Archive of Our Own

“Hey, Pretty Boy. Hotch wants you up in his office,” Derek said and he passed by his desk.

“...What’s that look for?” Spencer looked up and softly laughed while he scratched his vest. Derek was blushing, grinning, looking almost uncomfortable.

“Nothin’, just go on, he’s waiting for you.”

Well, that’s interesting. They don’t have an active case, he’s not working on any cold ones, and performance reviews aren’t until next quarter.

Spencer knocked softly on Hotch’s door and waited to be invited inside.

Strauss was sitting across from his desk. Spencer paled. Is he in trouble?

“Sit down, Dr. Reid,” she said, motioning to the chair next to hers. “We have a bit to discuss with you. Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble.”

He must be letting off pheromones, he thinks, and he’s right, as soft, nervous waves wafted into the office.

Piercing stares sliced into him as he sat.

“It’s come to the bureau's attention that you’ve been having some trouble lately with your pheromones.”

Spencer shriveled down into his chair.

“We haven’t had an Omega employed at the FBI for quite some time, as you’re well aware, so the policies regarding your kind are a bit outdated, if not nonexistent,” she said.

Spencer looked to Hotch who was nodding in agreement and he’s never been more embarrassed in his entire life. Even through college when he was just starting his heats and would have to run from the classroom dripping slick because they were still irregular, and hit him all at once.

“I think I’ve been managing just fine…” he whispered to his hands, wringing nervously in his lap. “I complete all my work, I’ve improved in the field, um, I’ve gotten better with all the, um, Alpha pheromones…”

“The same can’t be said for the Alphas on the team, and on this floor,” Hotch stated.

Strauss clicked her nails on a paper sitting on the desk. “These are some new regulations we’re trialing, effective immediately.”

When his mom sold him to the BAU, he thought he would excel due to his high intelligence and interest in psychology. He didn’t want to let her down or do a bad job with the high price they paid for him.

“Regulations…?” Spencer gulped. “I-I don’t think–”

“Now, don’t be difficult. This is for your own good, and for those of your team. Be a good Omega, Dr. Reid,” she said. “Aaron will be in charge going forward concerning the new program.”

Spencer turned to Hotch, who nodded. “We’ll be starting with milking.”

“Milking?” he gasped. A rush of scent escaped him exposing his humiliation and a sweet tinge of arousal at the suggestion. “That’s not necessary, really.”

“Dr. Reid, I’ve received numerous complaints from members of this organization on the way you have been touching yourself publicly, not to mention the wet spots on your shirts and pants. Frankly, I thought as a highly educated Dr, you would have been able to have a bit more discretion, but it’s clear that the Omega status takes precedence in this case.”

“I wasn’t touching myself! T-The areolas can become itchy...” He blushes. “It wasn’t provocative.”

“Reid, no arguing,” Hotch said with a stern look.

Strauss nodded. “You may not understand how it comes off to the Alphas, Spencer. They don’t need to ‘itch’ themselves.”

Spencer’s face turned a deep shade of red while he wished he could be anywhere but that office.

“Anyway, Aaron, I’ll leave you to it. Dr. Reid, please make sure to read through these when you’re finished.”

Spencer let out an undignified squeak as she left, and when he turned back to Hotch, his eyes were boring into him.

“I take no pleasure in this,” he said. A hot, sedating wash of Alpha scent surrounded him and he realized Hotch scented. He felt pliant, slumped back in his chair, and smiled.

“Get up, please, Spencer,” he instructed.

Spencer complied easily with the Alpha still fogging his mind, and he found his hands mindlessly itching at his sweater vest. Damn it!

“See, that’s exactly what the problem is,” Hotch sighed. He rounded his desk and standing so confident and tall in that always pressed dark blue suit, Spencer couldn’t help but crumble under his Alphaness.

“I’m sorry…” He puts his hand down to his side but his nipples were aching and he wanted to touch them so badly. His cock and hole were aching too, but he trained himself not to touch those in public.

The scenting wore off moments later, and he went back to pleading because the last thing he wanted was to be milked by his boss. He could barely push past the shame of milking himself in the privacy of his own home, where he blushed through the entire procedure and put it off until the last possible moment.

That’s when he noticed something new in the office.

“No!” Spencer screamed.

“Spencer, would you like to be scented for this, or will you be a good Omega?”

“I’m not, no! No! Hotch, please, no!”

Then he slumped against a bookcase as Hotch’s thick scent hit him again.

“Spencer, please disrobe.”

He still squeaked, his heart racing, and the commanding in his voice made him want to obey, even if he knew it was the pheromones, and the strength of powerful Alpha ones at that. His fingers worked on his buttons, and he shed layer after layer of his thick, baggy sweaters until he was standing naked in a pile of clothes.

A blush spread from his face, down his neck, and through his chest making his already flushed nipples appear even more rosy.

Aaron wanted to rip him apart. Not all Omegas came so beautiful, but Spencer took on all the most alluring classic Omega traits from his high cheekbones and big brown eyes to his long, lithe limbs, looking elegant and graceful. If Hotch wasn't already aware of how clumsy this Omega was, or the fact that it dressed itself in such unbecoming clothing, he would have thought it to be a very exquisite, fine Omega at first glance.

The paleness of his skin was almost translucent, and the softness akin to that of silk. His hair sat long and golden brown on his shoulders in perfect fashion. Gorgeous.

“Let’s get you strapped up,” he said in a controlled tone.

Spencer‘s eyes went wide and dilated. It took another scenting to make him comply, but soon he was raising his arms over his head waiting for his wrists to be locked in.

“I can do this at home, Hotch, I can, I promise, please,” he whimpered.

Spencer couldn’t move his arms or legs, hooked up the deceive he first balked at: a milking tower. The device was made for multipurpose milking of the Omega by securing their legs wide apart, and arms straight above them, with hookups for tubes and their respective machines, used to stimulate production.

He was already leaking slick down his legs. He’d never been so humiliated in his entire life. The BAU was supposed to be a regular job, and the first year went by so smoothly, he thought. There were a few slip-ups with irregular heats, and apparently others were complaining about the way he acted in public, but overall he would say that he really was no different than any of the Alphas. He did his work, did great work, and wasn’t distracted.

Hotch looked him up and down, then tested the strength of the straps, and when he was satisfied he gave the barest of smiles. “I’ll call in the team before we begin.”

“Team?!” Spencer shrieked. “No! No!”

“Omega,” Hotch warned.

“Hotch, no. Please, I can… I can take this, but not in front of them, please. I’m begging you, Hotch, p-please.”

Hotch barked out the office door for the team to gather, and they started to file in one by one.

All eyes on him.

Spencer started to cry.

“Oh, Pretty Boy,” Morgan cooed. Morgan never used that tone around him before. Like he was talking to a brainless thing.

Spencer wasn’t brainless. He had an IQ of 187 for god’s sake. But he was an omega first and foremost, apparently.

“Poveretta,” Rossi frowned. “It’s okay.”

“Take a seat, everyone,” Hotch directed. “Starting today, we’re implementing a Milking routine for Spencer.

Prentiss grinned and leaned forward on Hotch’s couch, next to JJ. “Wow, finally. He was getting a bit …pungent, you know?”

Hotch nodded only subtly, but Morgan groaned. “Tell me about it. You guys don’t have to room with him.”

The team began to chatter about Spencer’s scents and behaviors when Hotch finally shushed the room.

“I have experience with this particular equipment, so I’ll be showing everyone how to operate it if need be. I’ll be primarily in charge of his milkings, but if the situation arises that I'm unavailable, then someone can take over.”

JJ spoke up softly, “Do I need to be here? As a Beta?”

Spencer locked eyes with his closest friend, and then she turned away, walking out the door. Was it a blessing or a curse, he couldn't decide, but now he was trapped, strapped, in the small space with four strong Alphas.

Slick trickled down his inner thighs.

“Alright. Let’s begin,” Hotch said in his usual business tone. “When you have the Omega strapped into the tower, you may have to scent it in order to get it stimulated enough for production if it isn’t already leaking.”

Morgan, Rossi, and Prentiss were leaning back, nodding as their eyes roamed over Spencer's flushed body. He didn’t need any more scenting, Hotch’s pheromones had already turned him on enough for him to be leaking… everywhere.

Spencer tried fruitlessly to wiggle away from Hotch’s touch as he flicked his nipple and a droplet of milk fell onto a waterproof mat below him. “H-Hotch!” he whined.

Another wave of scent, distinctly Hotch’s, washed over him and he fell limp in the straps. Fingers, Hotch’s, he hoped, were squeezing and massaging his nipples until he felt his milk dripping down his chest.

His face burned in shame.

He was starting to come to when a cold rubber circle pressed around each sensitive nipple. All eyes were on him, then Hotch flipped the switch and he jolted forward, back arched, crying high-pitched and desperate.

His nipples were already overly sensitive from the Alpha pheromones that he wasn’t used to getting during his private milkings at home, but on top of that the machine was using pressure far higher than he was used to.

At home, he set his to the lowest possible setting and could barely keep himself together. By the end, he’d usually cum at least twice, cleaning everything up with a heavy dose of shame.

Now, he came only seconds after Hotch flipped the switch.

“The Omega will likely ejaculate,” Hotch said. He grabbed a clear plastic instrument looking quite like a condom before it was unfurled to full size. “You’ll want to apply the condom to its penis. Since Spencer is the only omega in the building, we’ve purchased all the supplies in his size. Omegamart gave us a company discount.”

“I won’t lie, I imagined it a bit bigger,” Morgan laughed.

“Really? I was thinking button-like,” Prentiss grinned.

Spencer closed his eyes, feeling his body flush. Hotch grabbed his dick and rolled the condom on, cold and sticky.

“Because of the lack of length, you need to apply a layer of skin-safe glue before it goes on.”

Spencer whimpered while Hotch squeezed his little cock for good measure, making sure that the condom would stay in place, and he shivered and came.

Rossi chuckled from his chair to the left.

Cum slid down the tube connected to his condom into a little jar, safe and sound.

“Please, please,” Spencer begged. It was difficult at this point to differentiate between begging to be let go and begging for more. The pulsing pressure on his nipples was enough to send him into hysterics, but now the gentle sucking pressure on his cock was making that weep too.

“As you can see, he was long overdue for a milking.” Hotch pointed to the two bottles which his milk was pouring into. They were already half full and his production wasn’t weaning at all. If anything, it seemed that more milk was gushing from his nipples as more time passed.

Under the suction cups, they’d grown puffy and red, and they were painfully sensitive to the touch. Each pull of suction left him shaking and crying with stimulation.

Hotch shook one of the cups and Spencer shouted, eyes flashing open to look up into hotch’s eyes. “Aahhh–”

Then Hotch scented and Spencer’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as a rush of arousal coursed through him.

“Alpha,” he whimpered, looking up at Hotch still. A moan escaped his lips as the pumping continued and he came into the condom.

His jar was half full.

“Aw, he’s confused,” Prentiss cooed.

“Piccola mucca,” Rossi spoke up. “It’s what we used to call the Omegas who enjoyed their milking a bit too much. It means Little Cows.”

“Little Cow.” Morgan grinned. “That’s got a ring to it.”

All Spencer heard was a jumble of words, some peeking through here or there, but he was too engrossed in the sensation rolling through his body to concentrate. His chest felt as if it were on fire, and his cock was pulsing with an itchy sort of ache that came with cumming too much.

He wanted to reach out and touch his Alpha, but he couldn’t move his hands. They seemed to be stuck above his head. How he yearned for Alpha’s touch, his strong grip, and his thick cock to fill him up.

All he needed was a hard knot to sit on and he’d be satisfied.

“Since Spencer didn’t keep up milking himself, I don’t suppose he’ll fill up this much once he’s on a regular schedule, but if need be, you can swap out the containers.” Hotch unhooked the two large bottles full to the brim with Spencer's milk and replaced them with empty ones. Morgan was eyeing them with interest as Hotch lugged them up onto his desk.

“And who’s going to get that?”

Hotch pulled out a permanent marker and drew in big, bold, uniform letters, ‘Spencer’s Milk’.

“Strauss is in the process of having a refrigerator installed in my office for storage.”

“Oh.” Morgan’s eyes slid back to Spencer, whimpering and crying on the tower. Milk was flowing generously from his engorged nipples and his long legs were shining with slick. Under him, the slick mats were almost completely saturated and due for a change.

“Alpha, Alpha,” Spencer whispered with need.

“Right here, sweet thing,” Hotch said evenly when he caressed his cheek. Spencer leaned into the small touch and started to purr while nuzzling his face into his palm.

“Alphaaa.”

“Shh, little cow.” Hotch scented him. He turned to the rest of his team, and with an air of unit-chief command said, “Back to work, now. Dave, thank you.”

Dave smirked before he got up from his chair. “I don’t suppose this next part is part of the procedure?”

Prentiss and Morgan’s heads snapped back at the remark with a hot fire in their eyes. Both had been restraining themselves for the past hour and they wanted nothing more than to take their team-Omega.

“Out, all of you,” Hotch barked, but Rossi caught the hint of a smirk.

Finally, Hotch was alone with Spencer. And took a deep whiff of the thick, potent smell of his sex. Spencer’s slick was disgustingly sweet in an incredibly arousing manner.

Sweet like honey, sweet like pure sugar.

Hotch groaned. Spencer was barely aware of him when he came up and took a long, indulgent sniff of the scent gland on his neck, and finished it off with a lick, leaving behind his own pheromones that Spencer’s skin would burn in reaction to.

“My sweet boy,” he rumbled. “You’ve been such a good little cow for your Alpha.”

Spencer stirred into consciousness and he rustled against his restraints. “Alpha! Alpha!”

He smirked at Spencer’s mindless enthusiasm. “You enjoy when I milk you, Omega?”

“Alphaaa,” Spencer cried. “Yes, Alpha, yes, yes!”

“Are you ready for your knot, Sweetie?”

Spencer gasped and fought between purring and begging, “Knot, Alpha! Knot! Please, Alpha, please! Knot!”

“Let’s get these off you,” he murmured.

Hotch turned off the machine and the pumping came to a halt, then released the suction cups on Spencer’s nipples. He pulled them off with a wet pop, and under his skin was soaking wet and flushed red, puffy with inflammation, and twitching with nerves. Even the air, Hotch supposed, was too much for his sensitive skin to handle.

Next, he popped off the condom and undid the straps on his ankles. Spencer immediately wrapped his long legs around Hotch’s waist and whined for his knot.

Hotch couldn’t deny how alluring it was to see Spencer completely lost in his lust, red faced and aching with need. He dropped his pants and thrust up into Spencer’s drenched hole while Spencer screamed high-pitched like an Omega in heat.

Spencer’s legs tightened around him as if to trap him in, thin and weak as they were. He struggled against the wrist restraints, but his arms stayed above his head, unmoving. “Alpha!”

Milk was leaking from his nipples and dripping onto the map while Hotch fucked him thoroughly. His entire body was thrumming with overwhelming sensations and as Hotch picked up the pace, his puffy, wet nipples and button sized cock started flopping up and down with every hard thrust, sending his milk and cum everywhere.

“Good boy,” Hotch growled. “Sloppy, wet boy. Alpha will knot you good.”

“Please, please, please, Alpha–”

Spencer’s wet, red eyes found Hotch’s and he tried to push forward, restrained to the tower, making needy motions with his mouth.

“Do you want a kiss, Spencer? Hm, sweetie?”

Spencer gave a pitiful whine.

“Shh.” Hotch leaned forward and kissed Spencer chaste at first, then deepened with tongue, diving confidently into his mouth. He pulled back and Spencer was panting and wide eyed with adoration.

Hotch pinched his nipples while he was distracted and he let out a pained howl. Milk squirted onto his suit jacket, but he anticipated that much. There were several extras in the closet that he would be keeping there now indefinitely.

“You can take it, my little cow,” he said sternly. Spencer screamed again when Hotch twisted them both, and he arched his back, legs tightening around Hotch’s waist.

“Please, Alpha, please,” he begged.

Hotch’s knot was swelling rapidly, and he squirted Spencer’s nipples a few more times watching him squirm until it was full size, then pressed against Spencer’s rim.

Before it was even inside, Spencer started shaking and crying with anticipation. Slowly, as Hotch pushed inside him, his rim stretched incredibly wide to accommodate him. He was sweating and moaning, his skin drenched with lust, and he came onto his belly.

“We’re not even halfway there,” Hotch growled, and pushed in hard. Spencer trembled and yelped. He’d never been so stretched out before, not even on big fake knots. His toes were curling in superb pleasure, almost too much to handle.

The second half was easier, sucking Hotch’s knot up into his soft, stretched out wet hole like it belonged there. “Alphaaaaaa!”

Spencer came again as he shivered and clenched around the knot. It was deep inside this time, a warm, intense pleasure as opposed to the sharp, overwhelming overstimulated pleasure before, and this time nothing came out of his cock.

He groaned and tossed back his head only to feel Alpha’s hand wiping the hair from his sweaty forehead. “Shhh, rest, omega.”

Hotch unlatched Spencer’s wrists and he flopped forward into his arms. He brought him over to his desk and sat down with Spencer in his lap, still locked together by his fully swollen knot.

After that entire endeavor, Spencer was tired out and sleeping soundly even as Hotch wiped off his chest and stomach, and as much as his thighs as he was able in that position. In the bottom drawer of his desk was a blanket that he pulled out, just for the occasion, and wrapped it around Spencer’s naked body. He purred and nuzzled into him happily.

Paperwork flew by for the rest of the evening with a content omega in his lap. Spencer woke a few times, half aware, kissing and licking before Hotch scented him back to sleep.

It would, in time, increase Spencer’s mood and sense of safety to be properly handled. Hotch could tell that his omega instincts were on high alert from the backup in his body, both milk and sex, which if not tended to, led to anxiety in the average omega.

Regular milkings and knottings would do him a world of good.