Chapter Text
Louisiana was hot that afternoon, the close sweltering heat sitting uncomfortably around his shoulders and neck. Will had felt too hot all day, constantly swiping beads of sweat away from his forehead, the back of his neck and his upper lip. It was starting to become unbearable, but Will just kept wiping away the sweat.
He’d finished school and headed straight to the angling shop that was ten minutes away from the trailer park where he and his father lived. Will stopped by it nearly every week, gazing longingly in at the window displays of shining fishing tackle with wonder in his eyes. Today was no different. He slowed as he approached the shop, hitching his back pack over his shoulder a little as it slipped. God, he was sweating so much. He scrubbed a hand through his damp curls, back from his forehead, and gazed in at the display eagerly. He was so lost in staring at all the new tackle that he didn’t notice the figure approaching him in the reflection of the glass. It wasn’t until the hand clamped down on his shoulder that he realised he’d been seized, another hand clamped over his mouth to cut his screams short and smother him with the chemical soaked rag that sent him falling back into unconsciousness.
There was no one else on the street to see the fourteen year old boy be dragged into the waiting car except the sun that continued to blaze away above them.
*
When Will woke up he was still sweating. His head throbbed and he gagged on the taste festering in his mouth, sticking to his gums and teeth and tongue. His eyes were bleary, his vision spinning. The blurry vision wasn’t entirely new, as he hadn’t had a pair of glasses for months now, not since Gregory Aspin had punched him in the face and broke his old ones; him and his dad couldn’t afford things like new prescription glasses. When his vision came to he was in a stark white room. There was nothing in the room with him other than the bed he lay on. The bed he was tied to, in fact, as he tried to move only to find there were thick leather cuffs restraining his wrists and ankles.
What the fuck was this?
Will bit his tongue to keep back his cry of ‘hello’, quickly realising whoever had put him here did not have good intentions and he wanted to go as long as possible without having them in this room.
His dad was going to kill him. He’d be sick with worry, furious that Will hadn’t come home. Was it still the same day even? There was nothing but a slither of a window in the wall that the headboard of the bed was pushed against, his view of the sky extremely limited. It was still light outside, but that didn’t mean much. He could have been unconscious for days, or a few hours. He had no way of knowing. All he knew was that he was too hot.
Will lay there for hours. He watched the thin strip of window display the moving sun, watched the sky change. He was still sweating and his skin was itching and even his teeth didn’t feel right in his own head. Had they drugged him? He could see no signs of any needle punctures on his arms, but that wasn’t to say there weren’t injection sites in his neck or anywhere else on his body he couldn’t see. Will had been pushing down the panic attack for a good few hours now, but it was slowly starting to creep up on him. His lungs felt too small, shrivelled in his chest as he desperately attempted to suck enough air in. It felt like his skull would crack in two at any moment, searing pain licking over his brain. He twitched involuntarily in the restraints, spasms wracking through his muscles and his vision began to blur even more.
He started sobbing softly, turning his head into the pillow he rested on and rubbing his face against it for comfort as he cried.
This wasn’t right. This wasn’t normal, this feeling wasn’t natural.
The door to the room opened after what felt like another hour. Will barely had the energy to roll his eyes towards to door.
A woman stood there, softly shutting the door behind her before Will had time to catch a glance of what lay beyond the door. She was utterly non-descriptive. Mousy hair, uninteresting facial features other than a slight scar underneath her left eye, excruciatingly normal height and weight. Will sniffed the air. Beta.
“Hello William,” she murmured gently.
“What is this?” he croaked, amazed his voice still worked.
“You’re in heat,” she replied as she stepped forwards to the bed, noting Will’s flinch. “You’ve presented as an Omega.”
Will swallowed. “How do you... why am I here?”
Will received no reply to this. She simply stepped closer and closer until she came to the side of the bed. Will noticed the small bag with her. She placed it next to him on the bed and unzipped it, pulling out a water bottle. In a matter of seconds, it was unscrewed and held to Will’s lips and he frantically gulped it down.
“Careful,” she warned. “Don’t drink too quickly; you’ll upset your stomach.”
“What’s going to happen to me?” Will rasped out, eyes pleading.
She averted her eyes and ignored him again. She then slowly let Will finish the water bottle and then reached underneath the bed to pull out a small white basin.
“Do you need to relieve yourself?” she enquired, her face completely blank.
Will blushed. “I..”
She unclasped the restraints around his wrists and ankles and helped him to his wobbling feet. “I suggest you take up the offer now. I’ll only be returning every couple of hours to feed you, make sure you drink and give you the chance to relieve yourself.”
Will shuddered. “Can... I just- can you please turn around?”
She sighed and very gradually half turned her back, still poised to act. Will quickly made use of her offer and used the white basin, cringing at every single bit about this God awful situation. When he was done, she turned back round, strapped him back into the restraints, spoon fed him a pleasantly warm dish of salmon and rice and then left him alone, taking the basin with her. The door shut and he was alone again.
Heat. He was in heat. In a room on his own, with no idea where the fuck he was and some random Beta woman was spoon feeding him and making him piss in a pot. His very first heat. He hadn’t know he was an Omega. He was supposed to be a Beta, not a fucking Omega. He was so ordinary, so... so not-Omega that it made his skin crawl to even acknowledge what was going on. He had the social skills of a rock, he wasn’t graceful or delicate and he liked to go fishing for God’s sake, the most adventurous thing Omegas did was fucking ballet. He was everything an Omega shouldn’t be and he was absolutely terrified of what this heat was going to do to him.
His groin throbbed and another sob escaped his lips.
After a few hours the heat took hold of him and wrecked his body. He couldn’t remember what happened, there was nothing other than vacant flashes of consciousness; snapshots of mousy blonde hair pushing water bottles to his mouth, aches in his bones and his blood that sang out so badly he wanted to peel his skin off, his entire pelvic area feeling like he’d been impaled and flayed alive all at once as the days crept by and he still found no relief. He wanted to hold and touch and grab and scream and thrust but he couldn’t; all he could do was writhe in agony on slick soaked sheets and wail.
When it passed, he felt liked he’d had every drop of blood drained from his body. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t even lift his eyelids for more than a few minutes. He was beyond exhausted. He had, however, survived.
A few more days passed and he was starting to become hopeless. His dad was going to be out of his mind and there were probably people looking for him. He just wished he knew where he was. The woman said nothing to him whenever he asked any questions. She merely said hello most of the time and then tended to the quivering Omega in silence.
Will had nearly regained his strength back when she came to him one day with two other people. Two other surly looking betas that didn’t made eye contact and didn’t listen when he gasped in pain at their unforgiving hold on him when they removed him from the room. The woman simply gazed at him as he was dragged from the room, her face blank as always.
He was blindfolded as soon as he was out of the door he’d been staring at for what must have been two weeks and unceremoniously carried down a flight of stairs and out the building. The fresh air hit his skin and he’d never felt more amazing than he did in that minute, he sucked in a good lungful of air before being jostled into a vehicle – he assumed he was in the back of a van – and then felt dread settle heavily in his stomach as the van began to move.
He wasn’t sure how long they drove for, but it felt roughly like an hour. The van slowed to a stop and more jostling, more carrying and then he was dumped on his knees. He was kept blindfolded with his hands bound behind his back until footsteps approached and a pair of strong, calloused hands forced his mouth open and shoved a gag past his lips. He moaned softly in fear when those hands started to rip his clothes from him until he was completely naked. He could hear the distant murmur of a large group of people and he shuddered. Was that a good thing? Would he be able to scream out and ask them to help him or was this just another awful and bizarre part of this whole experience?
A while later he was shoved to his feet again and what he can only assume is a collar is secured around his throat. It has a leash, and he’s dragged along by it.
The voices are not muffled any longer. They were strong and ringing in his ears and he wants to crawl into a ball and cry and whimper and he wants his dad. He’s dragged forwards a few more paces and then his handler stops. The voices slowly dissipate into silence and his skin prickles at the knowledge there are eyes staring at his naked body.
“Thank you ladies and gentlemen.”
The voice is male, strong and resonates around the room and is very clearly not from Louisiana. Where is he?
“Here we have Number 12,” the voice begins, sounding as if he’s speaking into a microphone. “Male Omega, fourteen years of age and originating from Louisiana. He’s a sweet natured little thing and has just had his first heat a few days ago. He’s unmated, not bonded and is a virgin. It’s a real shame to let this one go, which is why I’ll be starting bidding at seventy thousand.”
The rest is a blur after that. Will takes the time to process the fact he’s being sold off in some sort of fucked up Omega auction and he is without a doubt going to be raped at some point in the future. Will tried his best to keep his whimpers locked inside his chest and shivers at bay, the only thing he could do in front of all these people, as he didn’t want them to have the satisfaction of seeing a trembling little Omega. He knew he stank of fear; his pheromones were behaving erratically now he’d presented.
“Last bid at three hundred and fifty thousand,” the voice called out. “Going once... twice...”
Will swallowed.
“Sold! Congratulations Mr. Verger.”