
     concrete company, and has a thing for Monte Carlos. Besides the
     previous warnings, I must also point out that Alfred (America) is
     will be OOC! He is a dark person, while he is still America (please
     don't mistake him for 2P) and will have a few things in common with
     his cannon self, for the most part: He is the villain/anti-hero of
     this story. Also, due to popular demand, this is an Omegaverse. BUT!
     Unlike OSI, the whole blood type thing doesn't work here, so there
     will NOT be any AB Blood types! ALSO, in this Omegaverse, only Betas
     can breed with Betas (and Omegas with Alphas) in order to reproduce!
     THIS IS IMPORTANT TO REMEMBER! So, with that being said, I give you
     "Stockholm, Born and Raised".
***** Chapter 1 *****
Life isn't easy. No one ever said it was, so why try to even imagine that it
is? There are bad days for those rich monetarily; there are bad days for those
that are financially poor. That has been true for the history of the world, and
those that have lived through it and will live through it all carry the same
curse called "Life".
Sure, some people have worse "bad days" than others, but who can truly measure?
Is it by how much money, how many friend ships, or how many relatives that you
have lost? Maybe. Some think that the worst day of anyone's life is the day
they die. For others, it's the day that people are born. But some disagree
entirely, and for those that do, they usually believe that the worst day of
their lives begin when they walk out into the world without the protection of
home, family, friends… The day that they decide who they are going to be for
the rest of their "curse".
But there are those who don't get to decide, and they, arguably, have the worst
"bad days" out of anyone. Their "bad days" start every morning and end only in
what dreamless slumber may befall them. Their "bad days" are ones of tiresome
work and labor that cause them to cry out upon deaf ears and wicked smiles.
Because they have only nightmares to live upon and the only sweet dream that
they can afford to have is the dream of death, their "bad days" are every day
of their lives.
Life isn't easy. We've all established that. We've also established that Life
is cruel and has a wicked humor. But what about those that Life might actually
favor, no matter how small the chance might be? Do they even have "bad days"?
Of course they do. Their "bad days" start with a hot meal that was just a tab
bit too hot and ended up burning their tongue. Their "bad days" consist of
having to go meet with the neighboring power family and having to deal with
their all too desperate daughter who flirts much too obviously and laughs too
loud. Because they wake up every morning and must deal with the hardships of
their lives and those around them, their "bad days" are every day of their
lives.
Now, usually the two extremes (those that Life likes to beat up every second of
the day and those that Life likes to send flower baskets to everyday) don't
meet. They aren't supposed to. Life doesn't like them to meet because it shows
Life's favorites just how loved they are and then Life isn't able to pamper
them as often, lest Life's favorites give their blessings to those that Life
hates. So Life keeps these people apart from each other as much as possible.
But, every once in a while, Life finds a special favorite.
These favorites tend to have everything that everyone would want: Looks, money,
personality, ect. But, they aren't who they lead everyone to believe they are.
They are murderers, thieves, con-artists, and even, on rare occasions, the ones
that help Life pick out those that are meant to be miserable. They black mail,
kidnap, and torture. They love to make others feel wretched, and Life loves
them for it. So, with that being said, let's take a trip into a world so
similar to ours, where life has beaten many into submission, and has let its
spitting laughter rain upon humans like the blood that they shed in countless
wars. This world is a world without morals and shame; where science and torture
rule as means for everything and anything and money is king. Let take a trip to
this place and let us meet a powerful, greedy, and lustful young Alpha by the
name of Alfred Frederick Jones.
Alfred wasn't always one of Life's favorites. Sure, he was tall, had wheat
blonde hair, and had striking blue eyes, but he was born into a poor family in
New York, New York, America. He was born on an unnoted day in the middle of
summer with a very sickly Omega twin. It wasn't long after Alfred's and his
brother, Matthew's, fifth birthday that their mother died of malnutrition and
then around their sixth birthday their father abandoned them in the streets.
The brothers lived off of begging, what few, hard jobs they could find, and ran
from cops for four long years until they started to lose their sights, their
boyish charms, and just couldn't run any longer. They finally decided to hide
out in an alley way near a Chinese restaurant whose chef would give them
leftovers whenever his shift was over for about a year. The chef would also
give them old school books from his younger siblings that the boys would teach
themselves how to read and write, do basic math, and even some American
history. But it wasn't long before the restaurant was shut down for selling
illegal imports and the chef was deported from the country. It was in those
streets, on a hot summer's day around his eleventh birthday that Alfred met
some of Life's favorite types of people.
The Alphas and Beta that found the starving Alfred and his sickly brother were
very good looking, but Alfred knew they weren't in the back alley ways on the
wrong side of town for a party. No, they looked at Alfred and Matthew like
hawks would eye a hurt rabbit: Hungrily and full of greed. The first Alpha
looked like he could have been a farmer from his bronze skin, but how smooth
that exterior pointed to the fact that the man had probably only work his own
little garden behind his house. His eyes were green like the mint leaves that
Alfred vaguely remembered his mother loving to boil with water to drink on cold
nights. The man smiled at him, but kept his eyes sharp as if looking for a weak
point in the small boy's mental barrier.
The second man was a Beta, but was probably the most handsome. He had gold hair
like Alfred's and Matthew's father, but it looked so soft and shiny as it
poured down around the man's head and face, like a frame on the portraits in
the museum that Alfred's father abandoned him and Matthew at. The man's eyes
were a soft and compassionate blue, but as one looked deeper, they would find
that those eyes were the opposite: calculating and unfeeling. He didn't even
attempt to hide his interest in the boys, as his eyes looked over them greedily
while showing his pearly white teeth with a vicious smile.
The third and last man was an Alpha and the strangest out of the three. Between
his white hair and red eyes, Alfred didn't know where he should have looked,
but he learnt quickly that he just should've left his eyes on the other two.
The man had a wicked smile, and the more he looked at the boys, the wider and
more predatorial it became. His gaze soon focused in on Matthew, who was
sleeping while propped up against his brother. The albino man snickered a bit
when the sickly boy coughed in his sleep, finding a sort of amusement out of
the boy's situation.
Alfred frowned at the men as their faces became blurred, squinting his eyes
slightly to bring them back into focus. When the young Alpha's eyes refused to
cooperate with him, he cursed under his breath and rubbed them to try and sooth
them.
"You seem to be having a problem with seeing there, petite garcon," the man in
the middle said through a smooth accent that Alfred placed as French.
Then, the albino spoke in a rough, angry sounding accent, "Maybe we just
blinded him with our-"
"If you dare include the word 'awesome' in any way in that sentence, I'll
strangle you," The Frenchman cut him off.
Alfred listened to the men, not daring to say a word. Maybe they were they to
take him and his brother to an orphanage? Oh, he would do anything for that not
to be the case! The first and last Orphanage they went to tried to separate
them, saying something about there being two families; one that wanted an Alpha
son and another an Omega son. They ran away from there the night before they
were supposed to meet their arranged adoption families, knowing that there was
no way in hell they were ever going to be apart from each other. Or at least,
that's what Alfred wanted to believe. Maybe it would have been better for them
if they had just let those people take them apart. They probably won't be
living on the streets, and Matthew probably would have been a normal, healthy
boy if they had just let themselves be torn apart. But they didn't. And now
Alfred vowed that he would go through hell and back, just as long as they could
stay together.
And on that fateful day, Alfred would need to hold strong to that vow for all
that he was worth. Because it was only a matter of minutes till everything went
black as the Alpha that still had yet to speak approached him with a clean,
white handkerchief. The smell was sickening sweet, but Alfred was too weak to
fight the man's hand away. He was about to go through hell, and if he wanted
him and his brother to stay together, he would have to find his way back
through it all. Alfred felt his weak eyes closing against his will, but he just
couldn't fight it off any longer.
The last thing Alfred heard before blacking out was: "Don't worry, we'll take
good care of you."
Waking in a large soft bed was the first thing that was off to Alfred. The boy
bolted up right away and looked around the room, finding it to have off-white
walls with three matching doors, large windows with white curtains and a floor
with plush beige carpet. There was a dresser, desk, chair, couch with white
cushions, and mantel over the fire place all made of white-painted wood of some
sort, elegantly placed throughout the room. The room was bright as the morning
sun shined through the windows and bounced off of the large standing mirror in
the corner and lit up the rest of the room that the light could not reach
normally. The young boy looked all around the room, and had it not been for the
fact that he did not know where he was, how he got there, or where his twin
that was metaphorically attached to his hip was, Alfred would have been amazed.
However, the fact of the matter still stood and Alfred resorted to calling out
for his brother or anyone that might hear him.
"Matthew?" Alfred called out hoarsely.
Silence.
"Mattie?" Alfred tried again.
Silence.
"Anybody? Is there anybody there?!" Alfred felt his heart start to race
frantically.
Silence met his ears once again.
At this point, Alfred felt the need to investigate the strange area that he
woke up in and started to get out of the bed. It was then that Alfred noticed
the white sleeping gown he was wearing and the amazing lack of dirt on his skin
and grime in his hair, but he did not think on the subject for too long. He
also noticed that there were a pair of glasses on the night stand next to the
bed with a note that had only two words written on it: "For Alfred". He put the
glasses on, causing him to be able to see clearly for the first time in years,
and looked down at the floor to guide his feet down onto it. However, just as
his feet touched the ground, gravity reminded the boy of his fragile state and
sent him tumbling down onto the carpeted floor below. As he looked up for
something to stabilize himself and help raise his body, a click resonated
through the room, successfully drawing the blonde boy's attention to a figure
standing in the far left door way.
Growing up in the slums of New York, Alfred had always been more concerned with
taking care of his brother and finding their next meal rather than taking his
time to stop and smell the flowers. He was more worried with finding a job or a
nice lady to beg from rather than how his hair looked or how he smelt. Survival
was more important than beauty. But in that moment, Alfred swore he saw the
most beautiful person in his short, pathetic life.
The young man had to be only a few years older than Alfred, but his eyes were
dim with wisdom and looked tired from carrying the burden of painful memories.
However, all Alfred could think of was how those eyes were as green as the
grass at the large park his parents took him and Matthew to for one of their
birthdays, and his hair as yellow as the sun was in that pleasant, distant
memory. He was frail looking like Alfred, but he had a much smaller build of an
Omega, thus making it less noticeable; unlike his eyebrows that were very thick
looking even with his shaggy bangs covering most of them. The green-eyed boy
wore a dark green and gold tunic with long sleeves that had a white sash tided
around the mid-section, making it look more like dress than anything else. He
wore gold bangle bracelets on his left ankle and both wrists and a tight
chocker like necklace that was made from gold chains that wrapped around his
throat and cascaded down to his chest, each dip accented with a green gem that
matched his eyes. The Omega looked over at Alfred and instantly panicked,
rushing over to the boy on the ground with his bangles clacking together as he
moved.
Alfred looked up at the other boy, forgetting about his predicament for the
moment. Alfred couldn't place what exactly made this boy beautifulto him, but
by the way he walked and gently grabbed his arm, Alfred knew he was in the
presence of something he had never met before, and it amazed him. "Who are
you?" The awe-struck boy couldn't help but ask.
However, the boy said nothing in return. He simply helped Alfred up and back
into the bed, tucking him in gently before running off to the door facing the
bed, revealing that it held a large bathroom of sorts. Alfred watched as the
boy grabbed a glass off of the counter and filled it with water out of the
pitcher next to the sink, returning with the glass soon after. Alfred was about
to reach for it, but the boy signaled for him not to move and instead sat on
the bed next to the younger boy, barely making a dent into the blankets beneath
him. He smiled at Alfred before propping up the boys head with one hand and
bringing the glass to his lips with the other, helping the younger drink the
cool water that slightly burned while going down his throat. Once the water was
all gone, the green-eyed boy laid Alfred's head back down and threw away the
glass, then he left just as quickly and quietly as he came.
Alfred laid there on the bed in confusion. None of his questions had been
answered, and now he had even more than before: Where was he? Where was
Matthew? Why was he there? Who was that boy? Why couldn't the boy speak? Was he
mute? Why wouldn't anyone answer his questions? Alfred contemplated his
thoughts for a while, trying to calm them and his stomach that growled in
protest of only being filled with water instead of actual sustenance. He took
off the glasses and rubbed his eyes, trying to help his eyes adjust to his new
ability of clear sight, but a knock at the door quickly alerted him to another
presence.
This time, the door was opened by two Beta women dressed in short black, frilly
dresses and aprons with a cart, an Omega boy dressed in a white sleeveless
button up shirt and black shorts that stopped a bit to close to his crotch with
a matching bustle attached to the back of the shorts, and finally, the Beta
Frenchman from the alley way. Alfred felt the muscles in his chest constrict as
he made eye contact with the man, knowing that he was responsible for bringing
him to the mysterious place and would also more than likely knew the
whereabouts of Matthew.
"Ah, so my little favourite was telling the truth! You truly are awake at
last!" The Frenchman cheered as the two women grabbed the couch and moved it by
the bed where the man sat down. "Now, would you like something to eat?" The man
gestured to one of the women who opened the side of the steal box on the cart
and produced a plate of vegetables, meat, a roll, and some butter.
Before Alfred could respond, a small lap table was produced by the other woman
who was not holding the plate of food. She quickly laid out a napkin, fork and
knife for the boy and even offered to cut his food for him if he felt too weak
to do it himself. Alfred merely shook his head and tried his best to graciously
accept the food offered to him, but found it difficult with the loud rumbling
of his stomach. He ate as slowly as his demanding body would allow him; which
was not very slow.
Alfred became so engulfed with engulfing his food that he did not notice the
boy walk over to the Frenchman and sit on his lap. The boy had brown hair that
went down to his shoulders and glazed over blue eyes, making look as if he was
under some sort of spell. He wore white tights and black shoes with a single
gold buckle on each shoe. He wore a gold with black lace choker necklace that
had a single blue gem at the middle of his throat. The man started to pet the
boy's hair and then shifted to rubbing his arm, then hip all while whispering
things into the boy's ear. When Alfred finally noticed this, he felt his face
heat up a bit. The boy had to be thirteen or so, but the way his body shook
against the older man, Alfred could have sworn the boy was a very well trained
consort; his hands running through the man's blonde hair while his teeth nipped
at the man's neck and ear. When the Frenchman noticed Alfred's blushing face
and empty plate, he merely smiled and did nothing to stop the boy in his lap
from his ministrations.
"How was the food, Alfred?" The man asked coolly.
"H-how do you know my name?" Alfred felt his heart beginning to race again, and
it was not solely from the sight of the man starting to fondle the boy's
backside.
"Why, your sweet little brother Matthew told me," The man replied playfully as
the boy in his lap started to keen and whimper.
"Matthew?" Alfred's face paled, ashamed that he had not asked about his younger
twin sooner. "Where is he?!" Alfred demanded as he tried to get out of the bed,
the two women quickly moving the plate and table out of his way. "Where is my
brother?!"
The boy in the Frenchman's lap visibly flinched at Alfred's raised voice,
halting his hands on the man's chest. The blonde man looked down at the boy
with a glare and the boy started his journey with his fingers once more, if not
more hesitant than before. The Frenchman leaned into the boy and whispered
something into his ear, making the boy shiver as elder pulled away from him.
The man's face quickly shifted to a playful smile as he turned his attention
back towards Alfred.
"Don't worry. Matthew is safe and healthy. He woke up a couple days ago and has
been feed and given medicine to help him recover from whatever sickness he
might have," The man waved off the sentence freely with the hand that was not
on the boy's under thigh, squeezing and rubbing the flesh there.
"'A couple days ago'?" Alfred mimicked. How long had he been out? And still the
answer of where his brother was had not been answered.
"Yes, a couple days ago," The man responded. "You, little Alpha, have been
asleep for about four days. I was starting to think that you might never
awaken!" The man let out a fit of laughter at his own sick joke, pulling the
boy in his lap closer to his chest.
Alfred only grimaced at the man's words. "And… where is my brother?" Alfred
asked once more, his voice much softer than earlier as to not scare the other
boy again. Alfred truly felt pity for the boy. He looked so uncomfortable, like
he didn't want to be on the man's lap, or in the room, or in the house in
general. Alfred couldn't see the boy's eyes, but the way his body flinched
slightly and shook every time the Frenchman moved his hand to another part of
the boy's body told Alfred everything he needed to know.
"Your brother is with one of my friends currently," The man began as his hand
slipped down past the waist line of the young Omega's shorts. "That Omega is
being trained," The man finished.
Alfred looked away as the brunette boy let out a whimper. He looked down at the
blanket in his lap before he continued in a strained whisper, "What kind of
training?" Alfred had an idea of the answer he was about to receive, and the
moans and keens of the other boy as he was getting fondled didn't help Alfred
in chasing away the thoughts. It was common knowledge to everyone (even those
that could not afford such services) that pleasure servants, or more commonly
known as "sex slaves", were a common asset that most financially well to do
people owned. After all, there was no law against it in their world. In fact,
the idea of owning pleasure slaves was more or less endorsed by the government
as it was a way for those not acting as functioning members of society to have
a use and would no longer rely on the government for help.
Alphas, Betas, Omegas… all types of people could be made into sex slaves.
Alphas were usually bought for young Omegas who just needed a test runner for
their first Heats when actual conception was nearly impossible or by other
Alphas and Betas with a need to assert absolute dominance. Betas were more or
less a universal sex slave as they were naturally submissive to Alphas and
other Betas but dominant enough to please Omegas when needed. And finally,
Omegas. Every Alpha who owned slaves owned at least one Omega as the two types
tended to attract one another and they were quiet common with Betas as well.
Omega pleasure servants were used more so for breeding purposes and for the
caring of young ones than anything else.
As long as the slave is "taken care of", it was perfectly, if not expectedly,
normal for any person to walk around with one or two young boys and/or girls
attached to their hip. Of course no one actually monitored if slaves were taken
care of, since no one really cared. The guide lines were essentially along the
lines of: Three meals a day (size not determined), accessible clothing (though
most never used clothing by command of their master/mistress), and a place to
sleep (bed, floor, cage; it didn't matter). And just the thought of Matthew
being in anyone of those situations made Alfred want to throw up all the food
he had just ate and run to him. But, he didn't know where his brother was, only
the man across from him, fondling a young boy, did.
"I'm sure you know the answer to that question, Alfred," The man stated
teasingly as he inserted a finger into his slave's pre-stretched entrance,
moving it in and out slowly.
Alfred felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up as he felt his heart rate
increase. The mere thought of his brother being in the position that the Omega
sitting on the Frenchman's lap made him feel enraged. The gasps and whimpers
the boy was making caused Alfred's face to heat up in anger and embarrassment;
he could hear the forcefulness behind each noise as the boy pushed himself to
make them. Alfred began to envision his brother being forced to make such
noises to appease a hungry Alpha or Beta, and how he would be used for more
than just a lap warmer. No, he couldn't let that happen, he couldn't let
Matthew-
"So I want to make a deal with you,"
The voice cut through Alfred's thoughts, the young Alpha raising his head
instantaneously. "What kind of deal?"
The Frenchman smirked at the boy's eagerness. He had played his cards
correctly, and now, he was going to get what he wanted. He pulled his hand away
from his pleasure servant's back side and wiped his hand on the young Omega's
shirt as if it were a rag.
He could always get his toy a new one.
The Beta then shoed the panting Omega away, his Beta servants coming to lift
him and all three removed themselves from the room quickly and quietly. But
none of their movements mattered. Hell, one of them would scream bloody murder
and it probably wouldn't distract the French Beta and young Alpha from their
glaring match. No, the servants didn't matter and they knew it, thus why they
left so quickly.
"Well, Alfred," The Beta began once the room was cleared of anyone else and
only the walls with their deaf ears could witness the offer that was about to
be given to the young, homeless Alpha. "I am offering you a chance to get your
brother back,"
The shine in the Alpha's eyes almost made the Frenchman chuckle. 'So quick to
jump the gun,' Was all the Beta could think as a smirk began to form on his
lips. He leaned forward a bit, his elbows resting on his knees. It was all too
easy, and yet the Beta knew he had to keep his cards close and play them
accordingly, or else he might lose the prize right in front of him.
"What do I need to do?" The words made the Beta's smile grow even wider as the
Alpha seemed to fall exactly into place.
"I'll be frank with you Alfred," The Frenchman stood and walked over to one of
the many windows, gazing out past the green lawns and perfect hedges to what
would soon be the answer to all of his worries. "My name is Francis Bonnefoy, I
am from France, and I am a Beta, but you already knew that. However, I have a
strange… attraction to Omegas,"
Alfred tensed at those words, feeling as if the man was, in some way,
threatening his Omega brother. But he stayed still, out of both weakness and
the need to know more before reacting. "And what is your point?"
"Well, due to a recent discovery, I have been informed that I have, at the
most, ten years to live. And really only being attracted to Omegas, I cannot
seem to produce an heir for this empire that I have built," He glanced over at
the Alpha before continuing with a smile as he walked closer to the boy. "I am
offering you this, Alfred: I will raise, teach, and support you like you are my
own. And in exchange, once I pass over everything to you, you will have the
money, power, and influence needed to get your brother back. Granted, he will
probably not be the same Matthew you remember, but you can get him back."
Alfred glared up at the man. How dare he take away Matthew and put him through
sex training and then hold him over his head! How dare he take his brother away
in the first place! How dare he-
"Fine. But I promise you that I won't be an easy 'heir' to have," Alfred stuck
out his hand, his glaring blue eyes never leaving the electric blues of the
other.
Francis smiled, showing his shining canines, as he grabbed the young Alpha's
hand in a tight, painful squeeze, "I was hoping you would say that."
***** Chapter 2 *****
Life hates everyone. It doesn't matter if it acts like it likes someone; they
will get screwed over at some point by Life. A person can be on top of the
world, and with one little twitch of the finger, Life can flick them to bottom
of the bottom. And all for what?
Laughs. Life loves to humor itself.
Assuming that Life was just on one of its little laughing sprees, Alfred Jones
offered what little compassion he could to the French Beta sitting across the
room from him. It had been about five years since Alfred was "adopted" by the
man, five years since the Alpha had seen his brother, and five years since his
life went from Life's kicking can to Life's most precious pet.
He was handsome and strong, (nearly) every wish of his was granted, and he was
protected by money and influence. But, like a prized pet, he was caged, bound,
and his freedom was ripped from him. He howled and cried out for the first few
years, fighting back in a much too forward fashion, lashing out at everything
his "father" told him and demanded for him to do. But the whip is a quick
teacher, and embarrassment an even better one.
"What are your thoughts Alfred?"
The voice was sickly sweet; an indicator that the man thought Alfred was not
paying attention to his presentation and hoped to make a mockery of him once
again with other major business partners present. Alfred looked up and the two
sets of icy blue irises commenced in a silent battle of dominance, one that
Alfred knew all too well. Alfred accepted the challenge by clearing his throat
before beginning.
"I believe that if we move some of our stocks to the Chinese Silk Industry, as
you suggested, we not only would be losing money in Italian 'imports', but also
be losing money in the fact that the Chinese are fickle with what their say
they will do today and what they will actually do tomorrow. Yes, there could be
some benefit in having stocks in the fabric industry, but don't you already
have some in France and Italy? And you also already have stocks in Japan and
Taiwan, so you already have a foothold in Asia. I honestly don't see what
moving money to the Chinese could bring other than drama and the overall loss
of said money," Alfred concluded with a shrug.
The American Alpha knew that he just pissed off the Beta, and he was all too
please with himself for doing so. The various attendees sitting at the table
whispered amongst themselves, looking back and forth between Alfred and the
Frenchman. Francis had set the challenge, and all Alfred did was meet it. The
Alpha was young, but he was anything and everything but stupid. Francis had
asked for his thoughts, and Alfred had given only about one percent of said
thoughts; all others were too vial and dangerous to mutter in front of Francis,
much less the current congregation they were hosting. Alfred was not stupid.
"Ah, those are very thorough views, Alfred. You've been learning to remember
facts and plan ahead well," Francis beamed more to their visitors than to
Alfred himself. Francis, like Alfred, was not imprudent. Taking what would have
been a mockery of himself and turning it to be self-righteous praises of how
well he had "raised" the American Alpha. And, being as blind as they usually
were, the men and women sitting at the table agreed and commended Francis on
raising such a "fine young business partner".
Alfred stayed still in his seat as Francis closed the meeting. He watched out
of the corner of his eye as the men and women rose and almost each and every
one of them tugged on some sort of cord or leash. They filed out, talking and
joking with the others, and took no head to their pleasure servants that
followed them. Young boys and girls walked on their hands and knees, trying to
keep up with their respected masters and mistresses. Some wore nothing more
than bikinis with high heeled shoes, and others wore long dresses with tight
corsets that even gave young male Betas the body type of a well-built female
Omega. They all kept quiet with their heads down, a few daring ones stole
glances of their fellow slaves and even one dared to raise her head when she
knocked into the back of someone other than her master.
'A stupid mistake made by a stupid Omega slave,' Alfred mused to himself as the
girl was struck by both the man she ran into and her master. Keeping his tongue
still during meetings was not the only thing Alfred picked up on within his
first few years of living with Francis. Keeping quiet or, even better, ignoring
sex slaves was almost taught from birth to those born into the higher classes,
and Alfred learnt the skill quickly.
Once everyone had left and only Francis and Alfred remained the Beta let his
mask of friendly words and loving smiles fall. Truth be told, Francis hated
having to deal with his business partners. He found them to be carefree, simple
minded, all too easy to please; none of them ever actually gave ideas on how to
improve the company they had ties to and, by extension, their own companies.
But he couldn't complain too much. They brought in more money to his bank
account then their own and were very easy to flatter and receive favors from,
thus easy to use and control.
"Well, that was exhausting," Francis spoke blatantly.
Alfred hummed in agreement. He stiffened a bit when Francis pushed his chair
away from the table and tugged on the leash connected to the table. Slowly, an
Omega rose up from under the table, out of her small cage which was situated
there. From above, the table in which business meeting were held appeared to be
nothing more than that: a table. However, underneath it laid a complex system
of cages, wiring, and sound proof metal in which slaves could be kept out of
the way. As one of Francis' own slaves crawled out of her cage and onto her
master's lap, Alfred noticed the teasing look in the Beta's eyes. The
conversation to follow was in no way new to the Alpha male, as Francis and
himself had spoken it time and again.
"So, Alfred, I think it's time you invested in your own serviteur, no?" The
Beta began as he motioned for his dark skinned Omega to undo her one-size-to-
small bikini top. She half-heartedly did so, revealing her small breasts for a
split second before her long, black hair that was tied up into pigtails by two
large ruby coloured ribbons cascaded over her flesh. She was young and Francis
was training her personally, her nearly soulless eyes proving that she was a
newly broken slave that had not yet been taught the rules of performance.
"Aren't you starting to feel your instincts starting to act up? The need to
dominate? The need to breed?"
Alfred's lip twitched at the last part. Francis believed that Alphas and Omegas
were merely creatures ruled by their carnal instincts; that they were nothing
more than animals that wanted nothing more than a good fuck. The other blonde
remained quiet, his only response being one of glaring eyes and pursed lips.
Yes, they had this conversation many times before, and it would end just like
every other time that they had it.
Or so Alfred had believed.
===============================================================================
Bright light filled the room in which its sleeping occupant lay, his breathing
was silent and his naked chest rose so slightly, that it was as if his nude
form didn't move at all. The area where the man slept was a type of nest, built
up with pillows, blankets, dangling gems just above his head, and other little
trinkets that decorated his sleeping area. Each little gem dangling from a
chain or string shone brightly; their colours bouncing off the walls in the
room as the light graced them with its touch. But there was one gem that shone
brighter than any of the others, and that was the one set in the man's necklace
that had an almost choking hold on him. The colours of the gems danced upon the
face of the sleeping man below the gems, his curled form a perfect area for
them to mingle in the oversized bird cage that the man slept in. The golden
cage was held up by an outsized crook neck staff that dangled it a half a foot
off the ground next to a large king sized bed that the man inside the cage knew
all too well, but was forbidden to actually sleep there.
A loud slamming of a door down the corridor had the sleeping man stirring
awake, his eyes straining to keep close, but his natural and taught instincts
informed him that such a choice was unwise. For, his master was coming, and
from the sounds coming from his master's charge, he would not be in a happy
mood. So, with an awkward stretch in his limited space, the viridian eyes of
the once sleeping man fluttered open just in time for the double doors of the
extravagant master bedroom to be opened. A parade of servants and slaves walked
in, led by Francis, the master of the mansion, grounds, servants, and slaves;
the man in the cage included.
"That ungrateful, arrogant, little piece of- Ah!" Francis yelled as he stormed
over the walk in closet that might have well be another bedroom. Some of the
Beta servants quickly set to work on removing the fuming Beta's suit and
undergarments, while a couple other servants went to bathroom connected to the
room and began to scent the indoor hot spring that their master used for
relaxation, baths, or other activities. Once the Beta was in his robe, he
walked back into the bedroom and let his eyes scan over the three slaves he had
the servants bring up to his room.
The man in the cage watched as his master moved from room to room, staying on
his knees in his little nest. As his master was in the closet, he allowed
himself a glance at the slaves that were brought in.
'Two girls, one boy… the one girl looks like she is about to piss herself.
Master will not be happy with that. The other girl… she was the one Master took
with him to the meeting. She probably failed to serve him properly. Such a
shame that she will need to be put back into training… And the boy… He's
alright. He's been here a few times, but he doesn't stand out. Master is going
to be displeased overall…'The green-eyed man sighed silently after his
evaluations. 'This will not be good for his health… Looks like it will fall on
me once again.'
Many times before the caged man would have to pleasure his master because the
slaves the servants picked were usually chosen in a hurry and were not
evaluated properly. While it pissed the caged man off quite a bit, he was used
to it. And this time, he knew it would happen just like every other time.
And lo and behold, he was correct.
"None of these will do! Take them back!" Francis shouted at his servants. They
quickly apologized and grabbed the leashes connected to each of the three
slaves' collars and led them out. The Frenchman growl as he watched them
disappear behind the ivory doors of his room. Once the room was cleared of
servants and unwanted slaves the man sighed in aggravation and glared at the
door in thought for a while. With another, more relaxed, exhalation the man
turned around to face the nude male in the cage.
A smile stretched across the once angry face of the French Beta. "Mon préféré…"
Francis purred as he slowly walked towards the cage. The green eyed man
shivered at the thick accent, something that his master only used before
claiming what he wanted. And at the moment, he wanted the man in the cage.
As his master reached the cage, the man within stayed perfectly still as the
cage door was unlocked with his master's thumb pressed against the electronic
lock and opened for the man to exit. ''You must never move from your cage/room/
bed before Master's command.' Rule number seventeen,' The man recited to
himself mentally.
"You may come out," The voice flowed like honey out of Francis' mouth. And as
taught, his pet removed himself from his safe haven of pillows, trinkets and
golden bars, steeping down onto the floor with his hands, followed by his
knees. He then faced the Beta, mouth open wide with his pink tongue hanging
out, eyes half lidded, and hips pushed up as he bowed his back.
''You must offer your pleasure services every time Master removes you from your
cage/room/bed.' Rule number twenty-one.' The man recited once again as he
thought about what he offering to the man standing before him. The thoughts
were stimulating enough to bring his flaccid member to standing attention, but
years of training had taught the man better than to become excited when he
would only be denied release. ''You may never seek your own pleasure unless
Master is present and has given you consent.' Rule number fifteen.'
"Ah, my dear little Favorite," Francis cooed, "I will be using your services in
the bathroom today as I bathe. You understand, yes?"
A silent nod was the only answer offered to the French Beta as the man on his
hands and knees waited for his signal to move. How Francis loved his most
trained slave, for his manners, performance, and skills surpassed all others.
With a quick turn on his heel, the blue eyed man walked towards the bathroom,
patting his leg as he went, signaling for the other man to follow him. Once in
the bathroom and telling his slave to get in the water, the Beta's mind started
to real as he watched the Omega's backside move left and right as he crawled on
the tile floor.
As Francis followed the green eyed man into the water he smiled in delight at
the plan his mind had just conjured up. His plan was perfect, just as perfect
as the Omega slave that sat in his lap as he rested on the floor of the shallow
pool of hot water. Each kiss, lick, and suck left behind by the blonde slave on
Francis' body only re-assured him of what he was going to instruct the Omega to
do. But with a silent gasp and a shudder of the slave's body as he pinched the
man's nipple to stop him from biting, Francis decided it would be best if he
gave the command after their bath.
"Careful, Arthur. We don't to be leaving marks on Master, do we?"
Arthur shook his head as he pulled away, lowering his head in apology. The
smirk that danced on his master's lips told him that he had plans for his
favorite slave, causing a shudder to rake through Arthur's body, as did the
hands that petted his body like the silken fur of a pet. Arthur waited for any
signal: a flick of the eyes, squeezes in sensitve areas, or straight forward
commands. He waited there for at least five minutes, head bowed slightly and
concentrating on holding still as his master's hands roamed his body.
Finally, Francis spoke with a sigh, "I wish that all of my servants were as
well behaved as you," one of his hands came out of the water, the clear, warm
liquid cascading down his flesh and back into the water, though some stuck to
his skin as he rubbed Arthur's cheek affectionately. "But, that comes with
years of discipline and training. Why don't we do some conditioning, hm? To
keep those perfect manner of yours just like that: perfect," Francis purred
sadistically as his hand went from Arthur's cheek to his shoulder, pushing him
from off of his lap, down into the water where he was in bewteen the
Frenchman's legs and the water just below his mouth. Too bad Francis'
affections were short lived.
Arthur knew what was expected of him, just as all his other masters before
Francis had expected things like this from him. He took a deep, quiet breath
and lowered his face into the water. It stung at first, the heat turning his
pale skin red and made it look as if he were blushing; the capability of such
an act left the Omega long ago when he lost all shame. Opening his mouth while
trying to hold on to as much air in his lungs as possible, Arthur took his
master's half hard cock into his mouth, sucking and licking at it while
consentrating on not losing too much oxygen in his lungs. Waterplay was nothing
new to the seasoned slave. In fact, it had been one of his first commands given
by his first (real) master...."
"Get under the fucking water and suck me dry, whore. And don't come up until
you've done just that!"
Arthur let out a shudder at the memory that decided to flash into his mind, but
it thankfully brought him back to his current situation. Francis was now fully
hard, but Arthur was getting a headache from not breathing. He grasped the
Beta's thighs to steady himself and hoping that his master would realize that
if he continued for much longer, they would have problems.
Apparently, Francis caught the signs of struggling in Arthur's movements and
grabbed the boy's hair, pulling him up out of the water. He watched as his
slave gasped and panted slightly, red skin from the hot water shining brightly
aorund green eyes and swollen lips. Francis found himself once again entranced
by his favorite slave, and his cock pulsed in aggreement. Only if he could have
produced an heir with this Omega, things would have been perfect and he could
die happily at the end of the estimated five years he had left to live. Yes,
life would have been perfect.
But there is no such thing as a "perfect" life.
Francis' face contorted in anger. He grabbed his slave by the back of his neck
and brought the boy up to his face, capturing his mouth in a dominating kiss.
Bites and licks riddled Arthur's lips and neck and confusion plagued his mind
as to his master's sudden burst of passion as he became lost in the heat of the
following moments. Before he knew it, Arthur was straddling Francis' hips and
lowering himself down on to his Master's now aching appendage. Light pants came
from the Omega's lips as he continued to suck at the frenchman's tongue and
tried to focus getting the man's cock into his oiled hole, mentally thanking
his master for letting him prepare himself that morning.
Between groans and pants, the Omega began riding his master. He clung to the
Beta's shoulders, using them as leverage to lift himself up and down, and
unknowingly started to dig his nails into them. Francis let out a low growl in
pain and pleasure as his slave did wonders to him that only he could. Opening
as he went down and clenching as he pulled away, massaging his master's cock
with each movement but anchoring him to reality at the same time through the
pain in his shoulders.
Time passed and Francis felt himself beginning to reach his end, now guiding
his Favorite's hips up and down at almost inhuman speeds. Niether could tell if
it was water from the bath that clung to their bodies or the sweat from their
consumation, but they could feel it between their bodies. Arthur whimpered and
bit at his bottom lip, brow scrunched in overbearing pleasure and concentration
on getting his master to fill him with his seed. It was hard for him; instincts
told him to stop and leave the Beta as he could not deliver what the Omega
physically and subconsciously craved with his infertile semen. But he indured
and pushed the nagging feeling out of his mind, feeling his master's grip
tighten on his hips to bring them closer and closer with each strenuous thrust.
First came the tightening and then the bursting of relief and pure bliss as the
master filled his Omega slave; filling him with incompatible DNA. Arthur gave a
voiceless sigh as he felt the warmth of his master's essence fill him, knowing
that he would need to work hard to keep so much inside of him while still in
the bath. They stayed still, Francis with his head on Arthur's shoulder as he
came down form his sexual high and his breath evened out. The man's mind
wandered as he felt his slave's stiff form support him, going towards the
thought of yet another pointless fucking. Arthur could not give him what he
wanted, and visa versa.
But he knew that when he died, Arthur would probably get what he craved. This
though enraged the Beta: he was the master! He should live in comfort with
everything he wanted! But instead it was his slave that was going to be winning
out in the end. This thought made his blue eyes harden like ice and his grip on
Arhtur tighten even more, to the point of bruises.
Yes, he could have just gone and gotten a Beta slave, but he knew that they
would never be good mothers, at least not as good as Omegas. And he had never
seen one that held the beauty that his Omegas did; especially Arthur. Yes, he
would only give his DNA to one that could give him a perfect child, but that
could never happen.
However, he would still have the last laugh, he would prove that he is the
master and that Arthur is the slave. All he had to do now was make a few phone
calls and distract that pesky Alpha "son" of his from noising around. It
sickened Francis with denied jealousy that the boy had such a bond with his
slave, with his clinging and crying to him as Arthur soothed him like a mother
would their child. But he would teach them both that he was in control, he
always did. He would always be in control. Always.
===============================================================================
Sleep refused to take over Alfred's body as he way on his king sized bed in the
bedroom that he claimed as his after first waking up in said bed nearly five
years prior. It had become some strange form of a 'safe haven' from everything.
It was the last place Alfred was before discovering what had happened to his
brother, and something about that calmed him. Granted it was the place that he
also was given the news about Matthew, and while that bothered him quite a bit,
sleeping in the bedroom seemed to more peaceful than in a different room in a
different house with a different "family".
'Shit… I need to stop trying to reason everything,' Alfred groaned into his
pillow.
The Alpha would have stayed in that position if it had not been the gentle
knocking at the door and the reek of sex that wafted into Alfred's nose.
'Arthur's here… By Francis' bidding no less,' Alfred growled. However, he
couldn't be mad at the slave as he had to obey everything Francis demanded of
him; no matter how much either of them hated it.
So, slowly walking over to the door, Alfred opened the door to let Arthur in
and, to his disgust, the smell of the French Beta. Arthur was dressed in a
white button up shirt that sleeves went to his elbows and then cascaded down to
his wrists with split lace. Following down the smaller man's body, the shirt
became a type of skirt that went to mid-thigh in the front and down to the
floor in the back. He wore white lace stockings with black Victorian heels that
covered up to his knee. He was standing on his feet, something only allowed
when the Master of the slave permitted it, which meant that indeed Francis had
sent him. The Omega looked up Alfred, his green eyes gazing up at him
apologetically for the smell; something else they both found mutual hatred for.
Letting Arthur in, the blue eyed Alpha shut the door and turned around to find
the Omega already nestled on top of the white sheets of the king sized bed. He
looked at the Alpha expectantly, his knees bent in to the side up against his
hip and his manicured hands rested on top of one another on his lap. Alfred
looked the other blonde over, noticing the slight flinch of his body shook with
each time he moved his lower body and the way his newest slave-collar dug into
the flesh of his throat. Francis had taken him shopping for it for the Beta's
ten year anniversary of ownership over the Omega, saying that Alfred knew the
Omega better than anyone else in the house. Which was true.
Alfred moved towards the bed and sat on the edge, his feet planted firmly on
the ground with his back facing Arthur. He sighed and rubbed his neck for a bit
before feeling a pair of smaller, soft hands over his own and started to
massage the tense muscles along his neck and shoulders. Letting out a groan of
approval, Alfred removed his tie and let the Omega move his suit coat from his
body, laying it off to the side at the foot of the bed. Arthur's hands
travelled and rubbed all along Alfred's upper back for a few minutes before
Alfred seemed to visibly relax, signaling to Arthur to stop and resume his
previous position. As soon as the Omega straightened his posture, Alfred
crumbled and fell backwards with his head landing onto Arthur's lap.
Throughout the years, after meeting the Omega that horrid yet glorious day,
Alfred had become attached to Arthur in such a way that he needed the company
of the Omega almost every day. Something about the silence and comfort that the
Omega brought into the room silenced all of the Alfred's questions and doubts,
making the Alpha crave the other's attention. Arthur had also become more than
fond of the young Alpha as well. Something about having the then-child Alpha
relying on him made him feel accomplished and whole, calming his Omega needs
for offspring.
Their relationship was estranged at first, as Francis did not trust the Alpha
with his Omegas, especially his "favorite". But little by little, Arthur had
become not just a slave in Alfred's eyes, but more of a mother figure. The
Omega would care for him after being punished by his adoptive Beta father for
not obeying and doing as he was told. Burning welts and bleeding scratches from
a belt were easily fixed with medicine, but the bruised and beaten ego of the
Alpha could only be healed by the presence of the caring Omega that let him
sleep peacefully on his lap. Their bond only became stronger as Alfred's
fighting will was slowly chipped away, annoying and pleasing Francis at the
same time.
Arthur was always there when Alfred truly needed him and somehow knew when that
was, as he would show up at Alfred's door almost instantaneously as Alfred felt
a migraine coming on. Another slave had once told Alfred that it was like a
sixth sense for them; knowing when their children were in distress caused them
to become distressed. Alfred disliked the thought of being Arthur's "child",
but the feeling grew on him the more the Omega came to his side even when he
didn't realize he needed it.
"Arthur…" Alfred whispered as his hands reached up to cup the Omega's cheek.
The touch was returned with Arthur nudging his face back into the hand, his
mouth forming into a small smile at the warmth Alfred's every body part
radiated with.
Answered with the usual silence, Alfred closed his eyes and focused on the
feeling of his hair being petted and played with. He tried to ignore the scent
that Arthur carried of a recently, and unsuccessfully, bred Omega. It made him
a bit frustrated that the Omega above him obviously craved a child, the scent
was all too obvious, but would never be able to with only breeding to his Beta
Master. The disappointment and sad acceptance of this fact hung tightly to the
scent that was Arthur.
Knotted brows were always a bad sign, Arthur had concluded in his early years.
While he could sense Alfred's feelings, he could not read the Alpha's mind as
to what was causing such distress. He settled on rubbing Alfred's forehead,
watching the lines on his forehead disappear. He smiled sadly before leaning
down and kissing the Alpha's head tenderly. He pulled away to watch Alfred's
body relax into a state of sleep, his smile fading away into concern. 'I wonder
what he is thinking about… It's moments like this that I wish I could talk to
him.'
They remained that way for quite a while, until the door opens and an all too
familiar Beta walked into the room with a knowing smirk dancing across his
lips. Arthur looked up at his master and bowed his head in submission.
"Even at the age of sixteen, the Alpha is still like a child, isn't he?"
Francis teased.
Arthur slowly nodded in reply. He kept his eyes on Alfred's sleeping face,
wishing that he was not currently stuck between his master and the Alpha boy.
But, his master's wants and needs came before his own wishes.
''You please Master first and foremost.' Rule number four,'
"But that will change here soon," Francis continued, his voice pulling Arthur
away from his thoughts. "Come Arthur, time for you to part from your bébé.Oh,
do not cry mon préféré, you will see him again," Francis teased.
It wasn't until his master had commented on it that Arthur felt the tears
pricking his eyes. The thoughts rushing through his mind scared him and somehow
excited him, making him feel shame for the first time in his life. Yes, he was
going to be leaving his child. So, with one last kiss to the forehead, Arthur
quietly moved Alfred's head down on to the bed and smiled as the Alpha mumbled
something.
Francis smirked at the two and motioned for Arthur to come to him, which the
Omega did accordingly. Kissing his slave hungrily, he shot a look at his heir
on the bed and then looked down at the Omega in his arms. It was time for his
boy-son to become the heir he needed, and his slave was as willing as ever to
help in making his plan come through.
'After all, he lives by The Twenty-Five Rules. And rule twenty-five is: You
Live For Your Master's Pleasure As A Pleasure Servant,'Francis thought happily
as he walked his slave out of Alfred's room, down to the front doors, and out
to a black limousine that would take them to a special friend of his.
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