Chapter 3 #2
“Surprised, you mean.” Fenrir didn’t blame him.
When one thought of product from a place like the Wardrobe, their minds didn’t go toward education.
“Does it matter? Pretty sure there’s only one thing you should find useful about my mouth, and chatting like this isn’t it.
If your goal is to test the product, might I suggest we get on with it, alpha? ”
“Eager to get that virgin hole plowed?”
Fenrir almost flinched, catching himself at the last second. “I’m just doing as I’ve been taught.”
“Do they train you in this? In sex? I fail to see how they could do so properly and keep you all virgins.”
“I’m a heat virgin,” Fen corrected. “Not a virgin. Those aren’t the same.”
Omega virginity merely meant that he’d yet to experience a proper knotting during his heat. Natural heats occurred once every two or three months, depending on the person. When that happened, the body primed itself for sex, with the purpose of being bred.
For alphas, this period was called a rut.
They’d lose their senses and control over rational thought and want only to spread their seed.
They needed to knot, otherwise they’d be in extreme discomfort, and even pain.
But alphas didn’t have to be in rut to knot their bedpartners.
Most did whenever they partook in sexual intercourse.
The main difference was that pregnancies were nearly impossible during these occasions, unless the omega they were fucking was in heat.
When an omega had their cycle, or their heat, they acted much the same way as alphas.
They grew desperate and horny, and would sleep with the first viable candidate that appeared to help ease the cramping in their lower region.
Only a knot could satisfy them, the alpha pheromones released during this process through exchanged fluids balancing the influx of omega ones that built up in their systems during this time.
Fenrir couldn’t get pregnant, but his body still reacted like he could. Like he was a real omega. The result was he experienced this cycle same as all the rest, only he’d never been allowed to take an alpha knot during.
Michelle had used her alpha pheromones to help regulate him, to ensure he didn’t completely snap and destroy things or hurt himself or others, but she’d refused to let him even use knotting toys.
Heats thus far had been sheer agony, and he resented and hated her for putting him through that time after time. He’d always know she had no intention of claiming him for her own, but she’d always refused to tell him why she wouldn’t allow him to be fucked during heat.
But as bad as those experiences were, they were nothing compared to when he’d been forced to suffer from influx without her.
At the end of the day, it didn’t matter how much he hated her.
His survival was dependent on her and her pheromones.
“So you’ve been fucked before?” Oberon asked.
“Yes.” Not that Fenrir could recall those instances. They were fuzzy at best, snippets he could sometimes almost grasp onto. He knew there’d been partners who’d gotten on top of him, who’d managed to penetrate him before he’d made them suffer the consequences of that short-lived domination.
But that’d been over a year ago, almost two now, when he’d been thick in the throes of influx and more beast than man.
Did the thought of Fenrir not being completely untouched bother the alpha? That wouldn’t be a bad thing. If this alpha decided he didn’t want him anymore, they could try again with a lower bidder. Maybe land on someone more easily manipulated.
Sleeping with an alpha, taking in their pheromones, would help settle the influx within him for a time, but Michelle had warned him the crash afterward would be brutal. He’d need her if he planned on surviving it, and he if failed at this mission…
What use was a malfunctioning toy?
A pet that had to be muzzled twenty-four-seven?
She’d kept him around this long intending to mold him into a valuable asset, but if he blew this chance and made her doubt him, he’d suffer for it.
She didn’t smell anywhere near as alluring as Oberon King, yet her pheromones were the only ones that could control him.
They weren’t mated, had never slept together or been intimate at all, and the only conclusion he’d ever been able to come to as to why her scent worked when no one else’s did was because she’d saved him.
Saved him…from an experiment she’d been in charge of…
He couldn’t think too hard on it.
Despite what Oberon believed, sometimes ignorance really was bliss.
Sometimes, pretending not to see the forest for the trees was the only way to survive without going completely insane.
“Omega?”
“Many times,” he replied. “I’ve topped and bottomed.
I’m clean though. You should have access to my medical files.
They tested me before placing me at auction.
But if my body count bothers you, there are others that might be more palatable.
My mistress can be persuaded to transfer the contract to another. ”
“Would you like that?” Oberon drawled.
“Alpha?”
“Don’t think I didn’t notice you making eyes at several people in the crowd. If I had lower self-esteem, I might even think you were purposefully looking at everyone but me.”
“Of course not.” One hundred percent factual.
“If they don’t allow you to spend your heats with a physical partner, do they provide you with toys?” The change in topic came suddenly.
“Yes.”
“So you know what it’s like to be filled when in heat after all.”
“It isn’t the same.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because…” Fenrir blew out a breath. “I’m not left satisfied.”
“Your heats hurt?”
“The entire time.”
“So you’re allowed toys, but not the knotting kind. And your mistress allows this? Allows you to be in pain?”
His lips twisted and he didn’t catch the disgust in time to mask it. “Product isn’t pack.”
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing.”
The alpha sighed. “You’ll tell me later. For now, you’re right. We should begin.”
“What should I do?” He’d almost blown it just now. The last thing he could afford was to come off disloyal to the Wardrobe.
“Touch yourself.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. I want you to masturbate for me.”