Page 19 of The Other Omega

“Very well. We will continue tomorrow.”

A pause followed before another voice answered.

“Tomorrow would be inadvisable. The vaginal tissue needs time to heal, and the internal anal sphincter has now sustained trauma as well. Repeating the procedure so soon risks permanent injury.”

“You will do as I say, or you may do as you wish elsewhere.”

Soon, I began to recognise the voices by what followed them. Some meant pain, while a precious few meant relief, though it never lasted long.

“She should be in a specialised facility, Eleanor. You’re their Omega and the mother of their daughters. You should be able to stand against them when necessary, my friend. I wouldn’t insist if I didn’t believe this was important.”

“They won’t listen to reason, Mireya.”

“Make them, Eleanor. Elowen’s life is in your hands.”

Something cold touched my forehead, and I opened my eyes to find Mireya leaning over me.

“Hello, little dove.” Terror flooded through me at the sound of her voice. “I’m so very proud of you. Your sacrifice will help many Omegas after you. Your name will always be remembered.”

I caught her wrist. “Please.”

She didn’t acknowledge me. “Begin controlled expansion.”

“No.”

Pressure began inside my vagina, slow and deliberate, stretching tissue that already felt bruised and raw. More pressure followed inside my anus. I tried to close my legs, but something was holding them in place.

“No. Please, stop!” I sobbed, my fingers tightening desperately around the sheets beneath me. “Please.”

The stretching turned into a sharp pain that kept building despite my screams, until I finally stopped fighting and let myself slip away. My last thought was terrifyingly clear.

They’re going to kill me.

Chapter 7

Lady Elowen

Time had lost all meaning. With no window in my cell, I had only the changing of the guards and the screams to mark the hours.

The door locks released and the dreadful Betas stepped inside, their gleaming cream clothing doing nothing to disguise the scent that followed them. I doubted any amount of washing could remove the stench of terror and pain from their skin.

Across the corridor, the Omega opposite me began to cry before they even reached her door.

“No,” she whispered. “Please. You said tomorrow. I’m not ready.”

The Betas ignored her. One of the guards unlocked the cell, and she scrambled backwards on her hands and feet.

“Please. I’m not ready.”

Two entered the cell. One seized her arm, and the other took a syringe from his case and drove the needle into her skin. Her struggles weakened almost immediately, her shoulders sagging and her head rolling forward onto her chest. The Beta holding her caught her beneath the arms and dumped her onto the mattress. Her eyes remained open, but she was gone.

The Betas packed away their instruments and left the cell. The guard on duty stepped aside to allow three Alphas inside.

I stayed silent and watched the Alphas use her one after another. We all did. There was no escaping the sight, the scents or the sounds. The Alphas ignored us, discussing her responses in the detached language of scientists conducting a test.

More Alphas came, and another cell opened farther down the corridor, then another. I had long since stopped trying to judge how much time passed between visits and focused instead on praying they would never send the Alphas to me.

But our suffering went beyond what happened when they opened the cells. We were forced to relieve ourselves into a small hole in the ground, given food only once a day and denied even the basic dignity of bathing. I had never known such humiliation.