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This Small Dust

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John tries desperately not to flinch as the familiar metal prongs slide relentlessly inside him, but Simon his new carer, notices anyway, brushing his hair back and fixing him with a disappointed look.

“Why you still make this so hard on yourself, I'll never know. It'll go easier if you relax.” He provided unnecessarily, his voice the very essence of professional detachment. Relax, they’ve all said, like it was easy, as if he was somehow choosing to make this hurt. John grits his teeth around the plastic in his mouth and nods, Simon always requires a response.

John knew the lie, like it was tattooed on his skin. Relax and everything will be fine. It won't hurt so much. Words from a thousand doctors, a thousand pamphlets, therapists and well meaning strangers. Give into it. They may as well have told him to give up.

Well, he had tried that, for years he’d practiced his breathing techniques, done the exercises, obeyed the instructions. It hadn’t made a damn bit of difference. Even Sebastian hadn’t been able to change anything, not really, but not for lack of trying. And he’d tried to give in, give everything, and he’d taken it all and still found him wanting. Right up until the last.

At least this doctor was slow, seemingly engrossed in the task.

“Has he been using the new dilators regularly?” he asked Simon, glancing across John’s body as if he were invisible, a specimen on a dissecting table. They never ask him anything anymore; it’s been noted in his chart that he lies.

“Yes, but as little as possible.We’re working on it. Michelle, his last weekday carer let him get away with much too much. We’re working back into a regular schedule but it’s taking time and you know Omegas, always resistant to change.”

“Yes, entirely. Structure I always say is best with them, keep them strictly to a set schedule and clear set of rules and they’re better off. None of this new age nonsense about ‘self-direction’, keep it simple for them and they will thrive, give them too much choice and they’ll loose themselves,” he says, patting the inside of John’s thigh like he’s a prized pet in need of a little retraining.

He chats as he goes back to working the speculum wider, absently massaging the inside walls of John’s passage with slippery fingers. Surely it’s wide enough John thinks, wishing he could at least tell the man, it’s seriously getting painful now. But the guard in his mouth won’t be removed till the appointment is over, he’d bit his tongue once and a quick note in his file ensured that before every appointment Simon got to hold the back of his head while pushing between his teeth several inches of plastic and metal. A strap behind his head held it in place. John bit down his frustration into the guard, knowing they’d check for teeth marks in the molded plastic, further evidence of its need, but the impulse was too strong.

Simon continued to brush back John’s hair absently with his hand, tactile sensations were meant to be soothing to Omegas. John wanted to push the hand away, instead he pushed into it, let Simon think he’s a good little Omega.

“Has his guardian considered trying the Kashinski Method with him by any chance? I know it’s considered controversial but the results have truly been exceptional, especially in difficult cases like John’s here.” John’s blood ran cold, not that shit again.

“Yes, well it has been suggested but his current Guardian, his father, is a traditionalist and doesn’t go in for these new hormone therapies, preferring the old methods. You know these old families.”

“Quite. Our understanding of Omega physiology would move so much faster if these old families weren’t so caught up in the old traditions. There is wonderful work being done on artificial insemination in Japan, with some Omegas giving birth to twins or even triplets,” He looked down at John almost hungrily, “if only they would let us try that more often here, John would be a wonderful subject to work with.”

“Not worth the effort I’m afraid. His previous guardian tried the works with him, from hormone replacement, IVF, more medications than you’d believe, you name it he tried it. Poor John’s sterile as they come I reckon, though his next guardian will probably give it another go. They always think they’ll be the one,” he snorted a laugh, “might as well bring back the Alpha Fertility Trials, you know they’ll manage it easy as.”

The doctor shook his head nervously, they were crossing into dangerous territory here and they knew it. But it looked like Simon had stumbled onto a passionate topic for the man. The fingers stopped moving, left resting inside him though, John apparently forgotten on the table.

“Sure, they’d get them pregnant but with a 40% higher chance of another Alpha getting born, it’s not worth the risk. As it is, you only get a 12% increased chance of an Omega from an Alpha pregnancy and you loose your bloodline purity. If only they’d let us genetically screen the embryos, we could eliminate the Alphas all together. Their sort of mindless violence should be locked away at birth, not given so many chances, time and time again.” He hissed seething. “They bring them in here and I get stuck taking their samples, but I won’t see them unless they’re restrained. I’m not dealing with that.”

Simon nodded, “At least they’re rarer than Omegas and not half as smart or as pretty.” He said looking down at John fondly. John closed his eyes instead of meeting Simon’s gaze, too often the carers got attached, thought themselves Guardians, wanted more. John hoped he’d taken the hint.

But Simon apparently was thicker than John hoped and mistook it as fear, “Don’t worry, we’ll never let an Alpha near you. We were just talking, just ignore us, hey? Nothing to worry about.” The hair stroking resumed.

“Best get on I suppose,” the doctor sighed, finally pulling his fingers back from inside

He positioned a light down between John’s thighs and proceeded to take the samples needed.

But the speculum didn’t come out just yet, John knew he wasn’t lucky enough for that.

“I’ve worked him open somewhat today, so I’ll fit him with a 2C standard base model, in the vaginal passage and a 1.3C flared base model in his anal passage. Try to work him back up to a 3D on each before his next appointment. His father has scheduled him for an induced heat with full internal and external and it’ll go much easier for him if he’s already loosened.”

“Isn’t that a bit fast, we’re scheduled for…” Simon checks the calendar on his phone “next Thursday?”

John’s breath caught, no one had told him that he was going to be forced through another so soon. He tried desperately to get his breathing under control, Simon would drug him if he saw him panicking.


“Not at all, he obviously needs a good heat. Just work him hard and regularly over the next few days and use the overnight dilation device I sent over a month or so ago. I know he’s complained about getting enough sleep, but he’ll soon get used to it. Won’t you?” he says, genially at an unresponsive John.

Fuck you he wants to tell him, You try going through that shit and tell me you’ll get used to it. Instead he bites down harder, breathing through his nose.

The doctor gets out a case and selects the sizes he wants, barely reduces the speculum before he’s sliding in the dilators. John grunts around the guard and Simon is shushing him.

“All done.” He says smiling down at John like he’s a kindergartner who just cried through his shots.

“Alright, let’s get you up and dressed.” Says Simon as he eases John’s feet out of the stirrups. He reaches behind him and grabs the plastic and metal belt resting on the surgical bench and adjusts the internal metal cables to account for the dilators. He holds it against John’s pelvis for a moment, checking the fit before smiling up to him and saying.

“Make sure to tell me if it’s too loose, wouldn’t want those slipping out.” He winks at John like he’s made some inside joke before slipping it under his hips and around his pelvis. The first lock catches just above his penis and around his waist.

Testicles and penis are pulled through the custom made sheath and fastened downward, effectively preventing any ‘mistakes’. The final panel is pulled forward from the back to the front locking everything in and preventing John from ‘interfering with his treatment’.

When he’d first seen the belt resting in Sebastian’s hands, John had raged against him, pushing the belt out of his fingers and on to the floor. I don’t need it!

He’d tried to back away, yelling at him that he couldn’t do that, couldn’t make him. John said he’d been good, had done everything Sebastian wanted, he didn’t need to be locked away.

“Sweetheart. It’s not about that, I know you’re trying, so hard. This will make it easier, can’t you see? No more choices? You won’t have to fight it anymore, it’s my choice. You know you’re not allowed to get hard, now you won’t be able to, it’ll be easier I promise.

Plus, the Institute advised in their last newsletter that any Omega with the chance of running into an Alpha should wear one, it’s too risky that they might go into a rut and I wouldn’t want you getting hurt.” He’d lent in to kiss John then, holding him against himself tight.

“It’s for your own good. You’ll get used to it, I promise.”

He wanted to reach down and feel flesh instead plastic.

But John couldn't. He still resented it. Missed the rare quiet moments when he could slip his fingers down and encircle himself, stifling a moan lest the carer in the next room hear. He wanted the sweetness of pleasure without the damning pressure of Heat or the empty ache of Sebastian filling him. But, he wanted so many things, none of it possible. To John, wants were like dreams, gently fading away in the light of day, the only path left to him, well worn and hard underfoot, chosen by another.

The last lock clicked shut and Simon’s hands were encircling his waist and his voice telling him to get up.

“Time to go home.” 






 “You can’t be serious!” exclaims Carson in alarm, “Those DNA databases are for genetic screening and medical research not your own private recruitment drive.”

“Oh, stop overreacting. I merely hacked in to see if there was any suitably qualified gene carriers in the system and look I was right,’ he says shoving a small stack of papers in Carson’s face.

“Six just in the preliminary search! But look at this one, it’s off the charts. We have to have him, I don’t care who he is, he can be the janitor for all I care so long as he can sit in my lab for three hours a day turning tech on.”

Though he knew it was unprofessional, Carson himself couldn’t help hoping that maybe another gene carrier on board might just take the pressure off himself in that area, he really was quite uncomfortable handling much of the alien technology they were sure to discover.

“All right,” He sighs audibly, “lets just take a look then. As you’ve already got this far,” Rodney made no effort to hide his self satisfied smirk.

Well, he’d got his hopes up for nothing apparently. The data was really quite limited, a medical ID number, DNA profile and gender. Carson flicked through the pile with a quickly sinking heart.

“Rodney, most of these barely register the gene and all and this one,” He says holding up the one that had Rodney all excited, “Well, his gene markers are amazing but, did you look past that fact?”

“What?” he says grabbing the profile back.

“He’s an Omega Rodney. There is no way an Omega can come along.”

“Why not?”

“Rodney,” His irritation at Rodney’s obliviousness showing his his voice, “sometimes you really need to look out beyond maths and engineering. Surely you know of Omegas?”

“Of course, pampered, sexual and pretty things. Married off young to the rich and famous. Not much to know.”

“Seriously Rodney?”

The blank look he receives tell him everything. Though he probably shouldn’t be surprised, Rodney’s securely middle class upbringing combined with the increasingly extreme rarity of Omegas probably contributed to him never even having glimpsed an Omega let alone met one.

“So? How does that stop me recruiting one?”

“They have a Guardian, from birth till death, who decides everything. Generally it starts out as a family member but technically the guardian is chosen by the Alpha and Omega Institute, the government body in charge of all Alpha and Omega Services. If the Guardian is seen as neglectful or sometimes for merely acting against the AOI they are assigned a new guardian. Alphas and Omegas can’t marry as they are seen as never fully being able to consent, instead their guardian must see to their sexual needs in whichever way they see fit. And those needs are one of their defining characteristics, periods of intense physiological need, fulfilled only by a series of mating and release. This isn’t a simple matter Rodney.

You won’t be recruiting an Omega Rodney, you’ll be recruiting the Institute and his Guardian.”

“Well,” says Rodney, obviously irritated by this development but not put off, “That’s where I’ll tell Elizabeth to start then.”