Stormy Night Publications Publishers of BDSM and Kink Erotica
Prologue
The man who’d taken forcible control of her life was about to spank her over her desk.
In her own office.
At work.
And she was going to let him.
It wasn’t as if she had any choice. Not really. He was an Alpha. She was an Omega.
Of all the things she’d expected to be doing during her workday—reports, personnel evals, following up on the absolute tsunami of emails in her inbox—sprawling ass-naked across her desk, her panties stretched half-mast between the span of her thighs, balancing on the slutty, strappy high heels Adam insisted she now wear every day to work was not one of them.
He’d made her wait like that for several minutes, his strong hands fondling her buttocks, fingertips kneading the flesh in a way that almost made her moan even though it was just past the point of discomfort.
Finally, giving her ass several slaps, he’d retrieved the heavy rubber strap he made her keep in the lower right hand drawer of her office desk.
She hated that strap. Only a handful of strokes from it was like getting fifty from his hand.
Moving back behind her, he waited another minute, the room utterly silent aside from the faint background noise of the main floor down the hall from her office.
“Raise your bottom higher, slut.” He was somewhere behind her, voice growling, his presence—and the knowledge of what he was about to do to her—making her tremble with fear and mortification.
And lust.
“I-I can’t! That’s as much as—”
“You can do better than that. No—up on your toes. Legs as far apart as you can. I know having your ass whipped gets your cunt wet. I need to be able to see it drip as I give you what you need—and deserve.”
“Adam, please! Not so loud,” she hissed, mortified. “They’ll hear!”
“You say that as if it’s my problem.” The strap tapped her hip. “Now, up. Do as you’re told, or this is going to go worse for you. If you keep up with this misbehavior, I’ll be adding your use of my name to your tally. You know what I expect.”
“I… I’m sorry, sir! I-I forgot.”
It was one of her many rules, of course. She hadn’t really agreed to it, not officially, but he’d told her he expected it. She could no longer use his name. It was to be sir from now on. Even in polite company.
Just the thought of that had her face flaming even hotter than it already was.
“If you’re a good girl and take your punishment quietly and obediently, we can get this over with quickly. Then you can go about the rest of your workday.” He laid the strap across the lower curve of her bottom, tapping it gently, as if to measure the range. Then it pulled away. “But you need this reminder, girl. Ready?”
“I don’t need a remin—”
The strap landed across her ass with a loud crack, the sound unmistakable. It was impossible that other people down the hallway wouldn’t be able to hear it.
The sting and thud of it wasn’t instant agony—though it did hurt—but the power of it shocked her, freezing her in place over her desk for a moment.
Her bottom began to tingle, the skin growing tight, the pain sharp, but fading already.
This was only the beginning though.
“What do you say?” His voice was low, calm, but the menace in the tone was clear.
“One… sir.”
The strap whipped in again, this time across the center of her bottom, the length of it stretching across both cheeks.
She gasped as the sting sank in. “Two, sir!”
“Starting to feel it?”
“Yes, sir.” She hated having to admit it. She hated that she didn’t have the strength to tell him there was no way he was going to be whipping her ass right there in her own office.
A third stroke, harder than the first two, seared the upper curve of her ass. She jerked, waving her hips side to side as she bit off a yelp.
“T-three, sir!”
Deep—and intensifying—heat now sank further into her buttocks. The outside of her right hip was already beginning to throb, too, the tip of the strap biting in particularly hard there.
“Keep your position, slut. Stop moving those hips. You’ll spoil my aim.”
“S-sorry, sir.”
“Your disobedience and recalcitrance are going to stop, immediately. A little bit of it is charming—a very little. But you’ve been tiptoeing right up to the line of outright defiance. And that, my dear, we just can’t have. I won’t have it. Not ever. So, this is your reminder of what happens to little girls whose behavior gets out of line. Maybe you’ll remember how badly this big bottom of yours hurts right now when you think of giving me one of your acid-tongued replies?”
A fourth blow from the brutal strap lifted her bottom cheeks from below, the length of rubber digging into the crease that separated buttock from thigh.
She cried out, biting into her forearm to muffle it. The pain was a bright, hot blast of agony, clawing deep, the entirety of her backside throbbing now, seeming to swell by the second.
That strap was awful!
“Ah, God… four, sir.”
His hand smoothed over her left buttock, the fingertips tickling her cleft as he caressed her. “I love how much your ass bounces and jiggles now. Much more to my liking.”
Having him comment on the ever-increasing curves of her figure never failed to make her blush furiously. She hid her face in her arms.
“Good marks already showing here,” he continued. “You’ll be thinking about this all afternoon, won’t you?”
She knew better than to answer though. She was being punished, and he expected her silence under correction—aside from her cries of pain—unless asked a direct question.
Humming to himself, he gently palpated the swollen, angry welts she could already feel growing along the outside of her right cheek. His touch made her bite into her tongue, the pain reawakening there.
Then he stood back once again.
“Two more, I think,” he intoned behind her, seeming utterly unfazed, as if this were the most normal of activities to be engaging in at the office.
She dreaded the idea of a knock at her door, the tentative, concerned tone of one of her coworkers asking if everything was all right.
What on Earth would she even say? What could she say?
Especially when she didn’t even know the answer herself.
The next stroke—even harder than the previous ones—burned an agonizing stripe across the broadest part of her ass, the snap of the blow like a pistol shot. Her eyes were already welling as she whined against her arm, the pain a flare of fire bursting under her skin. She was definitely going to be bruised from this strapping.
“F-five… s-sir!”
The last strike was low across the fattest part of her bottom, making her cheeks bounce and wobble once again. This time she did cry out, tears spilling down her face. She hoped her teeth digging into her arm successfully muffled the sound of her keening. She bobbed her hips up and down, stamping a foot, not caring at all that it made her ass jiggle obscenely before him. The hurt was simply too much.
“I’m waiting, girl.” His voice wasn’t unkind, but the stern note told her he wasn’t going to let her use her torment to get out of doing as she was told.
“S-si-ix… s-sir.”
The strap was draped over the small of her back. His hands took up both her bottom cheeks then, alternating between squeezing and stroking, which made her both sigh and ache all at once.
“You took those well, Chastity. Is your bottom hurting you?”
“Oh, my God… y-yes, sir. It hurts… so bad.”
“Good. That’s how the lesson is remembered best, isn’t it?” He eased her buttocks apart, his finger tracing the exposed whorl of her anus.
She drew a sharp breath as he touched the very center of her opening, a warning of things to come.
When he looked at her sex and her asshole like this, when she was utterly helpless, she felt so incredibly vulnerable. Laid bare for him to enjoy, to hurt, to conquer.
She should have been horrified when he did this to her—which was often. In a way, part of her still was. Fighting him. Rebelling.
But mostly, she was anything but—and that knowledge alone confused her, frustrated her, shamed her. It made no sense.
None of this did.
How could this man know her body—and what it craved—so very well? Even when it hurt. Because it hurt.
What’s happening to me?
He continued. “When you’re in one of your silly little meetings today, and you’re shifting in your seat, I wonder if any of your colleagues will wonder what’s gotten into you? Do you think they’d ever believe it was because their smart, capable manager had just had her bottom spanked like a disobedient little girl? Do you think they’d lose respect for you if they saw you like this, bare-bottomed and weeping over your desk, your cute little asshole on display between bright red cheeks?”
“Please don’t… don’t let them see me like th-this…”
The tears still fell, but they were as much from embarrassment as they were from pain. But even now, her body was singing a very, very different tune.
Fingertips eased apart the sticky lips of her pussy, and she almost whimpered with mortification, knowing he was looking right at it.
“This cunt might be wetter and messier than I’ve ever seen it,” he said, mirth and affected disapproval in his voice. “Pain and discipline makes your pussy absolutely flood, slut.”
She pressed her hands to her face, sniffling, even as her juices let down still more at his cruel, humiliating words.
His fingers hooked into the tangle of her panties, drawing them down to her feet. “Step out of them.”
Once she did, he plucked them up. He came back around to the other side of her desk, leaned an arm along the top of her chair. He tucked the pink lace of her panties into the pocket of his jeans.
He grinned at her then. “This afternoon, you’re going to go into the bathroom and send me a good picture of the marks on your bottom. Then you’ll forward another with you bent over and spreading your cheeks to display what’s mine—and confirm the shameful wantonness of that wet cunt of yours. Don’t forget, or else.”
She nodded, unable to even look him directly in the eye. “Yes, sir.”
He touched her face. “I want you to keep this position, bent over this desk for five minutes after I leave. I want you to think about your correction, and how you can do better in the future. How you can better obey me and please me. Then you may get your clothes back on and fix your makeup. The tears really made a mess of your eyeliner, I’m afraid. Be a good girl.”
Then he was gone.
Chastity did as she was told, laying there in prostrate, humbled silence, bound in place by only the power of his will. How had all of this happened?
And what could she possibly do to stop it?
What might it mean… if she didn’t want to stop it?
Part I
Excerpt from ‘The Biology of Society’
“…At the top of the metaphorical food chain is the Alpha. These individuals are marked by their high levels of virility, domineering presence, charm, and likeability. Often these individuals hold high-powered positions in society, as befits their standing within traditional social structure.
Alphas also stand in as protectors of society, often holding positions in the military, law enforcement, or personal protection. It is in their nature to be caring and protective of the people around them. Of course, there have been issues of territorialism if several Alphas are located within a close geographic area with no specific location to call ‘theirs.’ There are few solutions when it comes to this particular aspect of their nature, other than to separate the Alphas in question as quickly as possible before any significant damage is done.
The next notch of society features Betas and those who never present, also known as neutrals. These individuals don’t exhibit the same hormonal virility that Alphas do, and when pressured, will often bend to an Alpha’s demand, even when that demand may be morally questionable or unethical. While Betas are by no means submissive, they often occupy more nurturing levels in society, choosing occupations in teaching or social work. These indispensable roles in society are not lesser or weaker than other roles as some believe, simply different.
Lastly, you have the humble—but critical—Omegas. Often female, the Omega fills the remaining gaps in society as breeders and caregivers of children. As Omegas are the only individuals capable of bearing children, the importance of their role cannot be overstated.
As well as filling the role of mothers and caregivers, Omegas also have a special biological process that no other biological designation experiences. The beginning of this process, estrus, is the harbinger of their newfound fertility, signaling their ability to become pregnant, as well as aiding in the process of giving birth.
Colloquially known as their ‘heat,’ the symptoms of this process include exacerbated sexual arousal, increased lubrication, fever, and increased desperation. These symptoms combined make for an often very desperate Omega, whose symptoms can only be resolved by an Alpha who agrees to care for them during their heat. The exact duration of estrus varies between Omegas, but can last anywhere from five to ten days…”
Chapter One
Chastity stifled a yawn, nodding along as Tyler, her engineering team lead, detailed the various accomplishments of his team for the past week. A strand of hair had fallen from her neat ponytail and was tickling the back of her neck. Irritating.
“Great. Things are moving along nicely then. And you’re still on track to meet your deadline?” The dull throbbing of an impending migraine spread up the back of her neck, and Chastity subtly glanced at the clock. Less than an hour to go.
Tyler raised an eyebrow cockily, and Chastity suppressed the urge to roll her eyes and laugh. Alphas and their posturing. Not for the first time, she was grateful that their tactics had no effect on her. The perks of having never presented.
“Yes, of course.”
She glanced down at the notepad on her desk, mentally checking off the topics. That was just about everything. “And the new member of your team, what’s their name?”
“Serene.”
“How’s she turning out?”
He nodded once. “She’s doing well. A few hiccups here and there, but nothing that can’t be fixed with some correction.”
And we all know how much you Alphas like correcting.
Chastity allowed herself a small smile at the snarky thought, then directed the smile at her subordinate. “Excellent. If you don’t have anything else, I think that’s it for this week.”
He was already standing, gathering his own papers and straightening the lapels of his suit. “That’s everything. See you in a few days for the team meeting.”
“Fine. Thank you.”
He disappeared from her office with a sharp click of the door, and she huffed out a breath as she rummaged through one of her drawers for the painkillers she kept on hand. Swallowing them with a gulp of water, she stared at her computer screen for another moment. Her email inbox, as always, was overflowing. Updates on various projects, questions from her team, summaries of meetings she’d been cc’d on.
It was overwhelming. But somehow, comforting? At the very least, it was boring in its sameness. There were very few surprises in her life, and she liked it that way. Even the migraines she experienced were regular as clockwork—every day at 4:30.
She answered a few emails that needed her attention and sorted through her inbox, filing emails away where they belonged and keeping one eye on the clock. Most nights she ended up staying late, dealing with one crisis or another, but today was, fortunately, not one of those days. The second the clock hit 5:30, she shut her computer down and gathered her coat. She nodded to the few team members that straggled around the office as she shut her door, then made a beeline out of the building, walking quickly. Her sensible heels clicked on the tile floor of the lobby, and she took a breath of fresh air once she was out the door.
The subway wasn’t too far, and she enjoyed the fading light of the sun as she meandered down the street. Her walks in the evening were one of the few times that she didn’t feel stressed or overwhelmed, and she always looked forward to them. She tugged her hair out of its ponytail as she walked down the steps into the underground, brown hair falling loose around her face.
The subway wasn’t as crowded as it usually was during this time of day, and Chastity managed to get a bench to herself. She crossed her legs and stared at the wall as it moved behind the windows of the subway car, allowing herself to decompress from the day.
Her stop, as always, approached quickly, and once off the train she hurried to her home, an unassuming condo tucked between a dental office and an apartment building. It was dark when she let herself in, and she made her way to the kitchen by memory, shedding her purse and jacket on the dining table before turning on the kitchen light.
She opened the fridge and winced as the empty shelves inside presented themselves to her. Her growling stomach reminded her that she hadn’t eaten all day, and she sighed as she shut the door. Pizza for dinner, then. She considered putting ‘grocery shopping’ on her to-do list for Saturday, but discarded the idea. She would probably ignore the notification on her phone anyway.
She dialed the pizza place down the street as she made her way to her bedroom, absentmindedly touching a key on the dusty piano as she passed it. It needed a good cleaning, but that probably wasn’t going to happen anytime soon either. She ordered her usual from the perky-sounding pizza clerk, then tossed her phone on the bed as she stripped out of her professional clothes and dropped them in a heap on the floor.
She eyed herself critically in her floor-length mirror as she picked up her pajamas from the bed where she had tossed them early that morning. She saw what she always did: a lithe-figured woman, relatively fit, somewhat curvy. Hips not big enough, tits not big enough. Ass not round enough. She sighed, tugging an oversized shirt and sweats on over her naked form. When she looked up again, she noticed her cheekbones were a hair sharp, cheeks a bit too hollow to be fashionable.
Mom would have a fit if she saw my empty fridge. She smiled to herself as she made her way back to the living room, which adjoined the kitchen, curling up in her comfortable armchair and turning on the TV. Of course, the first ad that popped up on her TV was for a sleazy underwear company, and the vacant, big-titted girls they always had for models made her frown even as her stomach turned with jealousy.
She would never know why she craved the overtly sexualized figure of an Omega; they were treated as sex toys by society, and some of the stories that she had heard about Alphas and their claimed Omegas were… disturbing, at best. Horrifying, at worst. But Omegas always seemed so happy when they clutched at their Alpha’s arm when out and about in public, their tits bouncing around and hips swaying lewdly as they walked down the street together. They were always eyed enviously by the men, jealously by the women, and above all, regarded with the derision that accompanied the collective assumption of sluttiness.
No, she would never know why she craved it. Even so, she couldn’t help but see what she lacked every time she looked in the mirror, and though she was content with her relatively boring life, part of her couldn’t help but wonder what she was missing. There had to be something other than working too late and getting takeout, right?
She tucked her feet under herself and waited for the pizza to arrive, settling in for another quiet night alone with her television.
Chapter Two
The vice president never did know how to make a point succinctly, Chastity thought as she doodled tiny circles on the corner of her notepad. The long table they had their weekly meetings in always reminded her of the overly dramatic meeting scenes in corporate thrillers, especially with the multitude of men in starched suits and ties seated around the table. Not for the first time, she wondered why she was the only female manager; surely there were female Alphas who wanted to work in the private sector?
“Any questions?”
Chastity forced herself back to focus and glanced at the clock. Christ, Mr. Meyers had rambled on for over an hour. She had managed to take notes during the portion of the meeting that directly affected her, but could she have said what the rest of the meeting was about? She could probably guess with reasonable accuracy. All these VP meetings were the same, after all.
Mr. Meyers glanced around the table, focusing on each face in turn. Chastity met his gaze solidly when it fell on her, letting out a quiet sigh when he moved on. She always felt like she needed to prove something to her direct boss, despite always having performed above expectation in her position. The man was intimidating, at the end of the day.
As the end of the meeting dragged on, a bead of sweat ran down the back of Chastity’s neck. Did they turn up the heat? It was springtime, that wouldn’t make any sense. It was seventy degrees outside…
She wiped her forehead and was surprised by the droplets of sweat on the back of her hand. Her skin felt tight and swollen, like she was getting ready to burst free from its confines, and when her forearm brushed against her breasts, she gasped at the tenderness. Her tits were never that sensitive. What the hell was going on with her?
“Well, if nobody has anything else to say, you’re all dismissed. See you next week.”
Chastity had her notes gathered and close to her chest as she hurried out of the room before anyone else in the room had even bothered standing. Once in her office, she sank to the floor with her back to the wall, feeling warmer by the second.
She managed to make her way over to her desk—by crawling, though if anyone asked she would never admit it—and pulled herself into her chair. She guzzled the bottle of water she always kept on her desk, gasping when she finished then looking at the empty bottle disappointedly. She considered standing and walking into the hall to fill the bottle again, but the thought of standing made her head spin.
“Chastity?” One of her coworkers—a fellow director named Chase—poked his head around her door, his expression a moue of concern. “You rushed out of the meeting pretty fast. You okay?”
I have no idea what the hell is going on with me.
Chastity forced a smile even as she felt another bead of sweat drip down the back of her neck. “Yeah, fine. Just realized I was a little thirsty.” She held up the empty water bottle as evidence, forcing a half-hearted chuckle of good-humored self-deprecation.
Chase raised an eyebrow, but nodded once. “Alright, just wanted to make sure. Have a nice rest of your day.” His head disappeared from behind the door and she was alone again.
“What the hell is going on?’ Chastity spoke into the empty office, voice strained. She glanced down and unbuttoned the top few buttons of her shirt, letting out a sigh of relief as the air touched her heated skin. When she glanced down, she was alarmed to see her breasts bulging obscenely against the clasp of her bra. The same bra that had fit her perfectly that morning when she had put it on. When she touched the swollen flesh experimentally, she winced and pulled her hand away.
She quickly buttoned her shirt up again and turned to her computer, attempting to focus on her email inbox. She managed one response to a non-urgent email before she gave up and stood up. She sent an email to Mr. Meyers informing him that she was unwell and taking an early day, then pushed away from her desk quickly, despite her head spinning as she righted herself. She picked up her jacket gingerly and held it draped over her arm, despite the fabric increasing the uncomfortable fever that she was experiencing.
She rushed through the building, throwing out half-hearted responses to the few people who called after her. In the back of her head, she knew that she was probably being incredibly rude, but she was so uncomfortable in her suddenly restrictive work clothes that she couldn’t find it in her to care.
The subway ride home didn’t pass quickly like it usually did, and as the minutes ticked by Chastity sweated more and was struck with a stronger and stronger urge to strip until she was naked as the day she was born.
She managed to make it to her stop, and practically sprinted down the street until she made it to her condo. Her hands fumbled with the keys, shaking so badly that unlocking the door was nearly impossible. She finally managed it, though, feeling the stares of passersby on her back as she let herself into the house and slammed the door.
Her blazer and blouse were off before she even locked the door behind her, and she struggled out of her bra for several long minutes, the clasp stymying her until she finally groaned and pulled it over the top of her head without undoing the clasp. She reached behind her and locked the deadbolt as the soft globes sprang free, looking larger even than they had twenty minutes before in the office. Her nipples were long and swollen, stabbing into the air angrily as she looked down at them. She whimpered softly as she gently touched one tender tip, the sensation both painful and arousing.
She stayed on the floor for another few minutes, wriggling out of her pants and kicking off her shoes until she was fully naked. She pulled her hair even higher up into a bun, even the strands of hair that brushed against the back of her neck from her ponytail too much for her fevered skin.
She forced herself to crawl to the couch, pulling herself up and stretching out, spreading her legs and arms so that none of her body parts touched each other. She fell asleep like that.
When Chastity woke up in the middle of the afternoon the next day, she felt even worse than she had the day before. The fabric of the couch beneath her body was drenched with sweat, and her nipples stood out like bullets in the air above her. Her tits were even more swollen than the day before, and Chastity felt a curious… arousal? When she lifted her head slightly to glance between her legs, she could see her clit was swollen and red without looking too closely, and she was very sure that if she reached between her legs she would find her folds dripping.
When she fished her phone off the floor where she had tossed it the night before, she was met with several emails and two missed calls from her boss. She winced; she had slept nearly twenty-four hours. She managed to send off an email to Mr. Meyers, apologizing for not coming in and letting him know she was sick and would be out for a few days, then she scrolled through her contacts until she found her doctor’s number.
The receptionist who got on the phone was very sweet and surprisingly understanding when Chastity said that she needed a checkup immediately, but no, there was absolutely no way that she would be able to make it into the office in person. The receptionist tutted at that—Chastity wasn’t sure how much the girl believed her—but promised to find the doctor and ask if a home visit would be remotely possible. Chastity was put on hold for close to fifteen minutes before the receptionist came back on the other line and said that unfortunately, no, Dr. Jones wouldn’t be able to make a home visit, but she was open for an emergency appointment in an hour, and could the receptionist call her a cab to assist her over to the office?
Chastity struggled with her words for a moment before she managed to respond, confirming that a cab would be helpful. Once off the phone, it took her longer than she wanted before she was able to stand again. Her thighs brushed together as she walked to her room to find comfortable but appropriate clothes for a doctor’s appointment, and she moaned aloud at the sensation. The heat under her skin seemed to have increased the sensitivity tenfold, and she whimpered softly as she pulled soft pants and a tank top on.
When she glanced in the mirror, she was stunned. Her face was flushed, lips swollen, and eyes bright. The bun she had put her hair in had been messed by sleep, and a few tendrils fell around her face fetchingly. If she wasn’t so disturbed by the symptoms she was dealing with, she would almost say that she looked… sexy. Especially when her gaze dropped and she saw her tits, heavy and swollen and pressing tight against the fabric of her shirt. There was no way to hide her nipples under the thin fabric, and she forced herself to throw on a loose jacket to make herself look a little less obscene, despite the discomfort the extra fabric imposed.
The cab was outside her apartment waiting for her when she finally made her way to the street, a bottle of cold water clutched tightly in her hand. She forced herself to sip it slowly as she slid into the cab, the urge to guzzle down the entire bottle almost overwhelming.
The doctor’s office was quiet when she got there, and Chastity was led back into an exam room quickly. The receptionist looked at her with one eyebrow raised when she approached the counter, but once Chastity was settled in the exam room she forgot about the receptionist’s judgment as she got more and more anxious. Her physical discomfort grew as well as her emotional anxiety, and by the time Dr. Jones entered the room Chastity felt as though she was going to crawl out of her skin.
“Chastity, what’s going on? You haven’t been in for a regular physical in months. I had assumed you lost our office number.” Dr. Jones was a kindly looking middle-aged woman with gray-streaked black hair and square glasses that sat on the tip of her nose. She sat on the stool opposite Chastity with a concerned expression, clipboard on her lap and pen poised to take notes.
“Well, um…” Chastity struggled with words for a moment, and then quickly explained everything that had happened over the last twenty-four hours. The fever, the enhanced sensitivity, her swollen breasts… She blushed as she described the odd arousal that she was feeling, praying that the doctor wouldn’t make fun of her.
It turned out to be an unfounded fear. Dr. Jones listened to her symptoms with a focused expression and made several notes on her clipboard before setting it aside once Chastity was done talking. She did the standard medical tests—heart rate, blood pressure, temperature, airways. As the different aspects of the exam continued, she got an odd expression on her face, and finally asked Chastity to take off her shirt so that she could see her swollen breasts.
Chastity blushed deeply but acquiesced, part of her grateful to be rid of even the thin layer of fabric. Dr. Jones examined each breast in turn closely without comment, fingers gently palpating the skin around her nipples to test the responsiveness of the flesh. Chastity couldn’t help herself and whimpered when she was touched, arching her back slightly to make her tits more available to the doctor’s exam.
After a few more minutes, Dr. Jones nodded. “You can put your shirt back on. I’m glad you came in today. This is highly unusual.”
Chastity tugged her tank top back on with a slight whimper before she tried to focus on the doctor and took a shaky sip of water. “What’s unusual?”
Dr. Jones regarded her for a moment before folding her hands in her lap. “Well, Chastity, it seems that… you’re presenting as an Omega. You’re experiencing all the classic symptoms of an Omega’s heat.”
Chastity stared at the doctor for a moment, the urge to laugh bubbling up in her chest. The moment was too serious, though, and after another moment the urge died away. “Excuse me?”
Dr. Jones nodded. “Increased heart rate, your temperature is highly elevated, sensitivity to innocuous stimulus, and you’re experiencing a mild increase in sexual arousal with no apparent cause. That will continue to increase over the next few days until the heat peaks, and then it will resolve a few more days after that.”
Chastity stared at the doctor, the words only barely registering. “But… I’m neutral.”
“Well, it is a very late presentation by most standards, but by no means out of the ordinary. There are some Omegas who don’t present until their late forties and early fifties. Just because it’s common to present in late adolescence doesn’t mean that any other age is unusual.” The doctor offered a smile that Chastity was sure was meant to be reassuring, but she felt sick to her stomach. Her? An Omega? There was no way. God, what was this going to mean for work? Her thoughts flashed back to the initial assumption she had had about the sexy models on TV before. God, everyone was going to stare at her like she was a slutty sex toy, weren’t they? She was going to be demoted, there went her career…
Dr. Jones cleared her throat. “The average duration of heat is about seven days, so I would suggest taking the time off work if you can. It can be… very overwhelming to deal with for the first time, from everything I’ve heard and read. Do you have someone nearby who would be able to take care of you for the next few days? Make sure you eat and drink water?”
Chastity shook her head, feeling dazed. “Um. No. My family is all out of state. What do I need to do? I can set alarms on my phone to remind me to eat and drink if I need to.”
Dr. Jones eyed her for a moment before sighing. “Make sure you drink a glass of water at least once every hour, and eat five small meals a day. Snacks are good if you can’t manage a meal, but make sure not to eat too much at once. It could make you sick.”
Chastity nodded, taking the paper that Dr. Jones handed her with notes and instructions. “I’ll… call out of work, I guess.”
Dr. Jones nodded sympathetically. “I think it would be for the best. Be sure to call if you have any other questions, but unfortunately, this is just something you need to ride out. There are some medications that can mitigate the symptoms of heat, but the side effects are so challenging that most choose to just go through the heat instead. But I can prescribe them if you think that isn’t something you want?” Her pen poised on her prescription pad for a moment as she looked at Chastity earnestly.
After a moment, Chastity shook her head. “No, I think I’ll be okay. I’ll just take a cab home and get some rest.”
Dr. Jones nodded. “Very well. I’m going to have my receptionist schedule you to come back next week for some blood tests to confirm my diagnosis, but I think I can say with relative confidence that you’re an Omega. I’ll see you next week. Feel better.” She exited the room without further comment, and Chastity shook on the table for a moment before she stood up and walked out of the office in a slight daze. This time she didn’t put the jacket on, and could feel the gaze of the receptionist follow her as she walked through the waiting room and exited the building.
She glanced at the street for a moment, several cabs passing her before she turned down the sidewalk and started to slowly make her way home, gently bumping against random individuals on the sidewalk like a ping-pong ball.