Page 4 of Breeding Clinic

“Yes.” I stand and follow her, wheeling my suitcase behind me. When my head spins, I lean my shoulder against the wall. I need to lie down.

“All of our heat attendants are betas,” she says, tapping her keycard to a black square by the door. It beeps as a light turns green. The door’s deadbolt unlocks. “They work in twelve hour shifts so you’ll have several throughout your stay but we try to keep you with the same group. There are scent free toiletries in the bathroom. If you need a heat aid, new ones are in the nightstand. The charge will be added to your bill once the safety seal is broken.”

She waves a hand to the TV mounted on the wall and the small desk where a computer could go. I feel bad for omegas who have to try and work through their heat. “There’s cable if you’re up to watching TV and you’re welcome to use the wi-fi. Meals will be delivered regularly if you’re up to eating. If you need anything, use this intercom button. The door will be kept locked for your safety.”

The room is nicer than I thought it would be. It’s more like a hotel room than a hospital room. There’s a queen-size bed in the center with fresh white sheets and a plethora of pillows in different sizes. The duvet looks thick and fluffy. There are a bunch of laundered blankets displayed on a rack for nesting. I brought my own, but I appreciate their thoroughness.

The door on the side leads to a small bathroom. The only thing the room lacks is a window with a view. They’ve put a pretty stained glass film on the windows to let in light but provide privacy too. Abstract paintings of swatches of colorhang on the wall. I roll my suitcase to the dresser and leave it to unpack later when I have a lull.

My thighs clench again and I realize I’m fidgeting. I tighten my fists to keep from relieving this awful, all consuming need with her still in the room.

She puts on a pair of blue gloves and opens a small package, then peels the paper backing off a sticker the size of my palm. “This is the monitor,” she says. The sticker goes in the center of my chest below my throat.

The movement brings her close and a fog clouds my thoughts. All I notice is how shiny and pretty her hair is. How her fitted scrubs cling to her small waist and breasts. Her scent is a subtle floral blend underneath her fading null wash soap. If she drops her hand any lower than my sternum, I’m going to embarrass myself by moaning. The brief contact of her fingers against my hot skin is wonderful.

“There.” She steps back and smiles. “All done.”

“Thank you,” I choke out. “I’d like to be alone for a bit.”

She nods and heads to the door. “Of course.” Before the door closes behind her, she pokes her head back in and smiles. “Good luck!”

I smile back until the door closes, an electronic locking sound buzzing. Then I shove my hand under the waistband of my stretchy pants and panties. I’m soaked, my arousal thick. My nipples tighten and rub against my sports bra. A sudden flush of heat leaves me panting.

It’s so fucking hot. I’m burning up from the inside out and desperate for a cock. My middle finger rubs circles around my swollen clit and a shallow orgasm shudders through me. My pussy clenches repeatedly around nothing. It’s enough to sate me so I can unpack, but it’s a drop in the ocean when it comes to the needs of my heat.

I shove my sweaty hair away from my face, not caring thatI’m spreading slick everywhere. There’s no such thing as pride during a heat. Not when omegas become mewling, cum-drenched creatures.

Hold it together, I tell myself. It’s only day one. My heats average about four.

With the orgasm, my head clears a little. I have enough time to unpack my suitcase into the dresser and add my blankets to the bed. I’ll build my nest later when I have the urge. For now, my only focus is on finding my vibrator.

I pull the hot pink vibrator with the clit teaser and knotted base from my bag and plug its charging cord into the outlet by the bed. I’m naked in seconds. My sweat-soaked clothes are tossed onto the floor and forgotten.

The bed squeaks as I climb onto it and lie on my back. The moment the bulbous tip of the vibrator touches my pussy, I breathe a sigh of relief. It bottoms out inside me with a single thrust. Pulling it almost all the way out, I do that again. Working it in and out of me. I don’t need the vibration function to come again.

My walls clamp down on hard silicone, and this time I let out the moan I’ve been holding. Are they watching me? Listening? Does my heart rate spike with every fluttering orgasm? The idea of a room full of betas crowded around a monitor makes my clit throb. Are they really not watching the cameras?

Omegas are made for crowds. For the safety of packs, the larger the better. The idea of an audience turns me on.

I spread my thighs wide and pull the vibrator out, plunging it back in again. It hits my cervix and my toes curl. I’ve always loved it deep and fast. Rough. There’s something so primal and delicious about being rutted. Being pinned down and bred. The cold drip of cum down my thighs.

My toy is a poor substitute for a real alpha. I save the knotting feature until I can’t take it anymore. Until the way itknocks against my cervix isn’t enough. Desire swells inside my core, large and demanding. I want a knot.Need it.

It’s too early to give into that urge. Instead, I edge myself. I flick the vibration setting on to my favorite, the deep pulse. The vibrator kicks to life inside me. Both the head and clit ticklers buzz. Another shallow orgasm rips through me. I throw my head back and use my free hand to play with my breast. Pinch my taut nipple until it aches.

My thighs squeeze against the toy and I rock, using the momentum to drive the vibrator in deeper. Three orgasms. Four. When the next one won’t come no matter how much I whine or shove the toy in deeper, that’s when I finally hit the knotting button. The base of the toy swells, pulling in air. It inflates inside me, the pressure growing right against my g-spot.

Eyes closed and pussy dripping, I come on the artificial knot. My walls squeeze down on inflated silicone, and the worst of the wave of heat passes.

A shudder rolls through me as I turn the vibrator off and lie there, my toy still buried deep. Sated, at least for a while. I drag one of my blankets over myself and close my eyes. Rest and sleep will come in fits and spurts for the next few days.

With a hand over my belly, I think of the baby I hope to make.

It’sthe emptiness that wakes me. Sitting up and rubbing my eyes, I blink at the unfamiliar room until I remember where I am. My vibrator slipped out while I slept once the safety mechanism disengaged the knot. The analog clock tells me I slept for two hours.

A tray with saran-wrap-covered gelatin, a cup of fruit cocktail, and a chilled protein water sits on the floor by my door. Someone dropped it off while I napped. I take advantage of my brief moment of clarity to crack the safety seal on the protein water and drink it down. The thought of solid food turns my stomach so I leave the gelatin and fruit untouched.

There’s a small white cup with a pill in it that I didn’t notice at first. More ovulation medicine? I swallow the pill with the last of my protein water, then go into the bathroom to pee and clean up. My thighs are crusty with dried slick.

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