ALEX #2
I spend the next half hour on my laptop, writing emails to my professors to explain my absence over the next few days.
Every omega is legally entitled to two weeks of paid leave each year that he can take whenever he needs it, and no one is allowed to deny it.
Any employer who tried would have to face a lawsuit he would never win and an army of lawyers from the Omega Red Line Agency, owned by my, probably, uncle, Sebastien Lowen, and they would destroy everybody in court.
Then I read articles about how to handle heat alone, pushing through a long list of suggestions, all of which emphasize that some will work and some simply will not.
Many people recommend long, warm baths, others calming teas, others cold compresses, and still others suggest watching depressing movies, yes, even advice that absurd.
The basic recommendation, of course, is to buy a set of different dildos. The most sensible advice they give is to invest in models that can expand at the knot, since apparently those have the highest success rate when it comes to calming the waves.
So when the second wave hits a few hours later, I take out the medium dildo, the one that can expand its knot to adjustable sizes. I attach it to the wall in the bathroom, spread a towel on the floor, get on my knees and start pushing myself onto it on all fours.
The orgasms come one after another, my hole tightening and pulsing around the toy, yet this is exactly the moment when I start to understand why omegas hate going through heat alone.
Everything about it feels mechanical, task-oriented, emptied of what actually matters. When I finally expand the knot on the dildo, an uncomfortable feeling expands inside me as well.
There is something crucial missing in all of this, because I am kneeling on the bathroom floor with my cheek pressed to a towel and my ass in the air, and the silence around me feels endless, there are no hands stroking my skin, no warmth of a solid, powerful, virile body pressed close, no quiet words meant to soothe, no sense that I matter to anyone at all.
I end up staring at the bathroom tiles while the dildo inside me remains nothing more than that, a soulless toy, and the truth is that I am utterly miserable. The release is physical, yes, but not emotional, and that part, as it seems, is just as important during heat.
Eventually I get tired of the position and my knees start to ache, so I detach the dildo but leave it inside me. Moving in a wide, awkward gait like a crab, I make my way to the kitchen to get something to drink.
Outside, the wind is howling with real force, they’ve predicted a tropical storm passing close to the city, and at one point I hear one of the flowerpots lined along the wall crash over.
I lift the blinds and look out into the garden.
It is dark, and I do not have any proper outdoor lighting installed, only a few cheap solar lamps that offer barely any glow.
I can still see the wind bending the arborvitae hard.
I hear another pot fall. The storm is shaking the entire city.
I wrap myself in a robe, open the side door that leads into the garden, although calling it a garden might be generous, since there are only a few dozen feet of grass around the house.
Still, I arranged a row of flowerpots along the house with different plants, and I would rather not have them destroyed by the bad weather.
When I step onto the grass, the wind is so strong that I can barely hold my balance. I quickly start moving the pots, grouping them tightly around the largest one so it can shield the rest, leaving the two that already fell for later. I will clean up when the storm calms down.
I also notice something else, a long cable swinging above the fence.
It looks like the one that connects the cameras.
Did the wind pull it loose? Very possible, especially since I can see fallen branches leaning against the fence, blown over from the trees growing behind my property on a strip of land belonging to the neighboring housing complex, a series of, elegant apartment buildings.
I turn around and head back toward the side door when I realize something is wrong.
I step inside, and I smell it immediately.
Someone is here.
Oswald!
He is standing in the middle of the kitchen, staring at me. He must have slipped inside through the open door while I was outside moving the pots, and the roaring wind drowned out every sound.
"What the fuck are you doing here!?" I explode. "Get out right now!"
But then it hits me that the house must be practically filled with the scent of my heat.
There isn’t an alpha in the world with a working sense of smell who could stay indifferent to something like that, and I see the change on Oswald’s face immediately.
Something animalistic flashes through it, something hard to describe, his eyes seem to redden slightly, his features sharpen, becoming almost feral.
"You’re in heat," he numbly states the fact. He doesn’t sound like himself, as if something speaks through him, some force stronger than his own will, that powerful piece of our biology inherited from aliens.
A second later I understand what is about to happen, so I turn and sprint toward the bedroom, the only room with a lock and where my phone is, but if I think I can outrun an alpha, life corrects my naivety instantly as Oswald makes one single leap.
It’s fueled by that animal part of his nature and catches me right at the bedroom threshold.
A desperate scream rips out of me because I realize there is no option for anyone to save me now, my stalker cannot get into the house, the main door is extremely reinforced and secured with a code, no one can hear me through these walls, the windows are sealed tight with shutters…
Oswald’s hands clamp around my waist; he lifts me effortlessly as if I weigh nothing, takes three more steps and shoves me onto the bed.
"This is going to be heat rape if you force yourself on me now, Oswald!" I scream. "I’ll destroy you, I’ll ruin you, I’ll call every lawyer at Omega Red Line Agency, they’ll put guys like you behind bars for half a century!" I’m screaming like a madman.
And I fight, but it’s like trying to fight a pair of steel pliers, an alpha’s strength is many times greater than an omega’s, there is no way I can break free.
Oswald tears the robe off me. He looks frenzied and is probably already in rut. His eyes burn red.
"No! No!" I scream, and I think I hear some kind of thud, something slamming, a sound that shouldn’t be there… but since Oswald doesn’t react to it, I convince myself I must have imagined it.
I see him unzipping his pants and his cock springs free, hard and ready to force itself into me.
Panic completely overtakes me, I scream so loudly my throat genuinely hurts, but Oswald clearly trusts the window insulation because he doesn’t even try to silence me.
With all I have, I keep fighting; I try to push him away, but how do you push away a steel wall? And Oswald is not small; he probably has about fifty extra pounds around his waist, so he’s heavy and… relentless.
He shoves me to the side and that’s when he realizes I have a dildo inside me. His pupils dilate even more. He immediately grabs the base to yank it out.
"It’s a knotted dildo!" I scream. "You’ll tear me if you do that, you’ll tear me apart!"
It’s the only thing that seems to reach him even a little, he presses the button on the head and the air deflates instantly, then he rips it out of me and I use that moment to punch him in the face with everything I have.
I manage to split his lip, but he doesn’t react at all, as if it didn’t hurt him, and probably didn't; his rut makes sure of it, the frenzy too deep to break, he grabs my thighs and spreads them wide.
Did I hear a thud?
Again, I scream at the top of my lungs. I always thought that if I ever ended up near any alpha while I was in heat, I wouldn’t care who he was, I’d just want him to fuck me, I’d heard the stories about omegas who hated someone and once the heat came, they just… didn’t care.
That is not true for me.
The opposite happens. I feel overwhelming disgust, revulsion, resentment, anger, even pain pulsing from his touch. I don’t want him, under no circumstances. I don’t want him inside me.
An even louder thud reaches my ear.
He rises above me, aiming his cock at my entrance.
I feel my anger pushing out of my body, swallowing me whole.
"Nobody touches me but him!"
Something flashes in my head, a strange shadow of incomprehensible fury…
A fragment of darkness, a fragment of shock, a fragment of understanding that something is wrong with me, something that has always made me different from other people, some Dark Secret hidden inside me from the very beginning.
A tearing inside me, in the very root of my soul, that can create a void.
A void emptied of life.
I lift my hands, and just before he presses his dick against my entrance, I wrap my hands around his neck, and my body does something only one kind of creature can do, a kind I never believed was real.
I drain all his life energy.
It happens almost in a split second in a single powerful flash of dark purple energy.
Oswald’s body convulses and arches, even in the dim light I can see his eyes fade from red to gray, suddenly empty, his skin also turns gray as if the life is evaporating from it, his whole body cools rapidly, his entire life force floods into mine…
It feels like an unbelievable, ecstatic wave of energy, like a thousand strange orgasms at once, like a surge of vitality that could last me for decades… but I let it flow through, dissolve, and fade.
Oswald goes still, and his body collapses onto me.
Limp.
Dead.
Only when deep silence fills the room does something begin to reach me, as if I’m waking up from a strange trance.
There is another heartbeat in the room.
Someone is standing in the doorway.