The Pack House

Will Part 1

A/N: very mini chapter. Comment & Vote!

Will's screams filled the entire house.

Even Red's face was twisted uncomfortably. After a painful fifteen minutes the client came downstairs. His face was drawn in fury. "Worst fuck I've ever had Red--and that's prime meat up there."

"Sorry," muttered Red, taking the bills. "Did you at least--"

"Yeah. Somehow." He shook his head. "This used to be the best Pack House in the States--what the hell happened?"

Red swore loudly after the man left. "It's not--"

"Mason, I'm sick of it. Two weeks and I've only made fifteen hundred bucks. Half of them don't want to pay for that. And those that will get off on it will take advantage of him..."

"Because you have him tied to the bed like some..." I couldn't even think of a word to describe how sick what he was doing was. "I'm going up there!"

"That was his last one so go ahead." Red collapsed on the couch. Marc was in the hallway waiting angrily.

"I'm sick of listening to him screaming every goddamn night."

"Do you blame him? How would you like to be raped?"

"Raped? Seriously? He's an Omega--it's his fucking duty."

I stared at Marc in disgust. "Get away from me." I spit going down the hallway and into Will's room.

As usual the boy was tied down, legs spread wide. The client had put a pillow under his abdomen, no doubt to make entrance easier. A pillow case had been stuffed in his mouth. My heart ached for him as I crouched beside him carefully, pulling the wad of fabric out of his mouth. "Make it stop!" He croaked weakly. "Please. It hurts so much..."

"I know buddy." I freed a knot on his ankle and shook my head at the raw bruising. "I'm so sorry..."

The fact he was tied like this nightly was disgusting. Bruises littered his back, ass, and hips. I freed his legs and he snapped his legs together and began to cry. He rolled over and the slight rounded to his abdomen caught my attention. Had Red ignored it earlier? There was no way this kind of position and such rough sex was good for a baby...

I helped Will to the bathroom. As usual he acted as if me helping him brought him shame. He grabbed my hand as I moved the sponge between his legs. I pursed my lips and obediently passed it to him. His legs began to tremble and I caught him before he hit the ground. "I deserve this," he whispered after a long moment.

I took the sponge from his trembling hands. "No you don't."

"Yes, yes I do. I keep wanting the baby to die. I'm a monster--this is my punishment."

I didn't know what to say. "So you think--"

The boy shook his head. "I know. I can just tell..." he choked. "It's inside me. This thing. And I hate it and I know I shouldn't."

He was sobbing as the water came down. I couldn't imagine how he must have been feeling so I cleaned him up quietly, toweled him off, and helped him back to his room.

QOTC: thoughts?!