Submit to the Music - A Machine Gun Kelly, Oli Sykes, and Travis Barker Omegaverse Story

by Flowerpeaches

Summary:

Cole was a brat. An insecure, needy brat who hurt people with his careless words. What he needed was a firm, guiding hand. He needed to be given boundaries, and consequences for when those boundaries were broken. He needed someone who cared enough about him to punish him. To praise him.
And because Cole was stubborn and guarded, he’d do best in a relationship where he could see an example of what a well-loved omega acted like.
He needed someone like Oliver to show him what he could feel like. He needed someone like Travis to guide him there.
But would Cole submit?

Notes:

This story is inspired by the music video for maybe feat. Bring Me The Horizon - Machine Gun Kelly (with Travis Barker on drums). Specifically, minute 1:21 of the official music video when Oli glances to his left (toward MGK) and sings "I don't want to spend another day looking for someone that I know I can't replace."

Chapter 1

Cole’s spiky pink hair made a swirl as he spun on his chair. His long metal earrings jingled as he stared at the ceiling. “It’s like some days I just want to slit my wrists, you know?”

“Uh huh,” Travis said.

“Wish you would,” Oliver mumbled at the same time he strummed a chord, probably hoping Travis wouldn’t hear what he’d said. As if Travis wasn’t attuned to Oliver’s every melodic, accented utterance.

Oliver’s cheeks heated, but he didn’t look at his alpha. He hid behind the curtain of his long curly brown hair, but Oliver’s sheepish expression told Travis that Oliver knew he’d be punished for that comment later.

“But then my enemies would win, you know?” Cole said. He stopped spinning and turned so he was straddling the back of the chair and grabbed his phone, scrolling. “Like did you see the shit lil eazy was saying about me on twitter? And what? I’m supposed to kill myself and let them go on ripping off my music!” He flung the phone forward and tapped around with his black painted fingernails, showing Travis the tweets he was referring to. Travis indulged him by leaning in and humming sympathetically.

Cole tossed the phone and yanked on his black long sleeve shirt until it covered his palms. “You know I still haven’t gotten a Grammy,” he continued.

Oliver’s hand jerked and a sickening chord rang out as he threw his guitar down. “Alright, can you shut the fuck up for like one hour?”

Cole’s head bounced back and he scoffed. “What the fuck’s wrong with you?”

“I think what Oliver is trying to say,” Travis said in an even voice. “Is that we need to make headway on this song.”

“No!” Oliver stomped over to Cole. Cole stood from his chair, chest pressed outward, arms outstretch to either side like he was inviting a fight. “What I’m saying is that you’re so up your own ass no one would ever give you a Grammy cause we’d never hear the end of it!”

Cole curled his lip and lifted his long leg over the chair and rounded toward Oliver. He put his face close enough that their noses were touching. “What did you just say to me?” Cole asked in a low threat.

“You like to pretend you’re a sad little emo boy who talks about slitting his wrists because someone hurt his feelings on twitter, but you don’t know what it feels like to hate yourself so much that you actually do it. You’re a pathetic, whiny little brat, and I’m sick of listening to your annoying voice.”

Cole’s mouth opened and closed. He poked a finger into Oliver’s chest. “Fuck. You.” He turned and stormed out of the recording studio.

“Fucking diva!” Oliver screamed at his retreating back.

The door slammed hard enough to shake the room.

Travis sighed and leaned back. “That wasn’t very nice, Oliver.”

Oliver crossed his arms over his chest. He slumped down on the couch at the side of the room. “I don’t care,” he mumbled.

He did care, though. Travis knew he cared. Knew that Oliver wasn’t cruel, though his words made him seem that way. Oliver struggled with depression and self-harm his whole life. As someone who dealt with the realities of mental health issues, he took great offense when artists made light of the pain him and so many other people were in every day.

Cole’s insecurity and faux macho act were salt in Oliver’s wounds.

But Travis also knew that Cole only made light of those mental health struggles because he dealt with some of his own dark thoughts.

Travis stood from behind his drums and sat beside Oliver on the couch. He wrapped an arm around his shoulder, and Oliver melted into him, resting his head on his chest. Neither of them said anything.

Travis let the full power of his alpha pheromones pump out calming scents until Oliver’s eyelids grew heavy.

“I’m sorry,” Oliver mumbled in the quiet recording studio.

Travis brushed his thumb up and down the outside of Oliver’s shoulder. “It’s not me you need to apologize to.”

“I know,” he said in a small voice. A sigh and then his voice became thicker, anger and something darker seeping in, “He just gets on my fucking nerves. I just wanna…” He curled his fingers into fists.

The corner of Travis’s mouth quirked up. “You just wanna watch me make him submit until he doesn’t care about anyone’s opinion except his alpha’s?”

“Yeah,” Oliver breathed out a little ragged. “That’s exactly what I want.”

Travis took a long slow breath. His cock twitching at the thought. “Well, we’re not going to write a song today, anyway.”

Oliver looked up. His big innocent eyes, one brown and one blue, begged for instructions that Travis was only too happy to give. He lowered his voice, infusing dominance into the command that the submissive parts of Oliver resonated to.

“Go find Cole. Bring him back here. You’ll apologize, and then we’ll see if he’s interested in a little arrangement.”

Oliver blinked. His shoulders relaxing as his alpha’s command settled inside of him. He nodded. “Yes, Alpha.”

Travis put his arms on the back of the couch and watched Oliver walk out of the studio. He let his eyes linger on his ass in his ripped skinny jeans as he left. When he was gone, Travis blinked away the hunger that was consuming him.

Travis, Oliver, and Cole had been working together on and off for about six weeks. There had been an intense energy between the three of them since the beginning. Travis had been excited to explore it in song making.

Cole was a whiz with his lyrics. His rap background made words and beats come together in lines that surprised and delighted Travis. He had the ability to pull the unexpected out of thin air when he was confident enough to focus.

Oliver was an excellent singer with his hard rasp edge. His angry and sad energy infused into the words and made the lyrics come to life.

And Travis on the drums was the steady beat that pulled them all together.

Travis had met Cole two years ago when they collaborated on his newest record. Cole’s pop punk album was a hard left turn for him, given he’d become famous in the rap world. He was worried what his record label would think, so he pulled Travis in—a pop punk legend—and in secret they wrote, produced, and brought to life a new direction for Cole.

When his record label threatened to trash it because Cole’s contract clearly stated he’d make rap albums for them, Travis stood up for him and showed them the industry research that proved that pop punk was having a second wave.

The label took a chance on Cole’s album. It blew up, and Travis and Cole couldn’t wait to make the next one.

While Travis was killing it in the music scene, he’d started a relationship with Oliver, another artist who was dipping his toe into the mainstream. After years of hard, heavy screamo music, Oliver’s band was starting to find their footing by making music that still rocked hard but also resonated with a broader base.

Travis and Oliver had instantly hit it off when they met at a party in LA. They learned just how well they fit together later that night when Oliver’s knees were buckling when Travis accidentally let his alpha voice slip out.

Travis had apologize—of course—they hadn’t discussed their designations and Travis was usually much better at control his instincts, but something about Oliver brought it out in him.

Oliver didn’t mind. Said that he’d been struggling to not bare his neck to Travis all night. He’d known where they’d end up together, even if Travis didn’t at the time.

Oliver’s mental health struggles lessened when he was taking care of himself, and Travis made sure he was well taken care of. He made sure Oliver ate and got enough sleep. Made sure he took breaks from song writing or recording. He looked over his tour schedule and his contracts to make sure his label wasn’t working him too hard.

Oliver got to be his best self because he knew Travis would care for him in the ways that Oliver’s parents never did.

And Travis got to feel wanted, needed, and important. He got to feel that zip of pleasure when Oliver smiled at him, soft and languid, as they cuddle on the couch or heated and hungry when they saw each other across the room at a music event.

When Travis introduced Cole and Oliver—fireworks.

Travis didn’t quite know at the time whether they were good or bad fireworks, but after they hung out together for the first time, Oliver came home that night horny and needy and ready to combust. Travis hadn’t been much better. Something about the three of them just exploded.

But whatever that thing was that made them so good together, also raged out of control. There was no one that got under Oliver’s skin as much as Cole. The anger between them…it felt like unacknowledged sexual tension to Travis.

Cole’s behavior didn’t bother Travis as much as it did Oliver because Travis knew why Cole was acting out.

He needed someone to care for him. He was obviously an unexpressed omega who didn't know he needed an alpha.

Where Oliver needed to be reminded his life was worth living. Cole needed to be reminded that his self-worth couldn’t come from what the people on twitter were saying about him, or a stupid music award. He needed to believe he was special.

Cole needed a firm, guiding hand. He needed to be given boundaries, and consequences for when those boundaries were broken. He needed someone who cared enough about him to punish him. To praise him.

And because Cole was stubborn and guarded, he’d do best in a relationship where he could see an example of what a well-loved omega acted like.

He needed someone like Oliver to show him what he could feel like. He needed someone like Travis to guide him there.

But would Cole submit?

***

“This is so fucking stupid,” Cole muttered as he stomped back into the studio behind Oliver. His arms were crossed over his chest and he stood at the door and tapped his foot, thick black combat boots making a thumping noise. “Fine. I’m here. What do you want?”

Oliver sighed and glanced at Travis. Travis gave him a reassuring nod and he raised an arm, gesturing for Cole to sit on the couch. “Give us five minutes and then you can leave.”

Cole cracked his jaw side-to-side and walked through the room with heavy steps and plopped down on the couch, arms never leaving their crossed position. “Fine.”

Travis’s hand twitched. He wanted to grab Cole and pull him over his knee. Spank his petulant attitude right from him, but he resisted.

“What do you want?” Cole huffed. “To bully me some more?”

Oliver took a deep breath through his nose. His fingers clenched and unclenched. Travis stood behind Oliver, put both his hands on his shoulders and walked him in front of Cole. “Oliver has something he wanted to tell you.”

Cole curled his lip but raised an eyebrow at Oliver, waiting.

Oliver took another breath and loosened it. His shoulders relaxed under Travis’s hands. “I’m sorry, Cole,” he said with sincerity. “I shouldn’t have said those things to you. It was cruel and wrong, and I didn’t mean it. I was upset because your words felt dismissive to my struggles and instead of telling you that, I lashed out and tried to make you feel bad.”

Cole’s arms fell from their crossed position, his eyebrows pulled downward and he straightened. “I…I didn’t know.”

Oliver nodded and stared at the ground.

“Do you forgive him, Cole?” Travis asked.

Cole nodded, still staring at Oliver. “Yeah, of course.”

“Good,” Travis said. He let the silence hang for a beat and then said, “Would you like to see how Oliver handles big emotions?”

Cole furrowed his brow, ripping his gaze from Oliver to look at Travis. “How?”

Travis stepped to Oliver’s side, and caressed his cheek, fingers tickling down his neck and splaying on the back of his neck. He used his thumb to leverage Oliver’s head upward and turned it toward him.

“Oliver finds it easier if I give him permission to feel things, and then I take his pain away,” Travis said. He put pressure on Oliver’s neck, and Oliver’s knees buckled, falling to the carpet. His hooded eyes gazed up adoringly at Travis.

“You did so good, baby. Cole forgives you. You’re forgiven. You’re okay. I’m so proud of you,” Travis whispered, infusing the alpha tone of his voice into the words to make sure every part of Oliver felt the truth of the sentiment throughout his body.

Oliver’s eyes fluttered shut and he shuddered as the wash of Travis’ alpha tone fell over him, cleansed him, integrated the sentiment into every cell.

Travis hummed, pleased, as tension poured out of Oliver’s body. He rested his large palm on the side of Oliver’s face and brought his cheek to rest on Travis’s thigh.

Cole had leaned forward, watching the interaction, eyes wide with interest.

“What did you do to him?” Cole asked on a whisper.

“I didn’t do anything. I just let him be who he is. He gets to let go because he knows I’m here for him.”

Cole blinked, speechless, staring at Oliver who was nuzzling into Travis’s thigh as Travis stroked his curly brown hair.

“Do you want to try it, Cole?” Travis asked. He didn’t use his alpha suggestion on him. He wanted Cole to want this. To choose it freely.

“I can’t do that.”

“You don’t have to do anything,” Travis said. “That’s the point. You don’t have to think at all. I’ll do that for you. Your body will listen to my command without having to think or decide or worry.”

Travis bent down to put his finger and thumb under Oliver’s chin. He took his hand and guided him to standing, pulling him in close and kissing him long and hard before breaking the kiss to place his lips on Oliver’s forehead.

“So good. Such a perfect boy,” Travis murmured.

Oliver hummed happily.

They both turned to Cole whose eyes had somehow gotten even wider. He watched their every move with a shocked curiosity.

Travis released Oliver and crouched down in front of Cole. He grabbed the backs of his calves. “What do you say, Cole? Do you want to try? You don’t have to do anything.”

“Except do exactly what you say,” Cole said, petulant.

Travis smiled softly and nodded. “You can trust me to take care of you. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

Some of the tension melted from Cole’s expression as his eyes darted around Travis’s face, almost if he was trying to decide if this was one big prank. He wanted to submit. Travis could feel it. He was just scared.

Travis’s thumbs brushed up and down Cole’s inner ankles. “I helped write and produce the album you were worried no one would like. I went up to bat for you when you were afraid what your label would say when you shifted from rap to punk pop. I took care of you, didn’t I?”

Cole swallowed and nodded.

Travis’s hands traveled up Cole’s legs, slow and sensuous. Cole probably didn’t even notice how he widened his knees to make room for Travis to rest his hands on Cole’s hips. “Can I take care of you now?”

Cole’s eyes darted behind Travis. Whatever he saw in Oliver’s face must have given him the courage to nod and whisper, “Yes.”

Travis smiled. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out what might be the deal breaker, but if Cole let it, would be what ultimately gave him the greatest freedom.

The guards went back up in Cole’s eyes as he stared down at the leather collar Travis offered him.

“Can I put this on you?”

“He doesn’t have to be collared,” Cole said, pointing at Oliver.

Oliver stepped forward and twisted his palms, wrists up. Travis gently held Oliver's long smooth fingers. He caressed his thumb over the hole in the leather that only he had the key for. The banded leather was a few inches long. Covering the scars that Travis knew Oliver hated.

“Oliver wears these on his wrists because he wanted a reminder of my love and devotion for him when he was thinking about hurting himself.”

Cole’s eyes widen and he glanced up at Oliver. “Oh,” the word was a small broken thing.

Cole took an uneven breath and, hesitantly, leaned forward, baring his neck to Travis. His alpha instincts purred and some of Cole’s tension dissolved as Travis fitted the collar around his neck.

“So pretty, Cole,” Travis murmured, stroking his face. “You look so good like this.”

His eyelashes fluttered and he swayed a little, unconsciously following Travis’s retreating hand. Travis stood and stepped back from the couch.

“The first thing you’ll do is apologize to Oliver for your careless words,” Travis said.

Cole’s eyes snapped open, the daze clearing immediately.

***

 

The calm feeling that had been melting him flared into a sickening dread. Cole’s nostrils flared. His skin prickled and heat filled his chest, a blush crept up his neck, under the leather of his collar.

He felt hot and constricted. Belittled and humiliated. He hated this feeling. Being the laughing stock on the internet. The butt of the jokes. The subject of rap disses. He hated being outcasted, his musical abilities ignored. Pathetic. Worthless. Patronized.

Cole curled his lip and yanked on his collar, but it wouldn’t come off. “No.”

Travis calmly took three strides back to the couch. Cole glared up at him. Travis grabbed a fistful of his spiky pink hair and yanked him off the couch until Cole’s knees hit the floor.

“Ouch! Fuck! What are you doing?” Cole exclaimed grabbing at Travis’s hand.

“Crawl,” he said.

“What? No!”

“Crawl,” he repeated, his tone deepened into something altogether different than he’d heard Travis use before. Cole’s knees were weakening, his body melting. His mind softening into something malleable.

“I don’t want to crawl,” he tried again, but his protest came out weak this time.

“I know, but you’re trusting me now to know what you need. You can’t use your words to apologize to Oliver, then you’ll use your actions. Crawl to him,” Travis said.

Cole’s heart pounded rapidly in his chest. His scalp tingled where Travis held his hair. He was already on his knees. He glanced up at Travis. He didn’t look at him with pity or disgust or laughter. He was staring down at him with lust, longing, and need. The same emotions in Oliver’s eyes.

Cole swallowed and leaned forward on to the heels of his hands. He shuffled his knees over the carpet, crawling until Oliver’s shoes were in his view.

Travis yanked his head back. Cole’s eyes landed on Oliver who was staring at him with a parted mouth and hooded eyes.

He looked like he did when he was on his knees for Travis. Like he wanted to be there. Like he liked it. He looked happy and relaxed and…safe. Cole wanted that.

Something snapped inside of him. He felt it then. Cole had been lowered, but he hadn’t been made small.

He didn’t want to hurt Oliver. Of course, his callous words would be painful to hear for someone who struggled with self-harm. Sorrow cracked in his chest; tears came to his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said. “So so sorry.”

Oliver smiled softly and nodded.

Travis’s hand loosened in his hair. He petted the back of Cole’s head.

“Do you forgive him, Olls?”

“Yes,” he whispered. “I forgive you.”

Travis wound his fingers into Cole’s spiky pink hair. “So good, Cole. You did so well.”

Cole trembled and Travis kneeled down beside him. He pulled his head to his shoulder and squeezed him tight until Cole was able to take a full breath.

“More,” he whimpered. “Please.”

Travis leaned back and searched his face. “More what, sweetheart?”

“This. I don’t know. You said you could make Oliver’s pain go away. Make mine go away too. Please,” Cole begged.

Travis held the back of Cole’s head. “Okay. Are you sure?”

Cole nodded vigorously.

“Do you know how I do that?”

He shook his head.

“Do you know why when you stub your toe or hit your hand on something, you automatically start rubbing the spot to make the pain go away? The nerve endings that are crying out in pain then feel the sensation of rubbing and it disperses the pain,” Travis explained. “Sometimes rubbing, touching, caressing is enough.” He rubbed Cole’s back, and Cole did feel better, but he didn’t feel that otherworldly freedom that Oliver looked like he had. Like he was out of his mind with pleasure.

Travis tilted his head. “But sometimes that’s not enough. Sometimes you need one pain to take away the sting of another.”

Oliver made a gasping noise. Cole read the excitement in his eyes. If Oliver liked it…Cole would probably like it too.

“Okay,” he agreed.

***

Oliver was giddy with excitement. He was still buzzing from Travis’s alpha pheromones, from kneeling for him, but he couldn’t wait to watch Travis show Cole where the true freedom came from.

Travis walked to the couch and sat. His tight red leather pants didn’t hide the outline of his hard cock. Oliver hoped he’d just take them off. He couldn’t be comfortable, but Travis patted his thigh and Cole got up and walked over. He seemed confused, or nervous, so Oliver grabbed his hand and placed it on the other side of Travis’s thigh.

“It’s okay,” Oliver said. “You’ll like it. I always do.”

Cole’s wide eyes still betrayed his fear, but he nodded and climbed on to the couch, laying himself out on Travis’s lap. Oliver sat crossed legged on the floor near Cole’s head.

Cole shivered as Travis’s hand rubbed down his back, stroked his thighs, and then continued higher to the flesh of his ass. Cole was breathing heavy, his hands clenched and anxious.

Travis purred, and even Oliver started swaying when his alpha pheromone filled the room. Cole relaxed a little, but he didn’t close his eyes.

“Ready?” Travis asked.

Oliver shifted and rearranged his dick. His pants were baggy enough that he didn’t feel pressure, but god, he wished he could take them off.

But his alpha didn’t say he could. So he sat and waited and watched.

Travis’s hand rubbed up and down Cole’s ass and then it lifted and came down hard, the slapping resounding through the room, even with Cole’s pants on.

Cole cringed. “Ouch, shit.”

Travis put his free hand at the back of Cole’s neck, fingers looping into his collar, reminding Cole who was in control, pressing until his dominance loosened Cole enough that he didn’t expect the next smack.

Cole whimpered this time, but his eyes were closing. Travis caressed his thighs and over his back. The room was filled with soothing pheromone, and darker ones. The kind Travis used on Oliver when he’s being too hard on himself. The kind that translated to “Give in to me. Let me take it all away.”

Cole took a few more smacks and each time, flinched less and less. Oliver was hard and straining as he watched. Travis always knew when Oliver’s ass was starting to numb. When he needed to move position or surprise him.

He knew that Cole was getting too used to the warm-ups. “Sit up, Cole.”

Cole blinked sleepily and sat up without any fuss.

“Stand. Take off your pants.”

Cole was sobering up now, he glanced at Oliver who only nodded, trying to be supportive, but really his eyes were glued to Cole’s zipper. He wanted to see him naked. Wanted to see all the tattoos he knew were hidden underneath. One day he’d take the time to trace them with his fingertip, read the map they made on his body, but today he really just wanted to see his dick.

Cole took a deep breath and unlaced his combat boots and toed them off. He removed his socks and straightened to get his studded belt. If Oliver took this long to take his clothes off when his alpha commanded, he’d get a stern word and probably wouldn’t be allowed to come, but Travis was being nice to Cole since this was his first time.

Cole bent at the waist and pulled his skinny jeans off at the ankle, hopping on one foot and then the other to remove them. Then he hooked his thumbs into his tight boxers and took them off in one fell swoop.

He stood, straightening, tense. Oliver licked his lips at Cole’s hard jutting cock.

“Should I?” Cole asked and gestured to Travis’s lap.

Oliver glanced at Travis. He was smiling at him. “Do you want a taste, Olls? I think Cole took his warm up well, don’t you? Maybe a little encouragement would help him for the next round?”

Oliver grinned and knee-walked to Cole, who looked at little confused until the moment Oliver grabbed the base of his cock and wrapped his lips around the head.

Cole groaned, and Oliver ran his hands up the backs of his thigh, brushing the hair on his legs, and up to the globes of his ass that were still warm from his spanking.

“Jesus Christ,” Cole moaned. He palmed the back of his head. “Your fucking mouth.”

Oliver tongued the head of his cock, enjoying the salty bitter taste that he collected from the slit. He circled and sucked and swallowed his cock, delirious for it. Travis was purring his satisfaction and it only made Oliver work harder. The sensation of Cole hard in his mouth and knowing that he was pleasing his alpha was almost too much.

“Stop,” Travis commanded.

Oliver did.

But it was hard. Hard because Oliver had almost come without being touched at all.

“Get back into position, Cole.”

“Okay.”

“You say, Yes, Alpha when I command you.”

Oliver scurried back to his spot without having to be told. Cole worried his lip a little but nodded. “Yes, Alpha.”

Travis had removed his tight red leather pants while Oliver was busying blowing Cole and now he said in his boxers on the couch, his tattooed chest naked and on display as it had been all day.

Cole positioned himself over Travis’s lap and rested his head on the couch. He flinched when Travis placed a hand on his ass.

“This will hurt a lot more,” Travis warned.

But Cole didn’t get a chance to brace himself because Travis brought down the first slap quicker than the sentence even ended. Cole jerked, but he moaned into the couch.

Travis spanked the left cheek until it was bright red and then the right. His fingers played with the little crease where rounded flesh met thigh, dipped into the dimples of his back, and disappeared between his legs once or twice. Oliver’s ball throbbed in empathetic longing. He couldn’t see from his position, but he knew Travis was cupping them, gentle and tender in contrast to the hard slaps of his hand on his ass.

Cole was shifting left and right, moaning into the fabric of the couch, making it wet with salvia from his drool. Travis laid a heavy arm on his back to keep him still and continued spanking him until his pale white ass was an angry bright red.

Cole was panting and humping forward, either to get away from the sting or because he was trying to get off. Travis wouldn’t allow either.

“Oliver,” Travis said. “Hold his head still.”

Oliver leaned up and grabbed a handful of Cole’s pink hair. He bent his head back, so his neck was strained, which automatically made Cole arched his low back and thrust his ass into the air.

“How do you feel, Cole?” Travis asked.

“Sore,” he said on a rasp.

“Mmm,” Travis said. “I meant emotionally.”

“Uhm.” His eyes were closing and Oliver yanked at his hair to get him to focus. “I guess, I feel kinda stupid and worried that someone will see me like this. Will make fun of me.”

Travis hummed. He caressed the red flesh of Cole’s ass. Oliver loosened his grip and let Cole rest his cheek on the couch. He ran his fingers through his hair, stroking him, caressing him. He really was beautiful. His light blue eyes and his angular face. Oliver could stare at him all day.

“Everything you’re worried about. Everyone you’re worried about. They don’t matter,” Travis said. “Nothing matters except me and Oliver. We’re going to take care of you.”

Cole whimpered. “But they’re mean to me. They say I suck. That I’m cringey. That I’m just a poser.”

“Some people do say that. Where does that hurt you? Where in your body?”

Cole was silent for a beat. Oliver stroked his hair and down his neck to soothe him.

“My stomach,” he whispered. “It’s like a pitting. Cause…what if they’re right? What I’m just embarrassing myself.”

“Embarrassment is an evolutionary mechanism to protect people from being ostracized from the group,” Travis said. “But you have millions of fans, and more importantly, you have me and Oliver. That embarrassment doesn’t have to stick around anymore because we’ll never leave you.”

Cole took a ragged breath. “Still hurts.”

Travis lifted his hand and spanked him in the center of his ass, where the red was the brightest, where Oliver knew it’d hurt the worst. Cole moaned and buried his face into the cushion. Travis did it again and again until Cole was weeping.

“Does it hurt more than this?” Travis grabbed a handful of the aching flesh.

Cole shook his head. “No.”

“What else?”

Cole sniffled and in a broken voice he said, “I don’t have a grammy.”

“No, you don’t. Where does that hurt?”

He didn’t hesitate to answer this time. “My chest. It’s…like…I’m not good enough. No one thinks I’m good enough.” His voice broken and he repeated it over and over. “I’m not good enough.”

“Shh…” Travis said. His pheromones shifted, they became so thick they coated Oliver’s throat, seeped into every pore until every word Travis said became a part of his psyche. “You’re so good, Cole. Your music is so good. I’m so proud of everything you accomplished. So very proud of you.”

Cole sobbed. His chest heaving in big rapid pulses.

Travis didn’t have to spank him this time. Both he and Oliver felt the dam break inside of Cole. Felt the way he was crumbling and giving up and giving in to what they were making here. In this room. Together.

He was crying because he’d been in pain. So much pain. For so long. And now he didn’t have to be anymore.

Oliver knew. Travis had given that gift to Oliver too.

Oliver leaned down and kissed Cole’s temple. “We have you,” he whispered.

They murmured soft nothings until Cole settled down. His body limp and soft. Oliver couldn’t say the same about his own body. Not when Cole broke apart so beautifully.

“Do you want your reward now?” Travis asked.

Cole took a deep breath and nodded.

“Sit up.”

Cole did as commanded. Travis grabbed his hips and positioned him so he was sitting on his knee. Cole looked at little funny with his long sleeve shirt still on and no pants, but Travis didn’t tell him to take it off.

“Make yourself come.”

Cole didn’t protest. He didn’t whine or complain, which struck Oliver as strange. He really was broken down enough to listen to Travis. It probably wouldn’t last after they left this room. Cole would always be a brat, but Travis would always delight in dominating him and Oliver would always delight in watching.

Cole’s hand wrapped around his dick and he stroked himself with quick, efficient jerks, his eyes darted from Travis, down his chest and to the budge in his underwear, over to Oliver.

Travis just rubbed his back. “He's pretty like this, isn't he? Do you want to touch him, Olls?”

“Yeah.”

“Go ahead.”

Oliver leaned up on his knees and cupped Cole’s balls. Cole spread his legs and panted into Oliver’s ear. He liked their weight, liked the way Cole was open and vulnerable. Stroking himself while he sat on Travis’s lap. While Oliver fondled his balls. Oliver tugged on them gently and rubbed his fingers along the skin behind them, making his way to—

Cole groaned, tossed his head back, and his come spurted up into the air and over his hand, leaving white streaks on his black shirt.

“Mmm,” Travis murmured. Cole huffed a breath and then melted down, nuzzling his face into Travis’s neck.

Oliver stood and went to get a tissue to clean up what he could, though Cole’s shirt was definitely stained now.

Cole sighed and sat up. He looked to Travis, waiting for his next instructions. Travis smiled. “Take off your shirt. Get on your hands and knees on the couch.”

Cole complied and Travis went to his bag across the room while he commanded Oliver to get naked and sit on the arm of the couch. Oliver had his clothes off in record time before Travis even came back with a condom and lube.

He kissed the red skin of Cole’s ass and made a trail up his spine until he was bent over him, whispering in his ear. “I’m going to fuck you, and Oliver’s going to fuck your throat, and then we’re going hold each other and give you aftercare. Understand?”

Cole nodded. “Yes, alpha,” he said, breathless. His eager blue eyes looked up at Oliver, trailed down his chest and over his tattoos until they settled on his erection.

Oliver smacked the head of his cock against Cole’s lips, smeared his precome over his mouth, but he didn’t put it in. Not yet. Not until his alpha said he could.

Cole sucked in a breath as Travis fingered his hole. Oliver had to squeeze the base of his dick to get himself to hold out for the entire show. He was so needy for these men. He didn’t know why he like watching Cole get dominated by Travis. Why he loved seeing it so much. Why both Travis and Cole had crawled under his skin the second he’d met them.

Travis rolled on a condom, and pressed his hips forward, breaching Cole’s entrance, slow. Cole’s eyes rolled into the back of his head. “Fuck,” he whispered.

Travis held Cole’s hips and wait a second to let Cole’s body open up for him. He lowered his eyes to Oliver’s hard cock. “I think he’s hungry for you, don’t you?”

Oliver nodded and put his hand under Cole’s chin, pressing his thumbs into his cheeks to open his mouth. Cole let Oliver manhandle him. Let Oliver feed him his cock. He took them both, let them use his body, let them chase their pleasure.

Cole choked and slobbered on Oliver’s dick as his ass got pounded by Travis, and his eyes were glassy and hooded. He moaned and arched and when Travis leaned forward and wrapped an arm around Cole’s waist, he knew that Cole was hard again, was getting off on being used by them.

The tight heat of Cole’s throat squeezed him and he came in his mouth hard. He sucked and swallowed Oliver’s come just in time for him to choke out his own moan, shooting his release on to the couch.

Travis finished last, filling Cole up with his come, and all three of them collapsed.

Travis stuck to his word—he always does—and cleaned everyone up after he caught his breath. He made sure to lotion Cole so he wouldn’t chafe, and since they all didn’t all fit on the couch they laid out the couch cushions on the floor and cuddled together for an hour or two.

Travis wouldn’t let Cole go home alone—sub drop was a real side effect, especially for his first time. The three of them went to Travis’s house. Ate pizza. And fell asleep in Travis’s giant bed.

The next day, high on endorphins, they went back to the studio and made a song.

And then another the next day.

And another the next.

They produced a whole album together, including filming the music videos. Travis, Cole, and Oliver were sure that none of their fans would see the soft glances exchanged between the three of them. They were convinced the fans wouldn’t read the hidden meanings in their songs.

But then again, when Oliver watched the music videos alone in his house, he blushed at how obvious they were. How he’d glanced at Cole while belting out the lyrics about looking for someone irreplaceable. Or how Cole stared in awe and adoration at Travis as he pounded away on the drums. Or how Travis couldn’t stop staring at either of them, even when he was supposed to be focusing on playing.

But when they were together, they didn’t need to focus on making music.

Music was made between them when they gave in to their feelings.

Chapter 2: The Cage

Summary:

Cole is misbehaving again, but Travis has a new solution.

“This is so stupid. Just spank me and get it over with.”

“No,” Travis said.

“Why not?” Cole asked, pouting.

“Oh my god,” Ollie said with a put-out sigh. “You know why not.”

Because that’s not what you actually want, and it’s certainly not what you need, Travis thought.

Instead of saying that aloud, he sighed. “I’m your alpha. The three of us decided what rules we’d have together, and I get to decide what I think is a suitable punishment for when you break them.”

Cole harrumphed and crossed his arms over his chest, slouching in his chair.

Travis and Ollie were working on a new song when Cole burst in the room complaining about the rap battle he was currently in and basically asking for punishment as he clearly knew he was breaking the rules.

There were a few minutes of silence and then Cole spoke up again. “I’m an adult. I can do what I want. Why are you treating me like a child?”

“Because you’re acting like one,” Travis said with an even tone. “You are an adult. You can do whatever you want, but you’re also in a relationship with us, and one of the things we all agreed upon was that you wouldn’t get drunk and get into social media fights and rap battles with people.”

Cole rolled his eyes, and then stared right at Travis, practically daring Travis to punish him for the eye roll.

But Travis knew brats like Cole wanted attention, even if that attention was negative attention, so despite the fact that Cole’s eye rolling and backtalk was not respectful and broke the rules they agreed to, Travis didn’t punish him, didn’t rise to the bait.

No, he did something far worse. He turned his back, and gave all of his attention to the pretty omega on the couch beside him.

Ollie wasn’t in a good place. He was trying to write a song and it wasn’t working, but Travis knew what he needed to do to help him. “Want to kneel for me, love?”

Ollie’s eyes fluttered shut, and he hummed in affirmation, sliding off the couch and onto his knees in front of Travis. Ollie loved kneeling.

Sometimes just the position would be enough, but Travis knew he’d need more today. There was a tension in Ollie’s shoulders, his jaw clenched tight in a way that Travis knew Ollie probably didn’t even notice.

Travis did though. He saw how the longer and longer Ollie tried to write, the scraps of crumpled up paper overflowing the trash can, the panic and helplessness that crept up and strangled Ollie until there were no words to explain what he was feelings or why he was hurting or what he needed.

“Relax, Ols,” Travis whispered using just a smidge of his alpha tone. Just the hint of a command, a nudge, a suggestion. He couldn’t force Ollie into subspace or force the tension to leave his body. If he did that, the second Ollie came out of subspace it would all flood back. Ollie’s body and his mind had to unfurl for itself if he hoped to keep it that way.

Travis cupped Ollie’s cheek, brushed his thumb over Ollie’s plump kissable lips, and then put the palm of his hand on the side of Ollie’s face, guiding Ollie’s cheek to his thigh. He used the pads of his fingers to massage the back of Ollie’s head. Ollie sighed heavily as something released inside of him. He ran his cheek up and down Travis’s thigh.

Travis was getting hard. Having Ollie’s perfect lips near his crotch would do that, but it wasn’t all sexual between them right now. It was something more. Something deeper.

“What are you holding on to that you need to let go?” Travis asked just above a whisper.

Ollie whimpered, squeezed his eyes shut. “Nothing I write is good. I think…part of me thinks I can’t write unless I’m drunk or high or hurting myself.”

Travis hummed. He ran his hands through Ollie’s hair. “The only way to metabolize those experiences is to be sober. To be someplace that you are capable of creating and telling a story. You can’t tell a story if you’re in pain. You can’t truly create if you’re not in the right mental space.”

Ollie nodded. “I know.” He opened his eyes and tilted his chin up to Travis. “I just want to get out of my head.”

Travis bit his bottom lip. Part of him thought maybe Ollie needed to talk in order to move through this block, but Ollie so rarely asked for anything, so rarely verbalized what he wanted. Travis wanted to reward that behavior.

There was always time for talking later.

“You want to be my good boy?” Travis asked.

Ollie nodded his head eagerly, looking up at him with his big innocent eyes, one brown and one blue.

“Okay,” Travis said. “Go ahead.”

Ollie’s hands came to Travis’s belt and made short work of it, unzipping his jeans. Travis pushed them down just a bit. Ollie started mouthing outside the fabric, the sensation of his warm, wet mouth just above the barrier of the fabric of his boxers was making Travis’s eyes roll back into his head.

Travis reached a hand back and yanked off his shirt. He wanted an unobstructed view.

Ollie’s fingers curled into the waist band of his underwear as his lips pressed chaste little kisses to his stomach.

“Take me out,” Travis said.

Ollie obeyed. He licked and sucked the head of Travis’s cock, teasing him and drawing it out. Travis scraped his fingernails through Ollie’s hair and along his scalp. “So good,” he praised. “You’re so perfect, baby.”

Ollie sighed heavily through his nostrils. He closed his eyes as his lips wrapped around Travis’s cock making a suction as he tongued the head. “Ah. Your mouth feels amazing. You’re going to make me come.”

Ollie moaned and the vibration made Travis’s toes curl. Ollie’s face slackened as he worked Travis over. The tension in his shoulders and furrow between his eyebrows fell away as Travis watched Ollie relax into subspace.

“That’s it,” Travis said. “So good.” His voice deepened into the alpha tone that made the rest of whatever stress Ollie was holding on to disappear.

Travis almost forgot about Cole entirely. Almost went into domspace himself at the sight of one of his omegas in so much pleasure, but then Travis heard sound to the left of him, skin-on-skin, and when he turned he let his cool, collected attitude slipped a little at what he saw.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Travis barked.

Cole smirked and continued to stroke his cock, eyes wander all over Travis’s body, to Ollie. Travis gently touched Ollie’s cheek and Ollie’s mouth released him.

Travis took a deep breath for patience.

“Not my fault I got hard,” Cole said. “Not like I can control it when you’re doing that right in front of me.”

“Mmm,” Travis said, stuffing himself back into his jeans, but leaving them unzipped. He tilted Ollie’s chin to check his eyes, to make sure he hadn’t jolted him out of subspace, but his eyes were clear and he appeared lucid. Subspace hadn’t taken him completely. Travis leaned down and whispered into Ollie’s ear. “Should I punish him for interrupting us?”

Ollie grinned and nodded his head. “Yes, alpha,” he whispered.

Travis didn’t glance at Cole as he got up and went to his bag that he kept in the corner of the room.

The sound of the zipper opening was loud and ominous even to Travis.

“I’ve always thought that cages were cruel,” Travis said to himself, but loud enough for the omegas to hear his musings. “That misbehaving omegas needed positive reinforcement, more than punishments, but I got to say Cole, you certainly make a good case for the latter.”

Travis turned with the metal contraption in his hand.

Ollie laughed and sat back on his heals. “Ooooo you’re going to get it now.”

Cole was half smiling, half smirking, mostly because he didn’t know what Travis was holding. Oh no, he just thought that he was going to get his punishment, his attention.

“I can take it,” Cole said, confident, cocky. He leaned back and watched Travis approach him.

Travis stopped in front of him. Kneeled before him.

Cole’s eyes widened.

Alphas didn’t kneel for omegas. Especially naughty omegas. That was when a little bit of fear glinted in Cole’s eye. He knew this wasn’t like the other punishments he’d gotten before.

Travis unzipped Cole’s pants the rest of the way and tugged on them until Cole got the picture and lifted his hips so Travis could take them off. Travis discarded his pants. Cole just in his t-shirt now. His cock was hard, precome glistening.

Travis grabbed it just under the head. “This really won’t do.”

“Whaa—”

Travis squeezed hard enough for pain, but not hard enough to actually hurt him.

“Fuck. Ouch. Goddamn,” Cole said, squirming. “What are you going to do? Yank my dick off?”

Travis shook his head. “Of course not.” Squeezed again, and while Cole was still whining about that he used his other hand to tug and squeeze his balls—hard.

“Jesus. Fuck. This isn’t—fuck this actually hurts. Not fun hurt,” Cole said.

“Yeah,” Travis said, doing it again. “I know.”

“Owww, fuck me.”

“Nope. That won’t be happening,” Travis said. He leaned over and bit Cole’s nipple.

“Fuck,” Cole said, slapping a palm over his chest. “Goddamnit.”

Finally, the pain was enough that Cole’s dick was wilting. Travis didn’t like hurting Cole. He was no sadist and Cole wasn’t a masochist. Like Cole said, spanking and orgasm denials were fun hurts, but Travis didn’t want Cole to have any fun.

Travis lifted the metal contraption, opened it up and secured the first part around the base of Cole’s balls.

“What the fuck is that?”

“Spread your legs,” Travis said.

“What is that?” Cole repeated.

“Spread them, Cole. Don’t make me ask again,” Travis said, the bite of an alpha in his tone.

Cole grumbled a little but spread his legs as he was told. Travis didn’t really need them to spread. He just wanted Cole to feel vulnerable and a little bit humiliated.

Travis slid the other part onto Cole’s mostly soft cock. It fit, just barely, but that was okay. Travis had had this measured and made for Cole. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that he might need it someday. He latched the metal around Cole’s soft cock, caging him.

Travis checked everything with his finger to make sure that it wouldn’t actually hurt him and no skin was pitching, and Cole whimpered softly, finally realizing what he was getting.

Travis looked up, met Cole’s eye as he locked the latch and held his gaze as he slid the key into his pocket.

“I don’t like this,” Cole said, whining, but his tone lost its defiance and was now just needy. Oh, Travis loved him like this. On his way to full submission. The cockiness was gone now.

“You’re not supposed to,” Travis said.

Travis pressed his palms to Cole’s thighs and stood. He turned his back and went to Ollie whose eyes were gleaming with conspiratorial mischief. Travis liked punishing Cole. Ollie liked watching Cole get punished. And Cole…well, they were in a consensual relationship with safe words and boundaries and regular discussions about each other’s wants and needs (though sometimes it was pulling teeth to get his omegas to tell Travis what they wanted). Cole might not like being punished, but on some instinctual omega-level, he knew that Travis gave him exactly what he needed.

Travis sat on the couch, settled back into the cushions. “Stand up Cole,” he commanded.

Cole stood.

“Hands clasped behind your back. Legs spread a little,” Travis said. He turned to watch Cole put his leg’s hips’ width apart. Travis hummed. “Spread a little more.”

Cole’s breathing deepened, but he planted his feet a little more than hips’ distance.

Travis pulled his cock back out. He didn’t even need to give it a preparatory stroke. Caging Cole was hot. He might have to do it more often.

Ollie licked his lips, his eyes darting between Cole and Travis. He met Travis’s gaze, waiting. Travis cupped his cheek, stroked his thumb under his eye. “My sweet, sweet omega.”

Ollie’s eyes closed a little, swaying a bit into Travis’s touch. “Do you want your alpha’s come? Show Cole what treats good omegas get?”

Ollie nodded and Travis released him, moved his hands into his long curly brown hair. Ollie leaned over and sucked and licked and teased Travis just how Travis liked it. Every time Ollie sped up, Travis yanked gently on his hair to slow him back down.

He wanted to give Cole a little show, though Travis didn’t bother to glance at him at all. And asserting his control over Ollie let his omega sink into subspace, knowing that his alpha would take care of everything. That he didn’t have to think or get in his head. He let Travis control him. And Travis loved watching it, seeing Ollie be his full self without any of the second guessing or overthinking that held him back.

After a few minutes, Travis wasn’t going to be able to hold back anymore. Cole was breathing heavy, whimpering a bit as he watched his alpha get sucked off by another omega and couldn’t touch himself, couldn’t even get hard else the metal would squeeze him to the point of pain.

“Ah,” Travis moaned. “Here it comes. Take your alpha’s come like a good omega.”

Ollie moaned and sucked him down, lapped at his cock until he swallowed every drop.

Travis put himself away, and stroked Ollie’s head resting on his thigh. Travis leaned over and  rubbed outside of Ollie’s jeans, at the hard length inside. “Would you like to come?” Travis asked.

“Yes, please, alpha,” Ollie said, his eyelids half-closed, the subspace of blowing out his pupils.

Travis kissed him, soft and tender. Ollie yielded to him, his hands grabbing on to his shirt and holding on to him like an anchor. As Travis kissed Ollie, he undid his pants and slid his hand into his boxers. Stroked him as slow and easy as he was kissing him.

Ollie yanked back. “Alpha,” he said, hoarse, maybe a little embarrassed.

“What baby?”

“I’m so close,” Ollie said, burying his head into Travis’s neck.

Travis rubbed his back with one hand and sped up his other on his cock. “It’s okay. It’s okay, Ollie. You can come. Come for your alpha.”

Ollie’s body tensed and he sucked in a breath and then he was shuddering in Travis’s arms. His release dripping down Travis’s fist.

Travis waited until Ollie’s breathing returned to normal and then they separated just enough to keep up the mess between them. Travis tucked Ollie under his arm and cuddled him on the couch.

They had about three minutes of peace before Cole was whining again. “What about me? How long am I supposed to stand like this?”

Travis flicked his eyes over just once and then away again dismissively. “You’ll stand there the rest of the night.”

Cole huffed defiantly, and Travis just smiled.

“I think I have an idea for a song,” Ollie said.

***

Ollie and Travis worked together on Ollie’s song idea. It was about how sometimes we looked into the void, thought about doing the things that we knew would hurt us. Thought about jumping off the bridge, about hurting ourselves for the pain. About making the decision not to do the self-destructive thing.

Travis hoped that Cole paying attention.

Actually, he tried to make sure of it. Travis got a up a few times to grab some food or refill Ollie’s drink, and as he passed by Cole, he fondled him. He played with his nipples softly, licked at them a little, squeezed a handful of Cole’s ass hard enough to leave fingernail marks, sometimes he just blew on his neck.

It was close to midnight when the song was finally complete. Cole had been standing there grumbling off and on for the better part of two hours.

Before they all went to bed, Travis whispered instructions in Ollie’s ear.

Ollie smirked and crossed the room, kneeled at Cole’s feet and put his head between his legs, kissed his inner thighs and licked softly at his balls.

Cole tried to fight it, but Travis just watched as Cole’s face contorted into a pain pleasure. His spread legs shaking more and more with the pressure of holding still. He didn’t unclasp his hands from behind his back, didn’t shift his legs. Just stayed there and let Ollie tease him.

Travis was a little impressed. Cole wasn’t protesting. Maybe he should give him a break.

But then Cole chewed on his lip and his eyes glistened a little and he looked so beautiful like this, almost broken. Almost.

Travis couldn’t resist.

“Would you like to unclasp your hands, Cole?”

“Yes, alpha,” he cried. His legs were shaking. “Please,” he begged.

Travis smiled a little. Nodded. “Okay unclasp them, turn around and put your palms on the table.”

Cole sucked in a huge grateful breath. His legs looked a little noodle-y, but he did as he was told. Travis crossed the room and ran a hand from the back of his thigh, over the curve of his ass, to his lower back and kissed his shoulder.

“He’s so beautiful, alpha,” Ollie whispered. Still caressing Cole’s balls. He took a bite of Cole’s ass, sucked just a little.

“Yes,” Travis said. “He is.”

Cole shivered under the compliment. Travis almost backed out again. He knew Cole only wanted attention so much because he was deeply insecure.

But no, they set boundaries and Cole broke them. Travis needed to stay firm.

He pulled out the tiny bottle of lube from his pocket and handed it to Ollie. Ollie smiled and uncapped the bottle.

Cole’s shoulders tensed, knowing what that sound meant. He looked to Travis, shaking his head. “No. No, alpha. Please. I—I can’t take it.”

“You can,” Travis said. “And you will.”

Cole gritted his teeth. His fingers tried to dig into something, but just curled on top of the table.

“Spread your legs.”

Cole hesitated a moment, but then did as he was told. Giving Ollie more space. Ollie slicked up his finger and parted Cole’s cheeks with the other hand. Travis stepped back a little, wanted to watch Ollie tease the rim of Cole’s hole. Cole’s legs were shaking again, entire body tense.

“Relax,” Travis commanded, using enough of his alpha tone that Cole (and Ollie for that matter) both visibly relaxed.

Ollie slipped a finger inside and turned his hand, palm down, to massage Cole’s prostate. Travis had told Ollie not to tease or build up. Just to hammer at the pleasure spot until Cole was crying.

It didn’t take long. Cole was moaning and whimpering and cursing. His legs went back to shaking. A gleam of sweat broke out over his body.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Cole was muttering broken sounds. “Please. Alpha. Please. I need to come. It hurts.”

“No,” Travis said, stern.

Cole sobbed then. His body shook, chest heaving with crying and Travis stepped to his side, tilted his head up with a finger under his chin. Watched the tears skated down Cole’s face. The red rimmed eyes making his blue eyes even brighter.

“Okay, Ollie,” Travis said.

Travis sighed in relief as Ollie stopped.

“Thank you, alpha. Thank you,” Cole said.

“You’re welcome,” Travis said. “Now go shower and go to bed.”

Cole’s jaw dropped. “You’re not going to—what about?” he gestured to his groin.

Travis shook his head. “That stays on. And I don’t want you wearing pants until it comes off. Just this.” He tugged on his shirt.

Cole’s eyes widened as the reality of his situation hit him.

Travis helped Ollie to standing and together they went to the master bedroom to wash up. Cole came to bed with his hair damp, in only the shirt he slept in. Travis pulled the blankets off of him to look at his naked from the waist down body. At Cole’s cock that was caged up and his balls safely enclosed at the base.

Travis kissed Ollie and then slowly made love to him while Cole laid on his back, tried to ignore the kissing and moaning and skin slapping. After they both came in a blissed-out heap, Travis collapsed in the middle of the bed. He kissed the top of Ollie’s head to his left and kissed the top of Cole’s head to his right, and fell fast asleep beside his omegas.

***

Travis, Ollie, and Cole were working on promoting their newest album, but this week that only involved doing some podcast interviews from home and a few video interviews.

Cole dressed in a long sleeve t-shirt, but Travis tsked when he came into their office with pants on. “What did I tell you?”

Cole threw a hand to the computer. “I can’t be pantsless on the video.”

“The video is from the neck up. No one is going to see your waist or legs.” Travis raised an eyebrow. “Off.”

Cole grumbled a little, but removed his pants. Travis and Ollie watched him undressing. Travis loved Cole like this. Pantsless but with a shirt on. If he was completely undressed Cole would be too confident. But this in-between state was just vulnerable and deliciously humiliated.

They finished the interviews for the day, no one ever the wiser about anything below chest level.

Cole was allowed to do as he pleased during the day, as long as he didn’t wear pants, but that night Travis did the same thing as yesterday. Banished him to the corner of the room. Teased him as he walked past and subjected him to a prostate massage without orgasm before they went to bed.

Cole cried much quicker this time. Travis thought that must be progress.

The next day, was mostly the same, but instead of having Ollie finger him that night. Travis fucked Cole over the table, and had Ollie do the same until he was dripping with their come.

Cole cried through the whole thing, but he also thanked his alpha for using him so Travis figured Cole was sufficiently broken.

The next morning, Cole had this constantly mopey face on and he did everything Travis asked without any mumbling or grumbling. He’d gone to his knees without any defiance at all when Travis told him to warm his cock with his mouth as Travis and Ollie watched TV.

Travis petted Cole’s hair absently, enjoyed the way Cole sucked him gentle and caressed him with his tongue. Not quite a blow job.

During the next commercial Travis put his hand on the back of Cole’s head, fucked his throat while Cole gagged around him, eye watering, but beautifully submissive.

After Travis came down from the bliss of his orgasm, he stroked Cole’s hair. “You ready to behave, Cole?”

Cole practically sobbed, nodding furiously. “Yes. Oh God. Yes, please, alpha. I’ll be good. I’ll be so good. I promise.”

“And what do you promise?” Travis asked.

“Uhm—uh,” Cole’s eyes widened in panic. “Uhm. I won’t get into rap battles anymore. I won’t tweet while drunk. I promise. I swear. Please, Alpha. Please.”

Travis wasn’t sure if it was a good thing that Cole almost forgot why he was being punished at all, but he was going to let it slide. Cole had been through enough.

“Stand up.” Travis said.

Cole scrambled gracelessly up.

Travis got the key out of his pocket. “Hands behind your back.”

Cole clasped them at his back in a flash.

Travis unlocked the latch and slid the strap from around his balls first and then removed the cage from his cock.

Cole was panting already. His arms almost unclasped, but Travis gave him a warning look and he gritted his teeth and didn’t touch himself. Instead as Travis set the cage aside, all three of them watched as Cole’s red and swollen dick hardened. His chest was heaving. Tears tracking down his eyes. Pain or relief or both Travis wasn’t sure.

Travis held Cole’s hips, steadied him. He smoothed his thumb along the underside of his cock, flipped it up, checked to make sure that there were no marks or lasting damage. He fingered his balls and inspected them as well.

“Alpha,” Cole sobbed. “Please. I’m—I can’t take your touch. I’m going to come.”

“Mmm,” Travis said. He fisted his hand just under the head and stroked Cole easily, gentle. He didn’t want too much sensation all at once. “You can come, Cole. Your punishment is over. You can come.”

Cole exhaled in one great big burst and it took two and a half pumps and then Cole was coming, his release splattered all over Travis’s jeans and a little on the couch, but it wasn’t a problem. “There you go,” Travis soothed. “So good. You’re forgiven. Everything is okay.”

Cole’s all but collapsed into Travis’s arms. Travis wrapped his arms around him and Ollie got behind his back and wrapped him up too, grounded him, gave him the warmth and the love and the forgiveness he needed until he stopped crying, his body stopped shaking.

Cole nuzzled his face into Travis’s neck and at the same time arched his back into Ollie’s chest and kissed the knuckles of Ollie’s hand that was interlaced with his.

Travis rested his cheek on the top of Cole’s head. Enjoying the sweet feeling of domspace that came from the pheromones of two omegas in subspace wafting around him. Of happy, safe omegas wrapped up together. His omegas. It made him woozy with bliss. Even better than an orgasm. This peace and happiness. His omegas’ happiness. The three of them together was all he ever wanted.

Notes:

Ollie is writing n/a from the POST Human: NeX Gen album.
You really shouldn’t have someone wear a cock cage for more than a few hours the first time, but we’re suspending our disbelief here.