Page 40 of Ondine: Vol. 2

“I think that’s it.”

“Rope play? Orgasm denial? Anything taboo?”

She waits to reply. Probably trying to calm down.

“I don’t know. Maybe? I don’t think I’ve experienced enough partners for that. I read a dirty book once about a student and a teacher. Older man who’s in charge, young pupil who wants to prove herself. Is that taboo?”

Oh she’s so sweet.

“Teacher/student. Step siblings. Doctor/patient. Age gap. Yeah, that’s part of the taboo.”

I didn’t even stutter on doctor/patient or age gap.

She nods and at that, but then sighs and says, “This conversation is making me really horny, Arnie. I’m not going to lie.”

That makes two of us, I think and then remind myself to be a good room manager. But she’s just as affected. My god.

“That should be enough for now. We will talk more after your first experience. So tell me your scent preferences…”

Her heat has lasted four days. One of the longest heats we’ve had at the Clinic. I check her meds and her blood work over and over and by all accounts she should have only had a 24 hourheat. The Clinic physician prescribed her an exceptionally high dose of heat suppressants and hormone blockers. But it doesn’t seem to matter. Ondine is an omega that will need a large pack. I’ve seen large packs—five of six alphas, several betas…

Don’t think about Ondine needing betas.

An omega would never choose a beta to be in her pack before she has an alpha. It would be unheard of. They’d assume I was manipulating her or abusing her in some way.

Omegas need alphas. The fifth alpha I’d sent into her room stumbles out. Exhausted and completely rutted out. He heads straight for the locker rooms and showers.

The heat signature camera reads her white hot body as slightly dropping in temperature. Thank god.

It’s 3 in the morning. I take off down the hall and let myself into her room. There’s no need for me to be here. She should be allowed to sleep and come down to a 99/100 degree temperature naturally before checking out. But I cannot stand to only watch her on the screen. I need to make sure she’s ok.

It’s her first heat.

The pink and violet glow of the lights greet me. I shut the door silently behind myself.

She’s been discarded in her nest. Exposed and in repose. Her body is twisted, but her face is serene. Like this is the first time she’s been satiated.

She looks like what the philosophers describe when they describe beauty. Overwhelming and lovely. The achievement of mankind. Ondine: Finally fulfilled.

I don’t even second guess myself. I return to my office for my camera. I take a single shot of her. Just one. I can’t see something that awe-inspiring and not photograph it. It feels like I was destined to be a photographer for just this moment.

Before I leave I tuck her into her blankets. I pile up her pillows. And then I spot something.

My comb

The tortoiseshell comb I usually have on my shelf near my mirror. When did she take this? Or did I accidentally leave it here…no she had to have taken it. And she weaved it into her nest.

I’m stunned. I’m scared. Why am I scared?

I put the comb into the pillows and back away.

Did Ondine mean to put a piece of me in her nest?

13

Punishment

Jake