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Silver Chains & Silky Curls

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John Watson clutched his letter tightly in one hand as he limped heavily down the street. A letter that informed him that as a former soldier and an unbounded alpha he was required to accept an omega. The letter also had an address, date, and time.

The auction house was so well known that even though he hadn’t visited the impassive marble building he knew the location without needing the address. He didn’t particularly want to buy an omega. John felt he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself and did not plan on using someone as a tool or toy.

It, however, would be disrespectful in the extreme to disregard his instructions and the solider in him refused to disobey an order. So here he stood, it was 5 'o' clock in the evening and the traffic in the auction house was slow.

John stood in a slightly dim room, a platform covered in harsh light waiting for the omega slaves to be paraded across. He felt uncomfortable, his leg aching for no particular reason other than to annoy him. He would be taking one of the poor souls home with him… despite the fact that he didn’t desire to do so. That had been made very clear the moment he had protested to the beta woman in charge.

It was a high honour and he would accept the honour.

At least, he thought silently, he could give his omega a proper home. He couldn’t free it, that was illegal, but he could take care of it, feed it, keep it safe like a proper alpha was meant to do. When he had first arrived they had asked his preferences on a stack of paperwork.

It had asked for age: (full grown,16+) hair colour? shrugging he had scribbled (dark brown/black). If they were to breed he didn’t particularly want a bunch of redheads or blonds, he had been made fun of enough as a child to have a certain distaste for blond jokes.

Eye colour? John had bit his lip and finally wrote (light) He was basically asking for the opposite of himself in physical appearance. Male/ Female/ Either. He pen hovered over female and moment before scratching out (either) in the blank.

He made sure one thing was very clear, he wasn’t going to take a child. Omegas were auctioned from the minute they could walk. He requested the omega be full grown again verbally to the beta in charge who just grumbled that that meant it would have likely have had a previous alpha. John shrugged his good shoulder, he didn’t care.

Movement on the platform drew his attention as cage after the cage was lined up across the long stage. Twelve men five women. Women sold quicker and were rarely returned, each with their heads partway bowed in the expected omega behaviour. Their hands and ankles restrained by metal cuffs and chains, men and women alike wearing only a black leather collar. Their skin was dirty slicked with oil, and dark hair greasy.

One young man who couldn’t have been older than eighteen particularly caught his eye.

He was younger than most of the omegas on stage just barely stopped growing from what John could tell. While most had their eyes trained on the floor of their cages this boy’s pale eyes were darting around the room landing on John and searching the solider and then when noticing the solider’s gaze on him flinching and dropping his eyes to the filthy cage floor.

John couldn’t tear his eyes from the boy, he walked closer, his skin was marble white, also hairless as was typical of an omega, contrasting violently with the riot of black curls on his bowed head. The dirty oil-slicked body was malnourished but slight hints of muscle were still visible under the snowy hairless skin. Unusually broad shoulders for an omega, but with the expected characteristics of softly curving hips, a plush arse, pink lips, and thin build.

He was kneeling in his cage either refusing or unable to stand.

Long pale fingers twitched every so often and he could practically feel the slave vibrating with discomfort.

John turned a cursory gaze to the other omega slaves and saw nothing. They all stared blankly, their pale eyes dead. Only the slight rise of their chest keeping them alive. His decision made John turned walking back to the woman nearer the centre of the room.

“Him” he nodded at the twitching boy with the dark curls.

“Are you certain? I must warn you this one is particularly clingy”

John let his gaze drift over the malnourished frame through the bars the alpha and doctor in him both bristling at the clear outline of ribs and concave stomach.

“Yes, I want him” The beta shook her head slightly in disbelief and typed something into her phone.

“Sign here” she tapped a paper on her clipboard, “here, here, here, and here”

John signed blindly watching as all of the dark-haired, light eyed, omegas but his own were rolled off the stage.

His Own Omega

He realised with a start. He was a slave owner, something he had never wanted to be. Two muscular men alphas dressed in the black uniform of slave handlers grabbed the boy from the cage by either arm literally dragging the limp form to John and dropping it in a heap at his feet.

The boy whimpered curling in on himself and letting his naked back face John as the two alpha guards roughly clamped a lead on the leather collar. John’s alpha fought to bite back a growl when one smacked the omega’s bare arse with the lead.

John himself wanted to be sick he also wanted to tear the two alphas apart. The marble pale back was plastered in makeup but even that couldn’t hide the deep grooves cut into the skin, the harsh raised scars.

John bit his lip accepting the leather lead from one of the slavers and a black duffle from the other with a slight snarl of “Mine” directed at the handlers and turned to leave.