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“Remember to scrape the dishes off in the sink before putting them in the dishwasher, Keiren. And don’t forget to run the garbage disposal afterwards. Oh, and also,”
James pauses to stare discerningly down the table at the little stray as he magnanimously explains how things are done, like Anders keeps asking him to. Seeing the mutt’s head snugly tucked inward, at first James thinks that the omega is lowering his gaze out of fear or respect, but then he tunes in to the soft clicking of buttons.
Oh.
It looks like the brat’s miracle run was over then.
Though he’d only ever made it this far because Anders and Claude were constantly running defense for him. It was really nothing to applaud. And all things must come to an end, as they say.
“Ah Keiren.” James plasters a smile on his face. “I’m confused. Are you playing a game while I’m talking to you?”
“Oh, yeah.” Keiren nods without looking up. “I’m kind of in the middle of a boss battle right now,” he replies distractedly. “Sorry, I’ll be done in a little bit. You’ll have to wait until then.”
“Hmm,” James hums contemplatively, his hands thrumming at his sides.
Over his lap, or over the table? Maybe the counter? It’s been a while since he’s spanked an omega. Actually, it’s been a while since he’s spanked anyone bare-handed at all. He's admittedly out of practice. Though James supposes he can just start with tucking him under his arm and figure things out from there, depending on how much he squirms.
“Keir’s still not used to eating with pack, Sir.”
Anders’ voice chimes in from the kitchen just as James is about to push his chair back. The beta quickly goes on to address the omega, his voice instantly softening in a way James has only been able to start hearing again since Keiren joined the pack. Anders used to speak like that to Mikey, though probably only when they were much younger. That gentle lilt, that patient guidance.
“Keir, you shouldn’t play games when the pack leader is talking to you,” Anders lightly cautions. "Actually," he hesitates, “maybe you should stop bringing your Switch to the table. You don’t want to get food on it, right?” his beta employs a placating tone to increase the probability of compliance.
It’s nice to hear Anders call him “the pack leader” like that- his position being something Anders had never acknowledged enough before. Though of course, “our pack leader” would be the more appropriate term. Or “our pack alpha”, he considers, but stops himself before he sinks too far into those desires.
Anyways, James has already finished his own plate, so there’s not much reason for him to stay any longer.
In the next beat, he cordially stands up from his chair, and, to his beta’s alarm, walks over to where Anders has just coaxed the gaming console out of Keiren’s hands and summarily proceeds to reach down and grab either side of the omega’s face.
Then, ignoring the prick of anxiety from his beta in the background, he pulls.
“Listen Keiren,” James relays with a tight calm as a jumble of unintelligible noises spurt out from below him. “Because I really don’t like saying things twice,” he warns coldly. Out of the corner of his eye he can sense Anders carefully watching him, but his beta knows better than to interfere right now, at least. He continues steadily, “When you finish eating, you will scrape off all the plates in the sink and put them in the dishwasher. Then, you will run the garbage disposal and wipe down the table and counter. Nod if you understand.”
After a moment of pause, the omega’s head weakly bobs up and down in acquiescence.
James slightly softens his grip.
“Good,” he states with more levity. “After that, I don’t care what you do. But make sure to greet Claude at the door when he comes home in an hour or so. And by ‘greet,’” he clarifies, “I mean bearing your neck like Anders taught you. Understood?” He waits for confirmation, and Keiren swiftly nods his head several times in succession.
Maybe the stray’s submissive instincts were alive inside him somewhere.
James releases his hold.
“Good,” he praises lightly, running a haphazard hand over the top of the omega’s head. “Then don’t disappoint me,” he finishes, his eyes now sweeping back over to his beta, who’s standing quite stiffly, staring at the wall like a statue.
Always so astute.
“W-wait,” Keiren asks while rubbing his cheeks, “are you leaving or something?” He sounds a bit petulant, but James’ attention is already drifting elsewhere.
“Yup,” he replies simply. “Anders and I are retiring to bed early tonight.” He cracks a smile as he leans into Anders’ line of sight. “Let’s get moving then, Anders.” He reaches out and grabs his betas’ shoulders, steering him in the direction of the hall. “Lead the way for me.”
“It’s like 7:30 though?”
The brat stares confusedly after them as Anders allows himself to be marched into the hall.
James leaves the question unanswered.
The omega’s naivety can be a bit endearing sometimes. And well, seeing the lengths Anders goes to protect it can be fun too.
“Kneel on the floor in front of the bed.”
James snaps and points once they enter their room. Anders gives him a circumspect glance at the orders, but prudently obeys.
“Yes Sir.”
He’d probably been expecting James to rip his clothes off and throw him against the wall, since James had rushed him here and all.
But that’s actually not what James has in mind this time.
he watches with approval as Anders sinks to the floor – his beta has always been pretty on his knees, even from the back. Taking it in, he gets a little distracted by the sight and has to remind himself that there’s more to do.
James walks over to the wardrobe to hang up his jacket, then begins unbuttoning the cuffs of his dress shirt before neatly rolling up the sleeves.
Once he’s done, he takes a seat on the bed in front of his kneeling beta, naturally keeping a widespread posture so that the bulge of his cock is positioned right at the center of Anders’ line of sight.
Not that Anders could miss it anyways.
James doesn’t move an inch as he watches the beta’s throat bobs up and down as he takes it in, his eyes darting from James’ crotch to the carpet a few times before he gets the nerve to make a move, hesitantly reaching for the hem of James’ trousers.
When he reaches the top button, James deftly catches his hands, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth at the look of confusion he gets in response.
“Hm, what are you doing Anders?” he queries, holding the betas wrists tightly in his grasp.
Anders’ eyes narrow as he likely begins to reassess the situation.
The beta seems to eventually settle on a more direct approach.
“Please tell me how you want me to service you, Sir,” he requests politely, bowing his head deeply in submission.
And James is an alpha. He does like those sorts of displays. And Anders certainly knows how to play him. However, it’s not going to work this time.
“Service me?” James repeats with a bored expression. “I could’ve just had you do that under the dining room table. No need to bring you all the way here.”
The lines of Anders’ face tighten.
“Sir…”
“Relax,” James sighs. “I’m mainly kidding. I know my beta is too much of a prude.” He lets go of Anders’ wrists, allowing the beta to retract them back to his sides.
Hm.
Part of him does want Anders on his cock right now, but he should probably steer them back to the main agenda. That bright idea he’d had earlier.
“You know Anders,” James starts, voice trailing. He lightly taps his fingers on his kneecap as he shares his thoughts. “That brat really needs a spanking. And I was about to give him one too, before a certain someone came in and interrupted me.”
Of course, as soon as he mentions the brat, Anders jumps in immediately. It's funny how quickly the facade drops once he has something to say.
“I think we should hold off on physically punishing Keir until he settles in more. He’s not ready for that.”
James peers down at him, betraying nothing.
“Sure Anders,” he nods understandingly. “I get that. The thing is though,” he brings his hands up to lightly pat his thighs. “There’s an empty space on my lap right now. It was supposed to be filled by a naughty omega,” he shrugs, “but I guess a naughty beta will do just as well.”
And that’s enough for Anders to catch on, evident in a subtle shift in his expression, quickly hidden.
“Then come on,” James prompts, grinning winsomely. “You’re in biiig trouble young man.”
“Young man?” Anders questions, sounding unimpressed as he climbs to his feet. “Sir, you do know my birthday comes before yours, right?” He says with the barest hint of sourness.
Ah, really, James sighs inwardly.
The idea that he would ever forget his beta’s birthday is insulting. Though he does like it when Anders’ sass breaks through his stony exterior like this.
Maybe they can keep it going.
“Well Anders,” James answers matter-of-factly, “being a Daddy isn’t about age.”
Anders’ eyes narrow in on him cautiously, likely sensing ill intent.
“Daddy?” he repeats warily.
“That’s me,” James affirms, not missing a beat. “Now bend over Daddy’s lap, young man. You’ve earned yourself a spanking.” He slaps his thighs again in invitation, smiling back unblinkingly.
Anders lets out a soft grunt of disgust before moving to undo the top button of his jeans.
“Ah, wait,” James stops him. “Don’t lower your pants. I want to do it for you.”
Anders is usually naked or has pants completely off for punishments. He probably hasn’t been punished over someone’s knees with his pants around his ankles since they were kids.
James remembers watching Anders get it in the classroom and from other alphas, but it had never been all that interesting. Anders was good at keeping a straight face even through beatings, so spankings had barely elicited a grimace from him. And back in those days, Anders really would just float away if you let him, his mind escaping to wherever it went when he stared out the window.
In short, his Anders was just too tough and strong for hand spankings to have the desired effect.
But well, a lot of things had changed since back then, and maybe Anders was overdue for a trip over his alpha’s knees.
Seeing his beta’s reactions right now is enough to convince him.
James delicately undoes Anders’ buttons and pulls his trousers down to his ankles as his beta stares past him with a determined blank expression. Deciding to try something new, he chooses to keep his briefs separate, tugging them down until they rest on Anders’ upper thighs, the fabric pulling tightly right below the cup of his beta’s bared bottom in a way that only accentuates the target once it’s laying out in front of him.
Despite how Anders tries to act like a slab stone as he lowers himself onto James’ lap, it’s impossible for him to hide his softness and warmth when his body is pressing down on his thighs like this. James can feel everything. The steady beating of his heart, the even rise and fall of his chest, tightly controlled.
Not for long.
“Do you have anything to say to Daddy before we begin?” James kindly asks when Anders is fully settled over his knees. “For instance, do you want to confess how naughty of a boy you’ve been?”
The tips of Anders’ ears go slightly pink.
“… Sir,” he bites out, the built-up tension bleeding out more and more.
“Come on, Anders,” James tsks in warning, lightly brushing his fingers over his ass. Nice and firm. “You don’t want Daddy to be upset with you, right?”
“I’d prefer being drowned to hearing you call yourself that again.”
“Op, there it is.” James feels a vicious grin spread across his face. “My beta’s disrespectful attitude is rearing its head again,” he laments, shaking his head as he reels his arm back. “Don’t worry though, Daddy has just the right medicine for that.”
James brings his palm down with a loud, satisfying thwack against Anders’ ass cheek, the sound soon followed by a soft hiss of air from Anders’ grit teeth.
Even Anders’ muscled buttock ripples a little on impact, and when James lifts his hand, he’s pleased to find a bright red handprint left underneath.
He gives Anders’ ass a few more experimental slaps, alternating between from cheek to cheek, the skin getting pinker and pinker.
Haha.
It’s nice to look at - he enjoys the little hitches in Anders’ breath too. James can’t help but think there’s room for improvement though.
“Hm,” he contemplates, drumming his fingers on Anders’ lower back. “The angle could be better. Raise your butt a little higher, will you Anders?”
Anders is noticeably quiet below him. It’s entertaining to imagine the scowl he might be making at his order while his face is hidden like this. But after a slight delay, his beta does as he’s told and lifts his hips higher in the air.
He’s also smart enough to not half-ass it. Which, well, gives James no room to nitpick, but that’s okay.
In his new position, it really does look like Anders is begging to be spanked.
James has to take a few seconds to appreciate the sight he’s been presented with before moving along.
“Okay Mister,” he starts, rubbing his hand along the already pinkened flesh. “Daddy is about to give you a thorough talking to with my hand.”
Anders cringes painfully at his words, though James can’t imagine why.
“Sir,” the beta squints back at him with dry suspicion, ruining the mood in a way James doesn't appreciate. “Have you been watching porn?”
James balks at the sudden accusation.
“What?" he gasps. "Of course not Anders. That kind of thing rots your brain,” he tsks, emphasizing the point with a lecturing finger to his temple, then clarifies, importantly, “I’ve been reading it.”
“Reading it,” Anders repeats dully.
“Since you brought the brat home,” James explains. “I look at it on my phone sometimes when he’s yapping.”
After all the earfuls he’d been getting about the differences between human and wolf discipline, he’d decided to look into the human perspective on spanking. And well, what he’d found had been interesting, though not all that helpful. James doesn’t think he can learn anything from the material, so he mainly just uses it as a way to distract him from his instincts whenever he’s tempted to pull the brat over his knees.
The stories don’t really inspire anything when it comes to the omega.
But they do spark some curiosities when it comes to his beta, from time to time.
Anders as a contrite schoolboy, squirming and kicking his legs on his lap, pleading for mercy and promising to be good. It’s a funny picture.
Though the image doesn’t really fit his Anders.
James knows it’d take a lot more than a spanking to push his beta that far over the edge, if that were even possible. And then begging is also just another layer of performance. You haven’t gotten very deep with Anders if he’s not cursing your name.
So maybe it’s the contrast between his starkly dignified Anders and the quickly capitulating schoolboy that piques James’ interest.
“Okay Mister,” James prefaces again, realizing he’s letting himself get distracted. “Daddy is going to give you thirty strikes,” he picks a random number, “and you’re going to thank me for each one, then ask, politely, for the next.”
“Yes Sir.”
And Anders replies a little too easily, always so quick to adapt. He doesn’t show much strain from holding himself up in position either.
Which means James is going to have to up the ante.
“Oh,” he stretches his lips in a slow smile, “no need to be so formal with Daddy. I think you know what to call me,” he pokes the skin of his lower back, “little boy.”
James brings his other hand down with a thunderous slap before Anders can fully react.
“And that’s one.”
He grins at the quick glare he receives as another hot, red handprint forms on Anders’ ass cheek.
“One,” James says again, studying the trembling of his beta’s clenched jaw, the flushing of his pallor. Yes, he’s got him right where he wants him. “Don’t tell me you forgot how to count.”
Anders really looks like he’s in pain as he pushes out his response.
“Thank you…” he drags out, clearly hating every syllable, before finally giving in with a defeated huff, “Daddy.”
It's quite satisfying to James' ears.
And when his beta obediently asks for another, he can do nothing but oblige.
Anders gets better at hiding his hatred of “Daddy” by the end of the session, but James is happy enough with the early reactions. Though he’s not quite done with his beta yet.
“You look pretty like that.”
James stares endearingly at the sight of his beta’s glowing red ass in the corner - Anders stands obediently where he puts him, his hands on his head with his legs a shoulder length apart.
And it is tempting to take him now, but James has other things to do first.
“Well,” he sighs, stepping back from the distraction and back into reality - his duty as an alpha and all that. “While you reflect, I’m going to go check on the brat to see if he’s followed my orders.” To be honest, James doesn’t have high hopes. “If the kitchen isn’t spic and span, maybe I’ll bring him up here to join you,” he comments as he turns towards the door, wondering if Claude is back by now or not.
“James.”
Anders calls out to him from the corner, and James' hand stops right before it reaches the door, hovering in the air.
“Please go easy on him.”
The beta's voice comes in a hushed tone, still facing the wall.
In school, the corner had definitely had a no talking rule, but James guesses he hadn’t exactly specified that yet for their pack.
“Keir is new to this,” Anders continues quietly. His pleading is more genuine than it had been when he’d been over his knees, though of course it would be. “He’s not going to be able to cook and clean as well as me right away.”
James lets out a dry laugh at that. As if he’d ever had such high expectations.
“Really,” he explains with a waved hand, “I just thought you might get lonely.” he reaches for the door after a pause. “But okay, fine,” he agrees before Anders can ask again. “I’ll be good for you.”
The brat does an okay job. He misses a few spots on the counters and table, and there’re some crumbs on the floor, but he hasn’t made any egregious errors.
James finishes the job properly while he’s there, joined by a beaming Claude a few minutes later.
Claude comes to report to him on work and his omega, and it sounds like the brat had finally managed to bare his neck for his alpha. Though well, Claude is likely overly praising the omega’s performance or leaving things out. Or maybe he’s just delusional, as alphas can sometimes be when it comes to their omegas.
James stops by the living room to ruffle the brat’s head, where he’s snoozing on the couch, his noisy little device still clutched in his hands.
Another successful day on the run, huh? One day the brat’s behavior was going to catch up to him, but James guesses he gets to live in ignorance a little longer.
Maybe James should nip it in the bud right now. But letting it go means he gets to return to his prior engagement a little sooner, so he puts it off yet again.
“Turn around.”
James orders right as he steps through the door.
Anders is right how he left him, standing in the corner like a good little boy. His ass is still red and glowing, covered in his marks, and James wonders if it smarts and stings like he’s heard it does.
“Did I say you could take your hands off your head?” James chastises, clicking his tongue when Anders attempts to cover himself before facing forward.
A strange move to make when the scent was already so thick, but his beta’s little sparks of pride are always interesting.
“Really,” James lectures without much heart, shaking his head. “You were supposed to be reflecting, but here I find you like this? Just what were you thinking about in the corner, Anders?”
James’ eyes gleam as he stares down at little Anders’ full salute, jutting out towards him as Anders obediently keeps his hands on his head, biting his lip to distract from his scrutiny. His blushing cheeks now match on both ends.
“Ah,” James sighs, rolling his shoulders. “And everyone always acts like I’m the naughty one. But I know the truth – no one is as naughty as you.”
James begins unbuttoning his dress shirt, working from the top.
“I guess you’re lucky you have such an indulgent alpha,” he grins, letting his clothes drop to the floor in a rare occasion. “Lay down, Anders,” he gestures to the bed over his shoulder. “Alpha will service you. Just tell me how you want it.”