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Enara pants weakly. Her sweat soaks into the padded leather, leaving her a sticky, gross mess. Everything below her hips hurts. Enara had served her quota births before marriage at a facility that was perfectly happy to give her epidurals to keep her quiet, but Montserrat believes in natural birth.
At least the alpha has stayed with her, petting her forehead and her breasts as the midwife rushes the child away to a wet nurse and an adoption facility. Enara doesn’t even get much of a look at it.
“There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Montserrat asks. She’s a striking figure, raven black hair in a neat, sharp bob and high, plump cheeks with a strong arched nose. Her hands are long and slender like a pianist. She has a gentle, kind face and the body of a bruiser. Broad shoulders, broad hips, broad thighs, all of it muscle. She oozes Alpha even without bringing her pheromones into it.
Enara tries to speak. All that comes out is a groan. She’s shaking uncontrollably in the birthing restraints, her legs tied up in stirrups and her hands tied over her head.
Montserrat laughs. “Oh, no need to whine, precious. Your cunt isn’t even torn.” She pushes two fingers inside, scissoring them casually. “You took that so well for me.” She adds that little edge to her voice that makes Enara moan no matter what she says. “Do you think you could manage a little more today?”
Enara knows there’s only one acceptable answer. “If it pleases my alpha, of course,” she whispers, almost managing to sound like she means it.
By Montserrat’s smile, she knows Enara is lying. Enara thinks that might be what Montserrat prefers. “I’m glad to hear it, darling. I would hate to put any undue strain on you.” Enara knows Montserrat is lying too. “Now, you sit pretty right there for me.”
Montserrat leaves the room. Enara lays there, miserable and hurting and dreading what her alpha has in store for her. The older omegas in her facility warned her that the first pregnancy with your own alpha is always the honeymoon period. It’s after that when you learn what they’re really like. When Montserrat returns, she brings the midwife and a few more alphas besides, men and women Enara has seen before at Montserrat’s house parties. Who have seen Enara before and looked. Eight in total. Dread coils in the empty space where the baby used to be.
“Have you had multiples before?” Montserrat asks like it’s a casual question when Enara is tied to a breeding-birthing bench with so many other alphas in the room.
Enara nods weakly. “Triplets, ma’am.”
“And how did your facility fill you up with triplets?” Montserrat asks.
Enara forces herself not to cringe away. “My borrower fucked my pussy and had two staff alphas bite my mating gland to express additional eggs, ma’am.”
Montserrat runs a hand over Enara’s stomach, scratching it gently with long fingernails. Enara whimpers.
“A perfectly fine use of staff, but not a very kind thing to do to one’s friends, wouldn’t you agree?”
“A-as you say, ma’am.”
“Besides,” Montserrat continues, “It relies so much on the self restraint of the alpha fucking you. As soon as the first egg is fertilized, no more alphas can contribute. Facilities can reliably induce quadruplets, yes? I think we can go bigger.” She pauses. Glares down at Enara when Enara doesn’t respond immediately.
“H-how, ma’am?” Enara whispers.
“Louder,” Montserrat chides.
“How, ma’am!” Enara groans.
Montserrat smiles. “I’m so glad you asked, precious. The secret, you see, is right here.” She shoves two fingers into Enara’s cunt and scissors Enara for her audience. “So sloppy, so loose. How many of us just tighten our omegas right back up again so the next fuck feels good?” Most of the alphas in the room raise their hands. “Of course we do. It’s only natural. But this sloppy pussy is loose enough that a knot can slide right back out of it. And that means, as long as we keep the seed from reaching the womb until we’re ready, we can plant as many eggs as we like.”
Enara sobs as the idea sinks in. It’s simple omega biology. Omegas ovulate every time a new alpha bites their mating gland, unless the alpha has already released an egg that cycle or they’re already pregnant.
“But she still has to be tight enough to get us off,” one of the alpha women points out. “I can’t get my mating fangs out if I’m not cumming and I’m not popping my knot in my own fist; I got carpal tunnel. That shit hurts.”
“Don’t worry, I thought about that too,” Montserrat promises. She reaches into a locked drawer in the bottom of Enara’s wardrobe – she loves keeping things Enara will dread in Enara’s room – and pulls out a set of massive fleshlights. They’re the fancy kind, deep enough to hold a knot too. “Everyone, take one of these. Fuck our girl with that and mate her. Then you can just slide it right back out of her smooth as a baby’s bottom.” She laughs at her own joke. “Once everyone’s had their turn, I’ll breed her for real. I bet we can get at least septuplets even if not everyone’s egg takes.”
Enara shakes her head frantically. “Alpha,” she whines. “Please–”
Montserrat covers her lips gently. “You're gonna be so fucking pretty,” she murmurs. “Stretched as wide as you can go and heavy with my babies.” She ducks between Enara’s bound hands and straddles the breeding bench, pulling Enara’s head into her lap. “Who wants to go first?”
After a brief discussion, the alphas agree that the midwife has dibs. She's an older lady with a plump, kindly face and a stumpy little cock. She even has the good sense to lube up the outside of the fleshlight before she shoves it into Enara’s cunt.
Enara howls. She feels it much more than Montserrat’s fingering. The cold, hard plastic is torture against every part of her overheated and overstretched inner passage. Not that the midwife cares now that her duty is done. She fucks the fleshlight and Enara with it, rocking Enara back into Montserrat’s lap. Montserrat’s long, clever fingers play with Enara’s clit. Enara endures, practices the same deep breathing exercises the midwife had given her for the birth until Montserrat pinches her clit and makes her gasp. She doesn’t get to ignore this.
Finally, the midwife’s knot and fangs both pop and she sinks her fangs deep into Enara’s mating gland. The skin at the base of her neck is overheated and tender from her pregnancy hormones, but the mating venom is a cooling balm, soothing her and holding her back from the edge of orgasm. Her instincts force her limp and placid. In a natural mating, she and her alpha would be locked together for up to an hour, her alpha soothing and caressing her and making sure the seed takes while her instincts keep her from panicking and hurting herself.
Instead, the midwife pulls the whole fleshlight out, still locked around her cock, and steps back for the next alpha to take his turn. His fleshlight hurts just as bad, hard and bruising and utterly unable to yield to fit her, but her body is unable to put up any resistance. Maybe the forced relaxation of her body makes it hurt less. She can’t really say.
“Man, she really is an empty little fuckdoll like this,” the alpha laughs, holding Enara’s hips up so he can plow deeper into her. “It’s kinda cool, but I bet it gets boring fast.”
“Oh, it does,” Montserrat agrees. “That’s why I like to make a party of it.” Her fingers still circle Enara’s clit, keeping her just barely on the right side of the boundary between pleasure and pain.
The alpha laughs. “Of course you do, you fucking freak.” He sounds fond. He pops his knot and bites Enara’s mating gland. The second dose of venom layers over the first. Enara can’t summon the energy to hold her head up any more.
Montserrat stands up, ducking out from between Enara’s arms. Enara tries to protest, but all she can do is exhale with slightly more force than usual. She is fully aware of her surroundings and her body, but totally out of control. Montserrat leans down and kisses her on the forehead.
“You’re doing good, sweetie. Don’t go anywhere.” She laughs at the idea that Enara would be able to and invites the next alpha, a woman who has only ever leered at Enara with undisguised lust in to take her turn while Montserrat walks out of the room.
The next alpha shoves the fleshlight in with a vengeance. “God, look at your sweet pussy just fucking take that,” she snarls. “I could do literally anything to you right now and you wouldn’t even stop me right now, would you? You’re such a doe-eyed pain slut.” She grabs Enara’s tits in both hands and pulls up until Enara’s back is forced into an unnatural, painful arch. “You want me to stop, baby? Just say the word and I’ll stop.”
Enara can’t speak. The venom won’t let her speak. She exhales again and the alpha laughs.
“That’s what I thought you’d say, breeder bitch.” She fucks Enara like she had a grudge, slapping Enara’s face and tits with every thrust. Enara tries to cling to the relief that she doesn’t live with this woman every day, to be a good, docile, grateful omega. All she finds is pain.
The sound of Montserrat’s heels clicking on the hall brings a momentary relief followed by an emotion that Enara dares not name even in her own helpless mind when she sees that Montserrat has brought a tray of light appetizers and drinks.
The miserable cunt fucking Enara eats a skewer of prosciutto and peach in two delicate bites, then fills Enara with another round of venom.
Enara drifts. Montserrat unties her and tips her onto her side into a recovery position, except with one leg tied up in the air so her cunt is still exposed for the taking. She’s drooling uncontrollably as the venom chills and stills her. All she can do is watch and hurt as the alphas eat and drink and one of them breaks out a video game console as they take their turns raping and mating her.
The last one is, of course, Montserrat herself. She shoves her hand inside Enara’s pussy, still the widest thing Enara’s taken all day, still commanding all of her attention. Then, fucks her own hand inside Enara’s pussy, jacking off like a horny teenager. Her venom weighs like a stone on Enara’s mind as her seed paints Enara’s insides white. Enara is too loose for a knot to stay inside her, but Montserrat pulls her hips up and lets her dangle there, legs in the air, cum dribbling out of her like a fountain, until long after the party is over and everyone else has gone home.
A few weeks later, Enara goes in for her ultrasound. The tech finds eight heartbeats.
The pregnancy goes better than Enara expected. Montserrat is tender, attentive, caring. Always ready to massage her sore feet and kiss her aching tits. When Enara’s stomach swells so large that she can’t reach her own clit anymore, Montserrat starts rubbing her off every night, cooing praises and admiration. She even lets Enara have an epidural for the last few babies, after a whole day of birthing when she has no more strength in her left to labor.
And then, Montserrat kisses Enara and invites her friends back in the room. “Do you think we can get ten this time? I bet we can get ten this time.”