#spoonfed

November - February

These are some BTS photographs of Joseph Mawle from a film he starred in a few years back called, "Spoonfed", about multiple sclerosis (MS).

I found these from one of the writer/director's facebook albums.

Summary: Killian Jones wakes up from a year-long coma into a world shaken by a plague that caused billions of casualties and turned the survivors into one of three types: Alphas, sexual predators, Betas, human beings as they were, and Omegas, sexual prey.

In his total misfortune, Killian has turned into an Omega and upon waking up he gets immediately sold as a sexual slave to Eloise Gardener, a sadistic Alpha who takes special interest in him.

But he’s soon to learn that even when he escapes the physical prison she keeps him in, his mind is still trapped…

~ Word count for Ch. 2: ~3.8k

Read from the beginning: AO3 link Make sure you’ve read and are okay with the notes from the first chapter before you continue reading!

~

Sudden, blinding light shook Killian from an uncomfortable sleep. He blinked at the flashlight hovering right over his face, trying to focus enough to see what was happening.

He heard a soft clanking sound and his arm fell from where it was handcuffed at the metal ring, then a soft click and the gag was removed from his mouth.

"Can you get up on your own?" he heard. It must have been that woman... the one who bought him.

No. No, no, fuck that. He wasn't an object to be traded around.

His eyes finally focused and he could see her leaning over the trunk. It was dark outside, but still warm enough for him, naked still as he was.

"Do you want some help?" she asked.

"Fuck you," he said, voice weak and sleepy.

"Oh, I see you've stepped up from spitting on people's faces. Good pet."

"Shut up!" he tried to shout, but it came out so ridiculously weak that he wasn't surprised to see her laugh.

“Now, do you wanna get up on your own or should I have my men carry you like a pet, pet?”

He could feel his blood start to boil. Who did that woman think she was? “How kind of you,” he said. “I can handle myself.”

“How willing.” She stepped back, giving him space to get out.

He grunted softly as he moved to sit, throwing his feet out. He frowned when he saw the gravel on the ground. “Can I at least have a pair of shoes?” he said, looking at her.

She smiled, then after a moment of silence, said, “You're an Omega. You don't get to wear anything. Now get out.”

“What's that even supposed to mean?” he said, managing to contain his anger at her tone and words.

“Don't worry. I'm willing to answer all your questions, which, considering how long you were unconscious, they must be a lot. But you have to get out first.”

He stared at her unwavering face for a moment. He had no doubt that by the end of that day she'd somehow have forced him to sleep with her, the behaviour she and the other “customers” presented at the abandoned school was a clear indication of what they did with the slaves they got. Maybe at least, he could get in her good graces in a way until he could use them for an escape. So he sighed and pushed himself off the trunk, leaning back on it for a bit until he found his balance again, the hard gravel pressing against his bare soles.

At least it seemed that with every time he woke up he felt progressively better.

“I have plenty of doctors at my disposal,” the woman said. “If anything feels wrong at any time, don't hesitate to tell me so.” She moved her free hand to caress his chin and he consciously had to think to flinch away. “Now follow me.”

~