“Heh….you’re really stuck, tight, huh? Like a sausage trapped in its casing.”
“Ha ha,” Rhys deadpanned, ignoring the way his spine tingled at the brush of Jack’s fingers, “now help me get out of here.”
Jack responded by trying to wiggle the very tip of his finger between the vent and Rhys’ flesh. The omega heard him whistle at the snug fit.
“Hot damn. So frikkin’ tight.” Jack moved his finger teasingly, almost like he was trying to tickle Rhys, which snapped the omega’s nerves.
“Jack!” Rhys snarled, kicking out blindly behind him, his heels scraping against the steel floor of Jack’s office as he struggled to dislodge himself. “I’m going to fucking kill you when I get out of here!”
“If.”
Rhys’ hair stood cold on the back.
“W…What do you mean, if?”
“You heard me.”
God this monster is finally done. I’ve been working on this since like the end of August and it’s nice to have it out!
Set in the same Rival CEOs AU as this fic! Rhys gets stuck in a vent, and Jack takes advantage of it.
Major dub/noncon warning as well as one for humiliation….please don’t read this if you don’t want to see that kind of content!
Rhys had to admit, Jack had a nice view.
That was just about the only thing he would concede that the alpha had better than him. Sure, Atlas’ terran bases were fancy and skillfully designed, but he knew that even his slickest eco-domes and cliffside offices couldn’t compare with the massive, floor to ceiling view of the moon that had been stubbornly grafted into the side of the space station.
Maybe after he soundly crushed Hyperion next quarter, Atlas would be able to start construction on its own palatial satellite. Rhys was thinking three-hundred and sixty degree windows and an orbit parked right around Eden-6, to really make Jack steam.
After all, heat was certainly something Rhys craved, something that he missed whenever he and Jack were apart for so long.
He really liked letting the alpha stew, working him up and teasing him until he snapped into that delicious, violent passion that Rhys loved to indulge like a decadent pint of chocolate ice cream. He was about ready to play with Jack some more as they made to sit down and formally begin their rather informal meeting, when suddenly Jack’s ECHO blared a jarring noise that Rhys had never heard come from devices like it before. And suddenly it was like Rhys didn’t exist—Jack’s features went hard and cold in a way that was so unlike the usual malicious mirth that twisted across his face—as the CEO stood up abruptly and kicked his chair away, practically racing out of the room and leaving Rhys behind with nary a goodbye or a don’t touch anything or I’ll kill you.
He was left completely alone with only the background whirr of the station around him, half out of his chair as he stared out of the door that had just slid shut behind Jack’s warpath.
Rhys stalled, taking a long look around him. He knew Jack had his office bugged and monitored top to bottom, a fact that suggested he’d been duped into some kind of trap, or one of Jack’s sick games that he constantly changed up in an attempt to get a reaction out of the omega. Rhys rose to his feet, expectantly waiting for the hammer to drop, for Jack to unleash whatever immature plot he had in mind to make Rhys cower.
1….2…3……4…
Rhys counted in his head, pacing in bored little circles as time stretched on. Nothing. He furrowed his brows and tapped his foot, as if the incessant noise would somehow summon Jack to him. Still nothing.
Rhys looked from the door, to Jack’s desk, and back to the door. An evil little smile flitted across his lips as he practically danced over to the alpha’s abandoned chair, his lanky body nearly sinking into its large seat as he rolled it close to the desk. He adjusted the back of the chair straight up, changing the angle abruptly from Jack’s usual slouch.
He practically glowed with glee when he saw that Jack had left his personal interface open. Any private Hyperion dealings would most likely be locked to him unless he jacked in and did some serious decrypting, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t have a little bit of fun screwing around with Jack’s personal files.
And Rhys did mean personal.
The entire folder called “me-sexy” was quickly copied and sent to Rhys’ own address, his ECHOeye pinging as hundreds of salacious selfies and mirror shots were downloaded. Rhys especially enjoyed the one where Jack had a bright yellow ball-gag in his mouth and a cute pink blush, wondering how Jack would feel if that picture ended up in the inbox of every high level Hyperion employee on the space station.
Rhys soon downgraded to some more petty things—rearranging the papers on Jack’s desk, randomizing the files on his computer, changing his screensaver to a singing Claptrap advert and scratching “Atlas > Hyperion” on one of the desk drawers—until he heard the sound of the fast travel activating from beyond the closed door, followed by a rough, loud shout. The omega froze, eyes wide.
It was Jack.
Jack sounded angry.
And Rhys had just ransacked and vandalized his desk.
The omega jumped out of his seat, looking around the room as Jack’s furious grumbling and kicking feet grew closer, brain racing as he tried to figure out what to do.
Sometimes, Rhys panicked. And when Rhys panicked, he tended to do very, very, stupid things.
So instead of trying to play off what he’d been looking for, or come up with a slick excuse, he decided to hide. And in his frenetic state, he’d decided to dive for a small opening in the wall parallel to Jack’s desk.
He’d made it about halfway, when suddenly he realized something was wrong. The vent had looked way bigger than it actually felt. He’d been able to wedge his shoulders and upper torso through the frame, but as soon as it had passed his waist and onto his hips it seemingly cinched around him, clinging tightly around him and holding him snugly in place.
Rhys let out a small, concerned huff as he suddenly found himself stuck, his hips jammed tightly against the solid frame of the vent. He didn’t have enough strength to push back and both his flesh and cybernetic hand could barely get enough friction on the bottom panel of the shaft to muster any kind of leverage. His metallic fingers slid uselessly, the skin of his other palm far too sweaty to provide any help. He grunted, trying to grind the heels of his boots against the slick floors of Jack’s office in a last ditch attempt to pop his body back out of the shaft with enough recovery time to pull his clothes back into order and fix the unruly fall of his hair before Jack finished walking in.
The heavy stomp of frustrated shoes, however, told him it was quickly growing far too late for that.
Rhys winced as the sound of footsteps slowed, their weight fading into something softer, more curious. Like someone testing out a ring of thin, pale ice before they decide to venture out. Eventually, the sounds stop all together, and Rhys holds his breath.
“Well well we-heh-well…what have we got here?” A chill dripped down the bend of Rhys’ spine, making him shudder.
“W….What does it look like, jerk-off?” Rhys snapped, rocking his body pointedly.
“It….it looks like, for whatever reason you had in your empty little head, you’re trying to make a quick escape through one of my air vents…” He could practically hear Jack mockingly stroke his chin, like a detective in a vintage mystery movie.
“But what possible motive might you have to hide, pumpkin? I leave you alone in my office, and I come back to you trying to escape….that leads to people making assumptions about your motives…”
“Maybe I just wanted to get away from you and the prospect of this boring-ass meeting,” Rhys replied dryly, trying to sound tough even in the face of his humiliating predicament. He wiggled once more, determined to unstick himself out of this situation, but to no avail—he earned little more than a deriding snicker from Jack as the alpha crouched down next to his helpless body.
Rhys could feel Jack’s fingers trail along the line where his body was wedged inside of the metal vent.
“Heh….you’re really stuck, tight, huh? Like a sausage trapped in its casing.”
“Ha ha,” Rhys deadpanned, ignoring the way his spine tingled at the brush of Jack’s fingers, “now help me get out of here.”
Jack responded by trying to wiggle the very tip of his finger between the vent and Rhys’ flesh. The omega heard him whistle at the snug fit.
“Hot damn. So frikkin’ tight.” Jack moved his finger teasingly, almost like he was trying to tickle Rhys, which snapped the omega’s nerves.
“Jack!” Rhys snarled, kicking out blindly behind him, his heels scraping against the steel floor of Jack’s office as he struggled to dislodge himself. “I’m going to fucking kill you when I get out of here!”
“If.”
Rhys’ hair stood cold on the back.
“W…What do you mean, if?”
“You heard me.”
“V….Very funny, you dick,” Rhys snapped, trying to push away the feelings of unease starting to swirl in his middle, “if you know what’s good for you you’ll get me out, unless you want Atlas to shoot your little satellite out of the fuckin’ sky.”
He heard Jack murmur something unintelligible.
“What was that?”
“I said, how’d you even get stuck in there anyway? Like….what was even going through that lil’ brain of yours, sweetie?”
“Don’t treat me like I’m stupid, Jack. Remember who almost made you blow your top at the trade summit? You were about ready to throw a fucking tantrum.”
“I guess this is some kind of karmic revenge then, huh? Lucky me, the universe just goes ahead and takes care of my grudges for me. Here I was planning to tear your pretty clothes and screw you against my window until you cried, but…this is a lot more entertaining.”
“Not in my book,” Rhys huffed, “believe it or not, I’d much rather be letting you fuck me raw than being stuck here.”
“Mmm, well let’s not count that out, now.” Jack’s hands smoothed over Rhys’ stuck hips, rubbing them as if they were fruit blossoming on the verge of ripeness.
“Huh, you’re a little rounder than I remember you being….heh, maybe that’s why you can’t shimmy yourself outta there.”
Rhys flushed, suddenly self conscious of the way his soft belly was pressing into the bottom of the vent. His abdomen fluttered as he sucked it in. He…he hadn’t really gained that much weight, had he? Sure, he’d been stressed about a couple key planetary stakes Atlas had been trying to lay claim to, lately, and maybe he’d been hitting the double-chocolate mocha fudge a little hard these days. But surely it couldn’t have been so much as to actually contribute to him getting stuck in the stupid vent, right?
He flinched as Jack slapped his palm against Rhys’ side.
“Oh! Don’t tell me, you went and got yourself pregnant, did you sugar? That’s it, you’re getting all fat on some dumbass alpha’s pup, huh?
“N-No! I’m not…I’m not pregnant! As a matter of fact I’m cycling completely normally!”
“Haha. Gross.”
“Real mature Jack. Real mature,” Rhys grunted, banging his palm against the echoing metal of the vent,” now get me out of here?”
He could hear Jack humming behind him.
“Yeaaaahhh….nope.”
Rhys’ blood went cold.
“What…what do you mean, ‘nope’?”
“Nope. Nuh-uh. Not gonna happen. That clear enough for your lil’ brain?”
“You…you can’t just leave me here!”
“Why not? You were the one snooping around my office, kitten. Looking into stuff you shouldn’t be. As far as I’m concerned, that’s enough license to let you suffer for a bit.”
“You..you have got to be kidding me,” Rhys snarled, fury rising up in his chest, “Atlas will not stand for this, Jack!”
“Aw, you’re cute, what’re you gonna do? You can’t play around your little palm pad in here, sugar, not anymore,” Jack cackled as Rhys glared grimly at his metallic hand. Just to double check, he tried accessing the ECHOnet, only to find his permissions had been denied. Fuck.
Jack’s laughed cawed behind him, as if he could sense Rhys’ actions. Anger flared up in him at the alpha’s mirth and he again kicked out behind him, desperately wanting to connect his heel with the alpha’s balls.
“Stop it Jack! This—this isn’t funny!”
“Oh no, oh no no no no, Rhysie. Believe me. I’m a guy who knows funny. And this? This is god-damn frikkin’ hilarious.”
Rhys felt unease spike up his spine at Jack’s words, again spurring his need to escape. He pressed his palms flat against the surface of the vent in front of him, straining as he tried to push himself out from where his body was snugly wedged in the steel frame. He could hear the scrape of his heels underneath Jack’s mad laughter, the alpha clearly enjoying how much he was struggling to escape.
His embarrassment grew a tinge of fear as he fully realized how he might look to Jack—predatory alpha that he was.
Sure, they fought. Quite often, They challenged each other in a clash to see who could force the other into submission first. That was fine—Rhys was used to that, but usually he at least had a chance to defend himself, to try to win.
Right now, he was completely vulnerable, and could do absolutely nothing about it.
He tried valiantly to calm his breathing, to bring back that sharp cunning and problem-solving that he’d become well known for. He tried to think of a plan, or something he could say to Jack to convince him to let him out, but as he chased his thoughts in circles he could find the only true solution was to let Jack tire out his fun and hope against all hope that the alpha could find a shred of mercy somewhere inside him for his on-again-off-again foe.
“So…” Jack’s dark tone returned, this time poisoned with something sweet and greedy, “what were you saying about how you’d rather me be screwing you raw?”
Hands smoothed to where his pants had ridden down his body, unable to push through the frame like his flesh had.
“J-Jack….stop…” Rhys whined as he felt the alpha’s hands deftly undo the buckle of his belt, pulling the leather completely out of the loops. Rhys heard it clank against the floor as his waistband loosened. Jack’s hands returned, popping the button on his fly and pulling down the zipper. Rhys trembled, feeling the brush of the fabric as his pants fell slowly down his hips.
“Hmm, you’re so cute,” Jack whispered as he pulled Rhys’ pants down his thighs, letting them pool around his knees. Rhys shivered. The air conditioning swirling around Jack’s office contrasted sharply with the humid space inside of the vent, the air increasingly stifled with Rhys’ wet, anxious breathing. The skin on his ass and thighs prickled in their bare state, twitching as Jack placed both firm hands right on Rhys’ round cheeks.
“You know, I just got this lube imported from Narcissus like, yesterday,” Jack’s voice was eager, amused, “I haven’t even used it to jerk myself off yet. Was gonna fuck the hot new Maliwan ambassador after our meeting before things went tits up, but as sexy as she is I’d much rather break it in with you.”
Rhys heard the pop of a cap, followed by the long, drawn out squeeze of the tube. The sounds sent a confusing mixture of fear and arousal right to his groin, his cock twitching and bobbing in the air.
“Ah! There we go, a sign of life, finally,” Jack chided. Slick fingers unexpectedly stroked along his length, tickling towards his sensitive head and making Rhys gasp.
“Still so sensitive, even when squeezed like toothpaste.” Jack sounded as giddy as a child as he pinched at Rhys’ cock, before his slick fingers returning to stroke a teasing curve around Rhys’ twitching cheeks.
“J-Jack…” Rhys eked out, trying submission as a last resort, “please….just….get me out…please…”
“Awww, easy, easy, sugar, it’s gonna be alright,” Jack’s voice was liquid with fake concern, “daddy’s got you, ‘kay? He’s gonna make you feel so good.”
The fingers pushed between his cheeks, sliding directly towards the omega’s hole like it was drawn by a magnet. Rhys trembled, letting out a soft cry as the alpha’s fingers breached his insides, sinking up to the first knuckle straight-away.
Rhys’ hands fisted uselessly as Jack’s fingers probed deeper inside of him. Rhys didn’t remember them being nearly this thick. Two fingers in his ass felt like the cocks of some lesser alphas and betas that he’d slept with over the years. It nearly felt like back in college, when Vaughn agreed to fuck him through his heats, only without the encouraging words and comforting presence.
He bit his lip tightly, staunchly denying Jack any pleasure he might draw from Rhys whining and moaning like some breeding bitch. He could feel his teeth scrape down against the tender skin, his canines pricking against his lips and popping little beads of blood. He tried to comfort himself with the knowledge that Jack at least couldn’t see how hard he had to try to not cry out.
Fuck him and his stupid fingers. Rhys’ breath whistled harshly through his nose as said fingers wiggled insistently inside of him.
“C’mon, c’mon…gimme something to go on, kiddo…goin’ on a treasure hunt…” Jack hummed, singsong, as he curled his fingers. Rhys felt the tip brush up against the sensitive spot inside of him, sending a jolt of pleasure through his body that he could not suppress.
“X marks the spot.”
Jack’s fingertips continued to rub right up against his prostate, and Rhys couldn’t keep it in anymore. A tight, reedy moan burst past his lips, sending conceding flecks of blood and spit down onto the vent below him.
“Theeeeeere we go, that’s it, kiddo. See? This whole thing will go by a lot quicker if you give in. If you relax, then well, the time will just fly by.”
He felt Jack’s other hand grip his thigh, pulling his leg off to the side and spreading his ass further. Rhys cringed, his cheeks opened so he could no longer clench valiantly to stop the embarrassing amount of slick from leaking out of him. He could almost feel it splatter against the floor as it dripped off his thighs, every drop a knock against the last bit of pride he was desperately clinging to.
Rhys could hear the muffled jingle of Jack’s own pants, sending a sick tingle through his trapped body. He felt the warmth of Jack’s cock moments before it slid between his spread cheeks, pressing indomitably towards his hapless entrance.
Rhys whimpered, unable to stop Jack from pushing into him, the familiar fat head of his cock shoving deep inside of him without further preamble.
It’d been awhile since Jack properly fucked him. Last time they’d been together, Rhys had managed to wrestle the alpha into submission and bury himself deep down Jack’s throat, and the time before Jack had milked himself all over Rhys’ bloody, bruised face.
The last proper time had probably been the trade summit. Rhys had nearly torn out Jack’s throat over exclusive rights to mining on the southern pole of Rhea, and in retaliation the alpha had pounded him mercilessly up against the glass overlooking the Tauri star system.
Point being, he was tight. He squeezed involuntarily around Jack’s cock, his breathing hoarse as Jack struggled to push all the way into him, his insides catching against the thick shaft of his dick. Jack’s palm slapped against the wall above the vent, sending a rattling vibration all around Rhys’ trapped torso.
“Oooof, it really has been awhile, hasn’t it pumpkin?” Jack chuckled, nails scraping against the wall “…Nothing I can’t take care of, though.”
Rhys moaned as Jack pulled almost all the way out, before thrusting in hard, his balls bouncing off of Rhys’ ass and making the omega’s body arch. Rhys’ heeled boots ground into the floor, his fingers scrabbling against the bottom of the vent as the alpha railed into his hapless ass.
Jack fucked him at their usual, animalistic pace, with little care for how tightly and uncomfortably the omega was jammed inside of the vent, rocking his bulging flesh against the unyielding steel.
Rhys shut his eyes tight, drool dripping down his lips as he valiantly tried to focus on the uncontrollable pleasure throbbing in his lower belly, rather than the undeniable reality of who was forcing it upon him. His cock was stiff, the sensation of his own pre-cum beading at the tip and flicking on the floor with every harsh thrust sending shivers through his tense body.
Rhys’ skin prickled as Jack’s hand slid along his taint, brushing against the soft, sensitive skin. Rhys clamped his teeth around a moan, up until the point where Jack tickled the underside of his balls and it spilled from his lips in a gasp.
“Bit of a shame I can’t see your desperate little expression as I fuck you raw, kitten, but you still make a great cum-dump.”
Rhys had hoped Jack wouldn’t want to spill inside of him. He was already so tightly lodged inside of the vent that he felt anything additional inside of him would cement him inside. Even Jack’s thrusts only wedged him tighter and tighter inside of the vent, the flesh of his hips protesting as they were squeezed against the unyielding metal, friction greased only slightly by the sweat beading on Rhys’ skin.
“J-Jack…” Rhys croaked, body shivering as another thrust landed home deep inside of him, “please, I….please don’t…cum…don’t cum inside…”
“What was that, kiddo?” Jack answered derisively, slapping Rhys’ ass as he yanked his dick out and plunged back in, “I can’t hear you! You’re gonna have to speak up!”
“Ah—please! Please don’t cum inside it’s, it’s too…please…” Rhys cried, though he knew he was being played. Jack had him helpless in the palm of his hand, working him up and make him plead for leniency he already knew was not coming.
“Pfft…kiddo, you’re hardly in a position to be making demands, here,” Jack sneered, punctuating his point with a rough thrust that made Rhys’ spine curl.
The young omega was panting through clenched teeth by the time he was finally forced to come, his hips bouncing back against Jack’s cock as his own throbs and spurts against the metal floor. A cry managed to scrape past his teeth as the alpha continued to fuck him, his oversensitive skin crawling against the now-warm steel of the vent frame as Jack’s cock finally jerked and twitched deep inside of him as the alpha nailed his final thrust home.
Rhys whimpered as he felt Jack’s cum throb further and further inside of him, making his middle swell uncomfortable and tender against the tight confines of the vent. His brain told him he was on the best birth control a ridiculous amount of money could buy, and yet that familiar twinge of worry spiked across his brain at the feeling of seed settling deep inside of him. He squirmed, fingers twitching as Jack continued to slap his hips against his ass, eventually slowing his pace as the burst of his cum slowly dried to a trickle.
“Phew….close one. Almost knotted you there, pumpkin. Not that I don’t miss it, but I don’t wanna be stuck to a wall for the next hour, y’know? Heh. Of course you know.”
Jack pulled out of him with a quick, liquid pop, leaving hot cum gushing from his slack, quivering hole. The Atlas CEO whimpered, trying to clench his ass to no avail as he felt a treacherous dribble of cum slid down his thigh. He cried out as broad fingers pushed into his ass, scissoring his tight muscles open despite his best efforts and letting more of Jack’s release spill out in an undeniably obscene way over his ass.
“Lookit you. Messy little Atlas whore. My little whore.” Jack hooked his finger against Rhys’ quivering hole, yanking slightly. Rhys hissed softly, tears dripping down his cheeks.
“Think I’ve won this round, huh?”
The omega didn’t bother to respond, hanging limp around the frame still holding him in place. Jack didn’t need words—Rhys’ disgust was palpable, his silence speaking to his shame.
The omega’s heart jumped as he heard the sound of the lube cap popping off once more, but he had little energy left in him to struggle.
“Jack…” Rhys rasped, “please…leave me alone…”
Jack didn’t reply. Rhys could still hear the rustle of his clothing, the slight vibration as Jack presumably again sunk to his knees behind him. Rhys continued to lay limp. A small, defeated sniffle echoed throughout the empty vent as he tried his best to relax the muscles in his ass and thighs.
But Jack’s hands didn’t roughly squeeze his ass, they didn’t forcibly spread apart his thighs, nor did they try to guide his cock back towards Rhys’ hole. Instead, Rhys felt them brush against his side, where his shirt and vest had rucked up towards his chest, until they met the seam between Rhys’ sweaty flesh and the hard frame of the vent. Jack’s slick fingers probed between skin and steel, greasing them up. Rhys held his breath, eyes widening as Jack grabbed his hips in a bear-hug, suddenly yanking back.
“H-Hold on, Jack, wait, that h-hur—“
Rhys screeched in alarm as his flesh briefly ground against the vent, his skin squeaking in a pitch to match his voice as Jack tugged him back with all his alpha-endowed strength. Rhys shut his eyes, convinced that Jack would rip him in half, when suddenly he shifted. With a harsh grunt, Jack yanked him free of the clutches of the vent, holding the gasping, half naked omega aloft.
Rhys nearly cried with relief, relaxing back into the big strong arms of the alpha for a brief moment before he realized what he was doing. Even then, he didn’t struggle much, merely hanging in Jack’s arms as he tried to muster a glare over his shoulder at him.
“Aw, don’t you look at your hero like that, pumpkin.”
Rhys barely had the energy to spit back a retort at the alpha, who insisted on keeping a hold on him for a couple more seconds before, thankfully, setting Rhys back down against the ground. Or perhaps not thankfully, considering his sudden realization of the post-sex weakness of his body.
Rhys’ felt his legs trembling, discarded pants chaining his ankles together as he tried to steady himself. He leaned back against Jack’s firm bulk, tolerating even the way the alpha’s hands clasped loosely over his stomach with the weight of his relief. Cum still dripped down his legs, lube greasy and shiny around his waist as he struggled to pull his pants up, to hide himself from Jack’s leering eyes—the alpha had already gotten way too much of his naked body today.
Not that that stopped Jack from ogling him as he struggled to pull his clothes back on, triumphantly holding a bright gold tube like he was posing for a photo.
“Guess I didn’t tell you that lube was multi-purpose, huh?”
TheSpaceCoyote 