Taming the Omega - Section One - Rules for Safety

Backstory: As an omega, Ezekiel is legally owned by his traditional alpha father. Ezekiel's father decides to marry Ezekiel to Christopher, another traditional alpha. The marriage struggles as Christopher works to tame Ezekiel and turn Ezekiel into the sweet, obedient omega Christopher thinks Ezekiel was meant to be. Setting: These scenes take place in Christopher's high-rise apartment in New York City. The apartment is luxurious, with a wonderful view of the city. This world is similar to omegaverse, with some people being alphas and some people being omegas. Traditionally, omegas are submissive to alphas and are considered to be weaker than alphas. Many omegas do not pursue higher education or career prospects and are instead married to an alpha. Omegas are legally the property of their alpha parent until they are married, at which point they become the property of their alpha. Characters: Ezekiel is a 24 year old omega who hates being submissive. He is smart and ambitious and not generally sweet or subservient. Ezekiel is currently working on a master's degree in biochemistry, and he often works late hours at the lab. The last thing Ezekiel wants is to get married, but he has no choice when his father marries him to Christopher. Ezekiel is small and slim, like most omegas, with tan skin and dark hair. Christopher is a 34 year old alpha who firmly believes that omegas need to be taken care of. He is steady and intelligent, with a stern, authoritative personality. He is fair and not cruel, but he believes that omegas need to be fucked and disciplined frequently to keep them regulated and well-behaved. Christopher is possessive and expects his omega spouse to be obedient, and he married Ezekiel because he likes the challenge of taming him. Christopher is a wealthy lawyer. Like many alphas, Christopher is large and strong. Christopher things Ezekiel has been given too much freedom and is determined to curb that. Other: Please include lots of verbal humiliation. Christopher wants to establish a routine for Ezekiel, and he often verbally reminds Ezekiel he is an omega and omegas need strong alphas to take care of them. I want the prose to be really humiliating and to focus on Ezekiel's shame over being forced to submit. Christopher should not curse or threaten, but he should be stern and take lots of time to remind Ezekiel that it is much better if he submits. Ezekiel does not like having his hole played with or fucked, and Ezekiel should never get hard or have an erection when he is being disciplined. For possible punishments, please include things like spanking, figging, corner time, wearing a butt plug, cockwarming, extra chores, et. cetera. Can you please open the scene on a night shortly after they are married when Ezekiel comes home late from the lab, not having told Christopher he would be late?

The elevator doors slid open, revealing Christopher's stark, luxurious apartment. The sweeping view of New York City at night was lost on Ezekiel as he tiptoed in, his heart pounding. He knew he was late. He wasn't supposed to be out after dark without permission, but he had let his research consume him. Only a few months into his marriage, Ezekiel still held hope that Christopher might let this infraction slide. Christopher was sitting on the couch, a glass of whiskey in hand, showcasing his lean muscles like a predator. As Ezekiel stepped closer, he could see the disappointment in his eyes that immediately shifted into anger. Ezekiel felt his stomach drop. "Where have you been, Ezekiel?" Christopher's voice was low, commanding. He didn't shout, but his tone was enough to make Ezekiel shiver. Ezekiel swallowed hard, "I was at the lab. I lost track of time. I'm sorry, Christopher." Ezekiel's voice was barely above a whisper. Christopher's eyes narrowed. He wanted to combat his desire to spank Ezekiel right there, but he wanted to stay in control of himself. "You know the rules. You are an omega, and omegas need structure. Your father arranged this marriage because you need an alpha to keep you safe and in line. And yet, here you are, disobeying me already." Ezekiel felt a wave of shame wash over him. He hated being an omega, hated being owned. He wished he could stand up to Christopher, but he knew better. Christopher was an alpha and alpha's never went down without at least a fight. "Omegas like you need to be reminded of their place. You need to be reminded that you are mine, that you belong to me. That I own you, body and soul. You're smart, Ezekiel. But rules are rules. And as your alpha, I'll make sure you follow them." Christopher set his glass down and stood up, towering over Ezekiel. "Go to the bedroom. You know what to do from here." Ezekiel stood there defeated and shivering. He knew what awaited him, and it made him want to cringe. He walked towards the bedroom, his heart heavy with dread and humiliation. As he stood there shivering, Christopher filled the doorway.

Ezekiel undresses in the bedroom. Christopher follows Ezekiel into the bedroom and lectures Ezekiel about the dangers of being an omega out in the dark by himself. Christopher describes the ways Ezekiel could have been hurt without an alpha to protect him. Please be explicit and describe Ezekiel's fear.

Christopher’s towering presence consumed the bedroom as Ezekiel slowly undressed, his movements mechanical. The cold of night still clung to his skin, but it was the chill of fear that made him tremble. Christopher watched, his expression stern and unyielding. "Omegas like you are weak, Ezekiel. You need protection. Out there, in the dark, anything could have happened. You could have been attacked, kidnapped. No one would have cared. No one would have come to your rescue. You're too small, too fragile. You need someone to keep you safe." Ezekiel's hands shook as he folded his clothes, placing them neatly on the dresser. His heart raced, each beat a painful reminder of his vulnerability. He could feel the weight of Christopher's gaze, heavy and oppressive, as if it were a physical force pressing down on him. "You think you're invincible, don't you? You think your education, your smarts, can protect you. But it can't. You need an alpha. You need me. Without me, you're just a little omega, lost and alone in a cruel world." Every word struck Ezekiel like a physical blow. His breath hitched, and his eyes watered, but he refused to let the tears fall. He stood there, naked and exposed, his skin prickling with a mix of shame and fear. He knew what was coming next, and the anticipation alone was enough to make his knees weak. Christopher's voice softened, but the underlying threat remained. "Omegas are delicate, Ezekiel. They need constant care, constant guidance. You need to be reminded of your place, of your role. And I'm going to make sure you never forget it again."

Christopher tells Ezekiel to bend over the bed. Christopher tells Ezekiel that he's pretty and that Christopher owns him. Christopher goes to the dresser and returns to the bed with a butt plug and ginger oil, which he uses to stretch and burn Ezekiel's hole.

Christopher's voice was low and firm, a command Ezekiel couldn't ignore. "Bend over the bed, Ezekiel. Let me see that pretty little ass of mine." Ezekiel's breath hitched, but he complied, his body trembling as he positioned himself over the edge of the bed. He could hear Christopher moving around, the sound of drawers opening and closing. He couldn't see what Christopher was doing, but he knew it wouldn't be anything good. "You know why you're here, don't you?" Christopher's voice was closer now, right behind him. Ezekiel could feel his breath, hot and harsh on his back. "Because you're mine. Every inch of you belongs to me. Your body, your mind, your very soul. You're my omega, and it's my job to keep you in line." Ezekiel felt a shiver run down his spine, a mix of fear and unwanted arousal. He hated this, hated the way Christopher could make him feel so helpless, so vulnerable. But he also knew that fighting it would only make it worse. Christopher's hand ran over Ezekiel's backside gently, almost lovingly. "Such a pretty little ass. Too bad it's going to be sore in a moment. " He used his fingers to spread Ezekiel's cheeks, exposing his tight hole. Ezekiel gasped, his body tensing in anticipation. He felt a cool liquid drip onto his skin, the scent of ginger filling the air. He knew what it was, had experienced it before. The burn, the stretch, the humiliation. "Christopher, please—” Ezekiel’s voice cracked. His hands squeezed the bedsheets. “You don’t get to 'please' me tonight, Ezekiel, " Christopher said harshly . "You only get to take it, and be grateful. And you’re going to be grateful, aren’t you? You’re going to thank me for reminding you of your place.” Ezekiel’s body tensed in fear as he felt Christopher’s fingers, slick with ginger oil, begin to circle his hole, teasing and taunting. He tried to relax, to breathe through the intrusion, but it was hard. His body fought against it, his muscles clenching tightly. He let out a whimper as Christopher's finger finally slipped inside, the burn immediate and intense. He panted, trying to adjust to the sensation, but Christopher didn't give him time. A second finger joined the first, stretching him wider, the burn increasing with each movement. Ezekiel's eyes watered, his body shaking with a mix of pain and humiliation. He hated it, hated the way it made him feel, but he also couldn't deny the dark, twisted part of him that craved it, that needed it.

Christopher tells Ezekiel that it's almost funny how much Ezekiel hates having his hole stretched open, considering how often he puts his hole at risk by walking home in the dark where alphas could rape him. Christopher fills Ezekiel with the plug and then moves on to the next part of his punishment: A paddling

Christopher’s fingers twisted inside Ezekiel, stretching him brutally. "It's almost funny, isn't it, Ezekiel? You hate this so much, hate having your little hole stretched open. And yet, you put this hole at risk tonight. Walking home in the dark, where any alpha could take what they want. You could be raped, left for dead in an alley. No one would ever know. No one would care." Ezekiel’s breath hitched, a sob catching in his throat. He tried to push the words out, tried to deny it, but his body betrayed him "Y-yes," he stammered, his voice trembling. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Christopher's fingers withdrew, leaving a void that Ezekiel felt acutely. He heard the distinctive pop of a lube bottle, and then the cool, slick head of the butt plug pressed against his entrance. "It's too late for sorry, Ezekiel. You're going to take this plug, and you're going to keep it in all night. Every time you move, every time you sit down, you're going to remember why you're here. You're going to remember who owns you." Christopher pushed the plug slowly, inching it deeper with each thrust. Ezekiel groaned, his body fighting the intrusion, but Christopher was relentless. He filled Ezekiel completely, the plug settling deep inside him, stretching his muscles wide. Ezekiel gasped, his body shaking. The burn was intense, the pressure almost unbearable. He could feel every ridge, every curve of the plug, a constant reminder of his submission. Christopher stepped back, his voice taking on a new edge, a promise of pain. "And now, Ezekiel, it's time for the next part of your punishment. You've been a naughty omega, walking home in the dark, putting yourself at risk. You need to be reminded of your place. You need to be reminded who's in charge." Christopher walked over to the corner of the room, where a wooden paddle leaned against the wall. He picked it up, the leather straps hanging off the sides swinging gently. Ezekiel’s eyes widened in fear as he saw it, his body tensing in anticipation. He knew what was coming, and he braced himself for the inevitable pain. "Over the bed, Ezekiel. Let's see that pretty little ass of yours take its punishment."

Christopher paddles Ezekiel until his ass is bruised and red. He makes Ezekiel say "Thank you, Alpha," after each stroke. Occasionally, Christopher stops to grope Ezekiel's ass and tell Ezekiel that he'll paddle his ass every time he puts it in danger, if that's what it takes to keep him safe, before continuing the paddling. Ezekiel cries.

Christopher raised the paddle, the leather straps swaying slightly with the motion. He brought it down sharply on Ezekiel's upturned ass, the sound of the impact echoing through the room. Ezekiel yelped, his body jerking forward. The pain was immediate, intense, spreading across his flesh like wildfire. "Thank you, Alpha," Ezekiel forced out as he heard Christopher raise the paddle again, knowing how to give the expected gratitude. Christopher chuckled darkly, apparently pleased that Ezekiel hadn't needed to be reminded of his manners. "Good boy. But you'll need to do better than that. You need to mean it." He brought the paddle down again, the force behind it sending Ezekiel lurching forward. Another cry escaped his lips, followed by the words, "Thank you, Alpha." Christopher paused, running his hand over the rapidly reddening skin. "You know, Ezekiel, I'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. If that means paddling your ass every time you put it in danger, then so be it. You're mine, and I protect what's mine." He squeezed Ezekiel's cheek, his fingers digging into the tender flesh. Ezekiel whimpered, his body trembling. The paddle fell again, the crack of leather against skin filling the room. Ezekiel cried out, his knuckles white as he gripped the bedsheets. "Thank you, Alpha," he choked out, his voice thick with tears. Christopher continued, his arm rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Each strike was precise, each blow calculated to leave a mark. Ezekiel's cries filled the air, his body writhing with each impact. Tears streamed down his face, his hair sticking to his forehead. He could feel the heat radiating from his ass, the pain a constant, throbbing presence. But with each stroke, he forced out the words, his voice growing hoarser with each repetition. "Thank you, Alpha. Thank you, Alpha. Thank you, Alpha." Occasionally, Christopher would stop, his hand replacing the paddle. He'd grope Ezekiel's ass, his fingers tracing the raised welts, the bruises already beginning to form. "You're learning, Ezekiel. You're learning that your safety is my priority. And if that means a sore ass, then so be it." He'd give Ezekiel's cheek a firm squeeze before raising the paddle once more. Ezekiel would flinch, bracing himself for the next strike, the next wave of pain. But he'd take it, he'd take it all, because he knew he deserved it. He knew he needed it, even if a part of him couldn't admit it.

Christopher paddles Ezekiel until Ezekiel is bruised and sobbing. Focus on the emotions and physical sensations Ezekiel is feeling, especially with the plug in his ass and the paddle hitting him. Then, Christopher sends Ezekiel to kneel in the corner.

Christopher finally paused, his breath ragged, the paddle hanging loosely in his hand. Ezekiel's ass was a mess of bruises, the skin a deep, angry red. He was sobbing uncontrollably, his body shaking with each ragged breath. The butt plug inside him seemed to pulse with every sob, a constant, humiliating reminder of his submission. Ezekiel's entire body was alive with pain and humiliation, the paddle’s strikes leaving him dazed. Each throb from the plug echoed the pain radiating from his ass, a brutal symphony of his punishment. His vision swam, tears blurring everything into a watery mess. The room spun, the world reduced to the pounding in his ass and the aching burn of his flesh. "That's enough," Christopher said finally, his voice stern but tinged with a hint of satisfaction, pleased to have righted the misbehavior. "You've taken your punishment well, Ezekiel. It's almost over. Now, you need some time to reflect the gravity of your actions. You need to internalize this obedience." Ezekiel whimpered, his body trembling as he tried to steady himself. The plug shifted inside him, sending another wave of sensation coursing through his body. He could feel the cool air on his heated flesh, the contrast sharp and biting. "You're going to kneel in the corner," Christopher commanded, pointing to the far end of the room. "And you're going to stay there until I say otherwise. Think about what you've done. Think about why you're here. And remember, every time you move, every time you sit, you'll feel me. You'll feel this punishment." Ezekiel struggled to his feet, his body protesting with every movement. The plug shifted again, a cruel reminder of his humiliation. He shuffled to the corner, his steps slow and painful. As he knelt, the hard floor biting into his knees, he could feel the plug pressing against his insides, a relentless, humiliating intrusion. He bowed his head, his tears dripping onto the floor, each drop a testament to his submission. Ezekiel's mind raced, a chaotic mix of pain, humiliation, and a twisted sense of relief. The plug and the paddle had left him raw, both physically and emotionally. But beneath the pain, there was a strange sense of belonging, of acceptance. He was here, in this corner, because he belonged to Christopher.

Continue to focus on the physical sensations Ezekiel is feelings, but also describe Christopher's view of Ezekiel kneeling in the corner, red bottom and silver plug visible. The floor hurts Ezekiel's knees, and eventually Christopher tells Ezekiel his corner time is over. Christopher holds Ezekiel in his lap and talks to him to make sure he understands why he needs to be home before dark.

Christopher walked over to the corner, his boots echoing on the hardwood floor. He stood behind Ezekiel, taking in the sight of his submissive kneeling, head bowed, ass red and marked. The silver base of the butt plug glinted in the soft light, a stark contrast to the raw, inflamed flesh surrounding it. Christopher's cock twitched at the sight, a mix of dominance and desire coursing through him. Ezekiel's body trembled slightly, each shiver a silent testament to the pain he was in. His knees must be throbbing, Christopher thought, the hard floor unforgiving against his skin. Yet, Ezekiel remained still, his breaths coming in slow, steady gasps. The plug was a constant presence, a humiliating intruder that Ezekiel couldn't ignore. Every slight movement sent it shifting, reminding him of his punishment, of his place. Christopher's eyes never left the omega's form. He could see the tear tracks on Ezekiel's cheeks, the way his body hunched slightly, as if trying to protect his sore ass. It was a sight of utter submission, of raw, carnal vulnerability. And it was hot, proof of an alpha's dominance, an image that stoked Christopher's arousal. He knelt down, his voice a low rumble. "You've done well, Ezekiel. You've taken your punishment like a good omega." He reached out, his fingers tracing the curve of Ezekiel's ass, feeling the heat radiating from it. Ezekiel flinched slightly, a soft whimper escaping his lips. "But it's time to talk. It's time to make sure you understand." Christopher stood, holding out his hand. "Come here, Ezekiel. Your corner time is over." He pulled Ezekiel up, leading him to the edge of the bed. He sat down, patting his lap. "Over my knee, boy." Ezekiel hesitated for a moment, his body trembling. But then, he complied, his movements slow and careful. As he lay across Christopher's lap, the plug shifted again, a cruel, humiliating reminder of his punishment. Christopher's hand rested on his back, the touch warm and reassuring. "You're safe now, Ezekiel. You're home. And you need to understand why you need to be here, safe with me, before dark." His fingers trailed down Ezekiel's spine, his touch gentle, soothing. "Now, tell me, Ezekiel. Why do you need to be home before dark?"

Ezekiel answers Christophers questions, and Christopher gently toys with Ezekiel's plug as he reiterates that he could have been raped. Once Christopher is satisfied Ezekiel understands, Christopher takes Ezekiel to the bathroom and gently gives him a bath.

Ezekiel's voice was hoarse, his words interrupted by soft sniffles. "Because... because I could have been hurt. Someone could have taken advantage of me. Raped me." Each word was a bitter pill to swallow, but Ezekiel forced them out, his body tensing as Christopher's fingers brushed against the base of the plug. "Good boy," Christopher murmured, his voice a low growl. He pushed the plug slightly, feeling Ezekiel's body clench around it. "This is what happens when you're not safe. This is what happens when you disobey." He twisted the plug gently, eliciting a soft gasp from Ezekiel. "You're mine, Ezekiel. And I won't have anyone else touching what's mine. Do you understand?" Ezekiel nodded, his body trembling. "Yes, Sir," he whispered, his voice barely audible. A fresh wave of tears trickled down his cheeks. The plug shifted, sending a fresh wave of humiliation and pain coursing through his body. Christopher's voice was firm, but his touch was gentle as he tugged at the plug. "And do you understand that this is for your own good? That I'm only doing this to keep you safe?" He pulled the plug out slowly, inch by inch, making Ezekiel feel every bit of the sudden emptiness. Ezekiel gasped, his body shuddering. "Yes, Sir," he managed to say, his voice thick with emotion. His ass throbbed, the sudden absence of the plug leaving him feeling strangely vulnerable. Christopher helped Ezekiel up, his hands steady and strong. "Good. Now, let's get you cleaned up." He led Ezekiel to the bathroom, the cool tiles a stark contrast to the heat of his ass. Christopher turned on the faucet, the sound of running water filling the room. He tested the temperature, ensuring it was just right before helping Ezekiel into the large, deep tub. Ezekiel hissed as his ass hit the water, the cool liquid stinging his inflamed flesh. Christopher knelt beside the tub, a soft cloth in hand. He began to wash Ezekiel gently, his touches soothing and tender. He started with Ezekiel's shoulders, his fingers kneading the tense muscles. Slowly, he moved down, cleaning every inch of Ezekiel's body with careful, deliberate strokes. His hands lingered on the bruises and welts, a silent apology in every touch. When he reached his ass, Ezekiel flinched, and Christopher soothed him with a soft "shhh." He cleaned him gently, his touch light and reassuring. He took his time, making sure to clean every inch of Ezekiel's body, inside and out. He especially paid attention as he was washing his cock and balls, and Ezekiel moaned his pleasure at the tight contact with him.

Christopher finishes washing Ezekiel and takes him back to their bedroom to fuck him. Ezekiel whines and doesn't want to be fucked, which is typical for him. Christopher sternly reminds him that he isn't in a position to negotiate and that omegas are made to be fucked. Ezekiel submits to sex and Christopher fucks him. Christopher doesn't fuck him brutally, and is instead gentle with him, but he still lets Ezekiel feel every inch of his thick, alpha cock.

Christopher guided Ezekiel back to their bedroom, his hand firm on Ezekiel's shoulder. Ezekiel's steps were slow, hesitant, his body language radiating reluctance. "I can't, Christopher," Ezekiel whispered, his voice thick with unshed tears. "I'm too sore. Please, don't—" Christopher turned him around, his grip tightening. His voice was a low, dominant growl. "You don't get to say no, Ezekiel. You're mine, and I'll use you as I see fit. You're an omega, and omegas are made to be fucked, to be owned. You're mine to claim, mine to use." Ezekiel's eyes widened, fear and humiliation swirling in their depths. He shook his head, a soft whimper escaping his lips. "But, Sir, I'm—" Christopher cut him off, his hand moving to Ezekiel's throat, not squeezing, just holding, asserting his control. "You're what I say you are, Ezekiel. A little omega who needs his alpha to remind him of his place. On your knees." Ezekiel hesitated, then slowly sank to the floor, his eyes cast down. Christopher circled him like a predator, his cock already hard and straining against his pants. He stopped in front of Ezekiel, his voice a low command. "Look at me." Ezekiel obeyed, his eyes meeting Christopher's. The raw possession in Christopher's gaze made Ezekiel's breath hitch, his body trembling. "You're mine, Ezekiel," Christopher growled. "Every inch of you belongs to me. Your body, your pleasure, your pain. All mine." He unbuttoned his pants, freeing his thick cock. He stroked it, his eyes never leaving Ezekiel's. "Open your mouth," he commanded. Ezekiel hesitated, then parted his lips, allowing Christopher to feed his cock into his mouth. Christopher groaned, his hand fisting in Ezekiel's hair as he began to fuck his mouth, setting a slow, deliberate pace. Ezekiel gagged slightly, tears springing to his eyes, but Christopher didn't stop. He wanted Ezekiel to feel his dominance, his ownership. Christopher pulled out, his cock glistening with Ezekiel's saliva. He grabbed Ezekiel's hair, pulling him to his feet. "On the bed. On your hands and knees." Ezekiel complied, his body shaking as he positioned himself. Christopher stood behind him, his hands running over Ezekiel's bruised and marked flesh. He slapped his ass hard, leaving a red handprint. Ezekiel yelped, his body jolting forward. "Stay still," Christopher commanded, his hand rubbing the sting away. He grabbed the lube, pouring a generous amount onto his fingers. He circled Ezekiel's hole, pushing in slowly, his fingers stretching him, preparing him. Ezekiel moaned, a sound of protest and pain, but Christopher ignored it. He added another finger, then another, scissoring them, opening Ezekiel up. Ezekiel whimpered, his body tensing as Christopher pulled his fingers out. He lubed up his cock, positioning himself at Ezekiel's entrance. He pushed in slowly, his cock sliding into Ezekiel's tight, resistant hole. Ezekiel cried out, his body tensing, but Christopher didn't stop. He grabbed Ezekiel's hips, holding him still as he began to fuck him, setting a slow, punishing pace. Christopher leaned over Ezekiel, his chest pressing against his back. He grabbed Ezekiel's hair, pulling his head back, exposing his neck. He leaned down, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. "You feel so good, Ezekiel," he murmured, his voice thick with lust and dominance. "So tight, so warm. So mine." Ezekiel's body was rigid, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. Christopher could feel his body tensing, his internal muscles clenching around his cock, trying to push him out. But Christopher was relentless, his hips slapping against Ezekiel's ass, his cock filling him completely. "You're mine, Ezekiel," he growled, his hand wrapping around Ezekiel's throat, squeezing gently. "Every part of you belongs to me. Your body, your pain, your pleasure. All mine." Ezekiel's body trembled, his breaths coming in quick, strangled gasps. Christopher could feel his orgasm building, his body ready to explode. He thrust into Ezekiel, his hand squeezing Ezekiel's throat, cutting off his air. Ezekiel's body convulsed, his nails digging into the sheets as Christopher came, his cock pulsing, filling Ezekiel with his seed. He groaned, his body shuddering, his grip on Ezekiel's throat tightening slightly before releasing. Ezekiel collapsed onto the bed, his body limp, his breaths coming in slow, shuddering gasps. Christopher pulled out, his cock glistening with his cum and Ezekiel's blood. He collapsed onto the bed, pulling Ezekiel into his arms, his body still trembling with the aftershocks of his orgasm. He kissed Ezekiel's neck, his lips soft and gentle, a stark contrast to the brutality of his actions. "Good boy," he murmured, his voice filled with pride and possession. Ezekiel's body was relaxed, his eyes glazed over, his mind numb. He felt used, owned, and utterly dominated—which was exactly what he was.

Christopher plugs Ezekiel for the night, to keep his cum inside him. Then, he cuddles Ezekiel until Ezekiel falls asleep.

Christopher rolled off Ezekiel, his chest heaving with ragged breaths. He grabbed a towel from the nightstand, quickly wiping the cum and lube from his cock. Ezekiel lay limp, his body splayed out on the bed, his breath coming in soft, pained gasps. After dropping the towel to the floor, Christopher grabbed the lube and a fresh butt plug from the bedside drawer. He coated the plug generously, his eyes never leaving Ezekiel's battered form. Ezekiel's hole was gaping slightly, slick and red, a testament to the vigorous fucking he'd just endured. Christopher pressed the tip of the plug against Ezekiel's entrance, feeling his body tense at the cold touch. "Shh," he soothed, pushing the plug in slowly, inch by inch. He watched as it stretched Ezekiel, filling him completely. Ezekiel moaned, a sound of protest and resignation, but made no move to stop him. Christopher tapped the base of the plug, making it shift inside Ezekiel, eliciting a soft whimper. "Good boy," he murmured. "Keep my cum inside you. You're a good little omega, aren't you?" Ezekiel didn't respond, his body shaking slightly. Christopher cleaned his hands with another towel, then climbed back into bed, pulling Ezekiel into his arms. Ezekiel stiffened at first, then relaxed, his body molding to Christopher's. Christopher wrapped his arm around Ezekiel's waist, his hand resting on his hip, fingers grazing the base of the plug. He could feel the heat of Ezekiel's body, the rhythm of his breathing as it slowed and deepened. Christopher pressed a soft kiss to Ezekiel's shoulder, his lips lingering on the bruised skin. "You're mine, Ezekiel," he whispered, his voice a low rumble in the quiet room. "Every part of you. My good little omega." He felt Ezekiel shiver, his body pressing closer. Christopher held him tighter, his hand stroking Ezekiel's side gently, soothingly. He felt Ezekiel's body begin to relax, his muscles unclenching, his breath evening out. Christopher continued his soft touches, his lips brushing against Ezekiel's skin, his words a low, comforting murmurs. He felt Ezekiel's eyes flutter closed, his body sagging against him. Christopher smiled, a soft, content expression. He held Ezekiel close, his body a warm, secure cocoon. He felt Ezekiel's body go limp, his breath deep and steady. Christopher knew he was asleep, his mind finally at rest. Christopher pressed a soft kiss to Ezekiel's neck, his arm tightening around him. "Goodnight, my good little omega," he whispered, his voice filled with possessive affection. He held Ezekiel close, his body a shield, his presence a promise. He would keep Ezekiel safe, keep him his. And Ezekiel would keep Christopher's cum inside him, a constant reminder of who he belonged to.

The next morning, Ezekiel gets ready to go to campus. Christopher wants Ezekiel to wear a plug under his clothes, to make sure he remembers to come home on time. Ezekiel argues about it, which earns him punishment.

Ezekiel stirred, his body aching from the night's activities. He blinked away the remnants of sleep, his mind slowly registering the plug nestled inside him. He shifted, wincing slightly at the unfamiliar sensation. Christopher, already awake, watched him intently, reaching out to stop Ezekiel when his hands drifted to the plug, not allowing him to remove it. "Leave it in," Christopher said, his voice soft but brooking no arguments. "I think a day with your ass plugged might do you some good." "I have to wear it all day?" Ezekiel asked, his voice a mix of irritation and resignation. Christopher's lips twitched into a pleased, slight smile, a glint of amusement in his eyes. He reached out for Ezekiel, fingers tracing his hip bone. "Yes, you do. I want you to feel me with you all day. A constant reminder of who you belong to, something that might give you a reason to hurry home at night." Ezekiel sighed, sitting up and swinging his legs out of bed. "I have classes, Christopher. I can't walk around campus with a plug up my ass." Christopher's expression darkened, his voice taking on a stern edge. "You can and you will. You're mine, Ezekiel. Every part of you is mine to control. And I want you to feel that ownership with you all day." Ezekiel hesitated, his body tense. "But, Sir—" Christopher cut him off, his hand snapping out to grab Ezekiel's chin, forcing him to meet his gaze. "Don't argue with me, Ezekiel. You know what happens when you disobey." Ezekiel's eyes widened, fear flashing in their depths. He knew all too well the consequences of defying Christopher. His body remembered the sharp sting of the belt, the burning pain of the paddle, the humiliating spankings that left him sore and submissive. He swallowed hard, his body trembling slightly. Christopher released his chin, his hand moving to Ezekiel's hip, fingers digging in slightly. "Now, be a good boy and get ready. I want you to wear that plug all day, and if you do not..." He let the threat hang in the air, his eyes locked onto Ezekiel's. Ezekiel took a deep breath, his body shaking with a mix of fear and unwilling arousal. He knew better than to argue further. He nodded, his voice soft. "Yes, Sir." Christopher smiled, softening again. "Good boy," he murmured, his hand patting Ezekiel's hip before releasing him. Ezekiel stood, his body moving slowly as he made his way to the bathroom. He could feel the plug shifting inside him, a constant, humiliating reminder of Christopher's control. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the day ahead. He knew it would be a challenge, but he also knew he had no choice. He was Christopher's omega, and he would obey. As he stepped into the shower, the hot water hitting his skin, he could feel the plug shifting, sending waves of sensation through his body. He groaned softly, his hand braced against the wall. He was Christopher's good little omega, and he would do as he was told. No matter what.

Later, on the way home from school, Ezekiel's father calls him. Ezekiel's father is a traditional alpha, and he lectures Ezekiel on the importance of obeying his husband, which upsets Ezekiel.

The shower did little to wash away Ezekiel's humiliation, but it did wake him up, his senses heightened, his body throbbing with a mix of discomfort and arousal. The plug inside him was a constant, intrusive presence, shifting with every movement. He dressed quickly, avoiding his reflection in the mirror, knowing the sight of his bruised, marked body would only fuel his internal conflict. He slipped on a pair of loose jeans, the denim rubbing against his sensitive skin, and a simple t-shirt. He headed to the kitchen, the plug moving with each step, a brutal reminder of his place. Christopher was already there, pouring himself a cup of coffee, his back to Ezekiel. Ezekiel paused, taking a moment to study the man who controlled him so completely. Christopher's broad shoulders tapered down to a narrow waist, his body a testament to his strength and dominance. Ezekiel felt a familiar mix of fear and desire stir within him, his body betraying him, responding to the mere sight of his alpha. "Good morning," Ezekiel murmured, his voice soft. He should say more, he knew, but his mind was a whirl of confusion and humiliation. He wanted to argue, to fight, to rail against the unfairness of it all. But he also wanted to submit, to please, to earn Christopher's approval. Christopher turned, his eyes raking over Ezekiel, a smirk playing on his lips. "Morning, pet. Ready for your day?" Ezekiel nodded, his body tense. "Yes, Sir." Christopher's smirk widened, and he stepped closer, his hand reaching out to cup Ezekiel's jaw, his thumb brushing against his cheek. "Good boy. Now, remember, you're to wear the plug all day. No taking it out unless I say so. Understood?" Ezekiel swallowed hard, his body shivering under Christopher's touch. "Yes, Sir," he whispered. Christopher's hand dropped, and he stepped back, his eyes never leaving Ezekiel's. "Good. Now, go. Don't keep your professors waiting." Ezekiel turned, his body moving slowly as he made his way to the door, his backpack slung over his shoulder. He could feel the plug shifting with each step, a constant, humiliating reminder of Christopher's control. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the day ahead. As Ezekiel stepped into the hallway, leaving the apartment, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, his heart sinking as he saw his father's name flash across the screen. A traditional alpha, Ezekiel had grown up chafing against his father's control. It was only due to his father's control that Ezekiel was now married to an alpha. He certainly wouldn't have sought out the marriage on his own. Ezekiel hesitated, his thumb hovering over the accept button, but knew he couldn't ignore the call. He accepted it, putting the phone to his ear. "Hello, Father," he said, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside him. His father's voice boomed through the line, stern and disapproving. "Ezekiel, I've been thinking about our last conversation. I want to make sure you understand the importance of obeying your husband. As an omega, it's your duty to submit, to please, to—" Ezekiel's hand tightened around the phone, his knuckles turning white. He could feel the plug shifting inside him, a brutal reminder of just how much he was submitting, how much he was pleasing. But it wasn't enough, would never be enough for his father. He took a deep breath, trying to keep his voice steady. "I understand, Father," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. His father continued, oblivious to Ezekiel's inner turmoil. "Good. Because I won't have you disrespecting Christopher, or bringing shame upon our family. You're an omega, Ezekiel. Act like it. Submit, obey, please. That's your purpose. Your duty.” Ezekiel's body trembled, his eyes stinging with unshed tears. He could feel the plug inside him, a cruel, constant reminder of his submission, of his obedience. But it wasn't enough, would never be enough. He took a deep breath, his voice a soft whisper. "I will, Father. I promise." His father grunted, satisfaction clear in his voice. "See that you do. Now, I have to go. Remember, Ezekiel, obey. Submit. Please. That's your purpose." The line went dead, leaving Ezekiel standing in the doorway, his body shaking, his mind a whirl of confusion and humiliation. He took a deep breath, his hand reaching for the door handle, his body moving slowly, reluctantly. He had to go, had to face the day ahead. But he felt broken, torn, his body and mind at war. He stepped out into the bright sunlight, his eyes squeezing shut against the glare, his body tense, his mind a turmoil of conflicting emotions. The plug shifted inside him, a brutal reminder of his submission, of his obedience. And he hated it, hated himself for it, for needing it. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the day ahead, but as he walked away from the apartment building, he couldn't shake the feeling of dread that settled in the pit of his stomach. Today was going to be a long, humiliating day.

Can you continue the story a few weeks later? Ezekiel has been behaving, but he gets into a fight with an alpha on campus when the alpha tries to steal Ezekiel's bag. Ezekiel gets hit hard by the big alpha, but luckily security intervenes to stop him from being hurt too badly. Christopher is upset that Ezekiel tried to fight the alpha, believing Ezekiel could have been badly hurt.

--- The punishment worked, for a time. For the next few weeks, Ezekiel was careful to mind his alpha, never staying too late, submitting the bare minimum to avoid punishment. Yet, as usual, Ezekiel couldn't fully avoid trouble. Sitting in the campus security office, Ezekiel found himself nursing a bruised jaw, his cheek throbbing with each pulse of his heart. The campus security had intervened just in time, pulling the aggressive alpha off him before real damage could be done. But the encounter left him shaken, his adrenaline still pumping, his body aching. His backpack lay at his feet, the strap torn where the alpha had tried to yank it away. He sat in the waiting room, his head in his hands, trying to process the encounter. He knew he should have submitted, should have let the alpha steal his bag and what he wanted. But something primal had risen within him, a fierce protectiveness over his belongings. He had fought back, and now he was paying the price. Christopher's text message buzzed on his phone, his alpha's worry turning to anger as Ezekiel explained what had happened. He could almost hear Christopher's voice, stern and disapproving, "You should have submitted, Ezekiel. You know better than to fight an alpha." Ezekiel swallowed hard, his body tensing at the thought of Christopher's displeasure. He knew he had screwed up, knew he had defied the very instincts that kept him safe. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the confrontation that was sure to come. Christopher picked him up quickly, signing him out from the security officers, speaking with them for some time. They were too quiet for Ezekiel to make out their individual words, but he could guess what Christopher was asking. Clearly, Ezekiel's description of the event wasn't enough. Christopher needed to hear the alphas who worked campus security retell it. The idea made Ezekiel's face burn. Christopher drove Ezekiel home, silent but clearly displeased. Ezekiel watched Christopher's strong hands flexing against the steering wheel, gripping it tighter than was necessary. He could feel the warmth of a fresh bruise forming on his cheek, the sting of the alpha's fists echoing through his body. When they arrived at the apartment building, Christopher escorted him upstairs, a firm hand at his back. Inside, Christopher finally addressed him, arms crossing over his chest, his eyes narrowing in anger. "What were you thinking, Ezekiel?" he growled, his voice a low rumble. "You know better than to fight an alpha. You could have been seriously hurt." Ezekiel hesitated, his body trembling under Christopher's gaze. He knew he had screwed up, knew he had defied the very instincts that kept him safe. He took a deep breath, his voice soft. "I'm sorry, Sir. I didn't think—" Christopher cut him off, his hand reaching out to grab Ezekiel's chin, forcing him to meet his gaze. "No, you didn't think," he growled. "You let your instincts take over, and look where it got you. You're lucky security intervened when they did. Otherwise, you could be in the hospital right now." Ezekiel flinched, his body tense under Christopher's touch. He knew his alpha was right, knew he had been foolish, reckless. He took a deep breath, his voice a soft whisper. "I'm sorry, Sir. I won't do it again." Christopher's grip tightened, his thumb brushing against Ezekiel's bruised cheek. "You're damn right, you won't," he growled. "Because if you do, I'll make sure you regret it. Understood?" Ezekiel nodded, his body trembling. "Yes, Sir," he whispered. He could feel the anger radiating off Christopher, could feel the tension in his body, the barely leashed violence. He knew he had pushed his alpha too far, knew he was in for a punishment. He took a deep breath, his body tensing in anticipation. But before Christopher could speak, Ezekiel's phone buzzed again. He glanced down, his heart sinking as he saw his father's name flash across the screen. He hesitated, his thumb hovering over the accept button, but knew he couldn't ignore the call. Not now, not after what had happened. Christopher gestured for him to accept it and Ezekiel obeyed, putting the phone to his ear. "Hello, Father," he said, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside him. His father's voice boomed through the line, stern and disapproving. "Ezekiel, I've heard from Christopher. What were you thinking, fighting an alpha? You know better than that. You're an omega, for goodness' sake. Act like it." Ezekiel's hand tightened around the phone, his knuckles turning white. He took a deep breath, trying to keep his voice steady. "I'm sorry, Father," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. His father continued, oblivious to Ezekiel's inner turmoil. "Sorry isn't good enough, Ezekiel. You need to learn your place, understand your role. You're an omega. You submit, you obey, you please. That's your purpose. Your duty." Ezekiel's body trembled, his eyes stinging with unshed tears. He could feel the bruise on his cheek, a cruel, constant reminder of his defiance, of his stupidity. But it wasn't enough, would never be enough. He took a deep breath, his voice a soft whisper. "I will, Father. I promise." His father grunted, satisfaction clear in his voice. "See that you do. I have to go. But remember, Ezekiel, obey. Submit. That's your purpose. And if you can't do that, then I trust your husband will give you a reminder of just who you belong to. Be grateful for it." The line went dead, leaving Ezekiel standing before Christopher, his body shaking, his mind a whirl of confusion and humiliation. He had to face Christopher, had to face the consequences of his actions. But he felt broken, torn, his body and mind at war. He looked up, his eyes meeting Christopher's, his body tense, his mind a turmoil of conflicting emotions. He knew he was in for a punishment, knew he deserved it. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come.

Christopher begins by being gentle with Ezekiel, ultimately grateful that he's safe. Christopher kisses his omega and examines his bruise again before describing in detail how he will punish Ezekiel and why.

Christopher's stern expression softened as he looked at Ezekiel, his anger melting away as he took in the sight of his bruised and trembling omega. He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a gentler tone. "Come here, Ezekiel." Ezekiel hesitated for a moment before stepping into Christopher's embrace. Christopher's arms wrapped around him, pulling him close, his hand gently stroking Ezekiel's back. "You're safe now," Christopher murmured, his voice a soft rumble in his chest. "That's what matters." Ezekiel leaned into the touch, his body relaxing slightly, his tension easing. He felt Christopher's lips press against his forehead, a soft, gentle kiss that sent a shiver down his spine. Christopher's hand cupped his jaw, tilting his head up to meet his gaze. His thumb brushed against the bruise, his touch surprisingly tender. "Does it hurt?" Christopher asked, his voice soft. Ezekiel shook his head, his eyes meeting Christopher's. "Not too bad, Sir," he murmured. He felt Christopher's grip tighten slightly, his thumb pressing a bit harder against the bruise. He winced, a soft gasp escaping his lips. Christopher leaned in, his lips pressing against Ezekiel's, a deep, possessive kiss that left him breathless. When he pulled away, his eyes were insistent, his voice even but stern. "Good. Because I'm going to make sure you remember this day, Ezekiel. I'm going to make sure you understand the consequences of your actions." Ezekiel's body tensed, his breath hitching in his throat. He knew what was coming, knew he deserved it. But he also knew that, despite the pain, despite the humiliation, he craved it. He craved the reminder of his place, of his purpose. Christopher's voice was firm, his words clear, and precise. "You're going to bend over the bed, Ezekiel. And you're going to take your punishment like the good omega you are. You fought an alpha today. You defied your instincts, defied your nature. And you're going to be punished for it. Starting by taking those jeans and your underwear off, and bending over that bed, ass in the air, and putting your hands behind your head. I want that asshole nice and open for me. Now." Christopher's hand dropped, his body stepping back, his eyes never leaving Ezekiel's. "Now, Ezekiel. And remember, this is for your own good. This is to remind you of your place, of your purpose. This is to keep you safe. And while you will not enjoy this, it will leave you with no doubt of who you belong to. Of why you are an omega. Bend over the bed, Ezekiel. Present yourself to me, and let me make this discomforting reminder a little more permanent." Ezekiel took a deep breath, his body moving slowly, reluctantly, but obediently. He walked over to the bed, his hands trembling as he unbuttoned his jeans, pushing them down along with his underwear, leaving him exposed and vulnerable. He bent over the bed, his ass in the air, his hands behind his head, his body trembling with anticipation and fear. He could hear Christopher's footsteps behind him, could feel his presence, his dominance. And he knew, in that moment, that he was exactly where he belonged. He was exactly who he was meant to be. He was an omega. And he was ready to be punished.

Christopher roughly fingers Ezekiel's hole as Ezekiel whimpers and squirms in discomfort. Christopher tells Ezekiel that he's going to paddle his ass and then use the belt to spank his tight, pretty hole.

Christopher towered behind Ezekiel, his gaze roaming over the exposed, pale flesh, taking in every quiver and tremor. His hand descended sharply, landing with a stinging slap on Ezekiel's bare ass. The sound echoed through the room, and Ezekiel jerked forward, a sharp gasp escaping his lips. Christopher's fingers dug into the soft flesh, kneading and spreading it apart. Ezekiel whimpered, his body squirming in discomfort as Christopher roughly shoved a finger inside him. "You're so tight, Ezekiel," Christopher growled, his voice thick with dominance, colored with lust. "But you know what happens to naughty omegas who fight alphas, don't you?" He added another finger, scissoring them apart, stretching Ezekiel wide. Ezekiel bit back a cry, his body tensing as he tried to accommodate the intrusion. "Y-yes, Sir," he stammered, his voice shaking. "They get punished." Christopher leaned down, his breath hot on Ezekiel's ear. "That's right, they do. And you, Ezekiel, have been a very naughty omega today. So, you're going to take your punishment like the good little omega you are. First, I'm going to paddle your ass. It's such a pretty ass, Ezekiel, but it needs to be red and sore for you to learn your lesson." He straightened, his hand leaving Ezekiel's body. Ezekiel whimpered at the sudden emptiness, his body aching with a mix of pain and need. He heard the sound of a paddle being picked up, the leather smoothing against his skin as Christopher ran it down his spine. He tensed, his breath hitching in anticipation. Christopher's voice was a low rumble, dark and menacing. "And then, Ezekiel, I'm going to use my belt. I'm going to turn your pretty little hole red, too. So that every time you sit, every time you move, you'll remember who you belong to, who you are supposed to go to for protection. You'll remember your place, your purpose. You're an omega, Ezekiel. And you will remember that." Ezekiel's body went rigid, his breath catching in his throat. He knew what was coming, knew the pain and humiliation that awaited him. But he also knew that he deserved it. He took a deep breath, his voice a soft whisper. "Yes, Sir. I'm sorry." Christopher's hand descended in a flurry of swift, hard spanks, the paddle connecting with Ezekiel's ass with a sharp, stinging sound. Ezekiel cried out, his body jerking with each impact, his skin quickly turning a deep, fiery red. Tears stung his eyes, but he bit back his sobs, taking his punishment like the obedient omega he was becoming. Each slap of the paddle sent a jolt of pain through him.

Ezekiel cries from the paddling, and Christopher occasionally stops to grope his ass and remind him he's a small, weak omega who needs an Alpha to keep him out of trouble before continuing to paddle him. Christopher removes Ezekiel's plug and instructs him to spread his cheeks so Christopher can see his tight, pretty hole. Christopher comments on how pretty and pink his hole is, reminding Ezekiel it won't be pretty when he's done disciplining it. Christopher uses the belt to spank Ezekiel's hole.

Christopher's hand came down again, the paddle leaving a hot, harsh sting across Ezekiel's ass. Ezekiel cried out, his body bucking as he tried to absorb the pain. Tears streamed down his face, but he kept his hands behind his head, presenting himself like the good omega he was. Christopher paused, his hand running over the heated flesh, squeezing and kneading the sore muscle. "You're taking this so well, Ezekiel," he murmured, his voice a low rumble. "But you know why you're being punished, don't you? Because you're a small, weak omega who needs an alpha to keep you out of trouble." Ezekiel whimpered, his body tensing at the words. "Yes, Sir," he gasped, his voice shaking. "I'm sorry, Sir." Christopher's hand descended again, the paddle landing with a sharp smack. Ezekiel cried out, his body jerking forward, but he quickly pushed back, presenting himself again. Christopher continued, the paddle landing in a steady rhythm, each slap leaving a hot, stinging mark on Ezekiel's flesh. Finally, Christopher stopped, his hand running over the red, heated flesh. He gripped the base of the plug, slowly twisting it out. Ezekiel gasped, his body clenching around the intrusion as it slid out. Christopher threw the plug aside, his voice a low growl. "Spread your cheeks, Ezekiel. I want to see that pretty little hole of yours." Ezekiel hesitantly reached back, his fingers digging into the sore flesh of his ass, pulling his cheeks apart. He felt exposed, vulnerable, his body on full display. Christopher's fingers ran over his exposed hole, tracing the sensitive skin. "Look at that," Christopher murmured, his voice thick with lust. "Such a pretty, pink little hole. It's almost a shame to punish it. But you know what, Ezekiel? It's going to be even prettier when I'm done with it. It's going to be red and sore, a constant reminder of your place." Ezekiel whimpered, his body squirming at the words. He felt the cool leather of the belt trace over his exposed hole, and he tensed, his breath hitching in anticipation. Christopher's voice was a low growl, dark and menacing. "This is going to hurt, Ezekiel. But you're going to take it. You're going to take it because you're my omega, and you will please." The belt came down with a sharp, stinging crack, the leather connecting with Ezekiel's sensitive flesh. Ezekiel screamed, his body convulsing as a wave of pain washed over him. He gripped the blankets, his knuckles white as he tried to absorb the agony. Christopher's voice was a low rumble, his words a dark promise. "This is just what omegas like you need, Ezekiel, someone to pay attention to taming your little hole." The belt landed again with a sharp crack, the leather leaving a hot, harsh sting across Ezekiel's flesh.

Christopher tells Ezekiel that Omegas are connected through their holes, that the best way to get an omega's attention is to discipline his puckered entrance. He remarks that it seems to work for Ezekiel, since he began to behave so much better after being kept plugged. Christopher continues to spank Ezekiel's hole with the belt until Ezekiel's hole is sore, red, and swollen.

Christopher's voice dripped with a dark, possessive tone as he spoke, his breath hot on Ezekiel's exposed flesh. "Omegas are all the same, like their holes are a direct line to their brains. It's the best way to get an omega's attention, to make them understand who's in charge. A good, hard spanking right here," he tapped the belt gently against Ezekiel's twitching entrance, "and they fall in line. Look at you, Ezekiel. You've been behaving so much better since I sent you to campus plugged. It's a shame the effect wore off." Ezekiel whimpered, his body trembling at the reminder of the plug, the constant intrusion that had kept him on edge, reminding him of his place. "Yes, Sir," he gasped, his voice a ragged whisper, hoping agreement might earn him some mercy. "I've been trying to be good." Christopher chuckled, a low, menacing sound. "Trying isn't good enough, Ezekiel. You need to be good. And I'm going to make sure you are." He raised the belt, the leather cutting through the air with a sharp whistle before it connected with Ezekiel's sensitive hole. Ezekiel howled, his body convulsing as the pain exploded across his skin. The belt fell again, and again, each strike precise and unyielding, targeting the same tender spot. Ezekiel's body shook with sobs, his fingers gripping his cheeks tightly as he tried to absorb the agony, still holding himself open for his alpha. His hole clenched and unclenched, the muscle sore and tender from the relentless assault. Christopher paused, his hand running over the red, swollen flesh. "Look at that, Ezekiel," he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. "Your little hole is so red, so swollen. It's beautiful. It's a shame you can't see it, can't see how pretty you look when you're being punished. But you feel it, don't you? You feel every stinging lick of the belt, every reminder of your place." Ezekiel cried out, his body shuddering as the belt fell again. The pain was intense, a fiery blaze that consumed his senses. He took a deep, ragged breath, his voice a soft, desperate plea. "Yes, Sir. I feel it. I feel you."

Christopher painfully fingers Ezekiel's sore hole as he tells him that he's considering not allowing him to go back to school, since it seems dangerous. Ezekiel begs Christopher to let him keep going to school, promising he'll stay out of trouble. Christopher considers the issue and offers some solutions, all of which sound uncomfortable and humiliating to Ezekiel.

Christopher's fingers dug into Ezekiel's swollen flesh, probing mercilessly at his abused hole. Ezekiel gasped, his body tensing as a fresh wave of pain shot through him. Tears streamed down his face, mixing with the sweat that beaded on his skin. "Such a tender little hole you have, Ezekiel," Christopher murmured, his voice cold and calculating. "It's almost too easy to hurt you here. Makes me wonder if maybe I should just keep you at home, where I can keep an eye on you. School seems too dangerous for you. You're so small, so easily led astray. Who knows what trouble you might still get into?" Ezekiel's heart pounded in his chest, mind racing at the thought of being made to drop his degree. "No, Sir," he begged, his voice shaking. "Please, let me go to school. I promise I'll be good. I'll stay out of trouble." Christopher's voice turned warmer, still serious but now coated with concern "You promise, huh? And what makes you think I should believe you? You keep putting yourself in danger, Ezekiel. First the walking home after dark, now picking a fight... This sort of behavior usually means an omega needs a much tighter leash." Ezekiel's chest heaved, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "I know, Sir. I'm sorry, Sir. But please, I need to go to school. I can't... I can't just stay here all the time." His voice trailed off, his body trembling as Christopher's fingers continued their cruel exploration. "Hmm," Christopher murmured, his fingers finally withdrawing. Ezekiel let out a shaky breath, his body sagging slightly. But his relief was short-lived as Christopher spoke again. "Maybe there's a way we can come to an agreement. But it won't be easy for you, Ezekiel. Most omegas do not get such freedom. You'll have to earn your privilege to go to school." Ezekiel's heart pounded in his chest. "What do you mean, Sir?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper. Christopher's voice was cold, unyielding. "I mean, you'll have to prove to me that you're serious about behaving. That you're serious about pleasing me. And I have a few ideas about how you can do that." Ezekiel's body tensed, his mind racing. He knew whatever Christopher had in mind, it would be humiliating, uncomfortable. But he also knew he had no choice but to listen, to obey. "Yes, Sir," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "Tell me what I have to do." "First, you'll wear a plug to school. A big one, so you'll have assistance remembering to behave. It will be equipped with a tracking device, so I can keep tabs on you. And if you're a good boy, if you behave yourself, maybe I'll let you take it out when you get home. But if you misbehave... you can rest assured that the punishment will be severe." Ezekiel's eyes widened, his body shaking at the thought. A plug at school? Every day? The humiliation, the discomfort... it was almost too much to bear. But he knew he had no choice. He had to agree, had to obey. "Yes, Sir," he whispered, his voice shaking. "I'll do it. I'll wear the plug." "It's like I said," Christopher continued. "Omegas who put themselves in danger need a short leash. You'll have to let me check on you throughout the day. Make sure you're behaving, make sure you're pleasing me." Christopher's voice was a low growl, his words a dark promise.

Christopher tells Ezekiel that he will want photos of his plugged hole and caged cock throughout the day, to make sure he's behaving himself. Christopher also tells Ezekiel that he will be reaching out to his professors, who are all alphas, to discuss his behavior with them. Christopher will be letting Ezekiel's professors know of Ezekial's issues submitting and keeping himself safe, and the professors will be sending Christopher reports of any uncouth or disrespectful behavior.

Christopher leaned in, his voice a harsh whisper, "You'll send me pictures, Ezekiel. Throughout the day, I want to see that plug nice and snug in your hole. Make sure the light is good, so I can see every detail. I want to make sure you're behaving, that you're thinking of me every time you move, every time you sit down." Ezekiel's breath hitched, his body shaking at the thought of being monitored so intimately. "Y-Yes, Sir," he stammered, his voice barely audible. Christopher's pressed a kiss to Ezekiel's shoulder, taking a moment to consider. "And that's not all. I'll be in contact with your professors, speaking to them alpha to alpha. They'll be keeping an eye on you, making sure you're not causing any trouble. I'll tell them about your struggles with submission, your tendency to put yourself in danger. They'll send me reports if you misbehave, if you disrespect them. And if they do, Ezekiel, you know I will have no trouble handling it." Ezekiel's eyes widened in horror, face burning at the thought of Christopher discussing his behavior with his professors. Well-known professionals in his field, Ezekiel looked up to his professors. They were alphas, as most professors were, and it was true that they already knew Ezekiel was an omega, meaning they presumably knew he was disciplined, that he submitted to an alpha. Still, the idea of them acknowledging it was too much to bear.

Christopher stepped back, his eyes roaming over Ezekiel’s quivering body. "Arch your back, Ezekiel. Present yourself. Let's see that pretty little hole of yours all spread open for me." Ezekiel, trembling, complied, lifting his hips and spreading his knees wider. His face burned with shame as he felt the cool air on his exposed flesh, his body open and vulnerable. Christopher circled the bed, his gaze intense and predatory. "Such a beautiful sight," he murmured, running a hand over Ezekiel's raw, red ass, thumb pressing against his swollen hole. "You're just a silly, disobedient omega. You need to be reminded of your place." Ezekiel flinched at the stinging slap across his already tender flesh. "Yes, Sir," he whimpered, his body tensing in anticipation of more pain. Christopher didn't wait. He grabbed a bottle of lube from the nightstand, coating his fingers generously. "Let's see if we can loosen you up a bit more," he said, pressing a slick digit into Ezekiel's hole. Ezekiel gasped, his body involuntarily clenching around the intrusion. "You're so tight," Christopher growled, adding another finger. "It's almost like you're trying to resist me. Like you think you have a choice." Ezekiel’s breath hitched as Christopher’s fingers stretched him, the burn a stark reminder of his helplessness. "No, Sir," he choked out. "I don't have a choice. I'm yours." Christopher chuckled, a dark, mocking sound. "That's right, you are. And I'm going to use you however I want. Now be a good little omega and take it." He withdrew his fingers, replacing them with the thick head of his cock. Ezekiel braced himself, knowing the pain was inevitable. Christopher thrust forward, impaling him with a single, brutal stroke. Ezekiel cried out, his body convulsing as he was filled completely. "Fuck, you're tight," Christopher grunted, starting a punishing rhythm. Each thrust was hard and deep, driving Ezekiel further into the mattress. The room filled with the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, mixed with Ezekiel’s desperate gasps and Christopher’s harsh grunts. “Who do you belong to, Ezekiel?” Christopher demanded, slapping his thigh hard enough to sting. “You, Sir,” Ezekiel managed, tears streaming down his face. “I belong to you.” “That’s right,” Christopher growled, his pace unrelenting. “And you’re going to behave, aren’t you? For me.” “Yes, Sir,” Ezekiel sobbed, his body on fire, every nerve ending screaming in pain and pleasure. “I’ll behave. I promise.” Christopher’s fingers dug into Ezekiel’s hips, holding him in place as he pounded into him. “Good boy,” he panted, his voice thick with lust. “Remember this, Ezekiel. Every time you sit down, every time you move, you’ll think of me. You’ll think of this.” With a final, brutal thrust, he came, his body shaking with the force of his release. Ezekiel felt the hot spill of Christopher’s seed inside him, a stark reminder of his ownership.