Adrien’s mouth went dry. “Why would we need to worry?”
“In your case, based on the photos in your file, I think you’ll be fine.
You’re young and attractive, though that mop of blond hair could be a bit neater. Stereotypically, alphas do prefer brunets, fair or not. Still, there are always the fetishists who love the lighter hair. You have a tender look about you, and that will make them want to take you apart,” the matcher said, a hint of laughter in his voice. “And when you’re in heat, you’ll want him to take you apart, too. Ah, heat. It makes sluts of us all.”
Adrien shuddered.
Would he be a slut in heat? He couldn’t imagine wanting a stranger to touch him, take him, and impregnate him. But the matcher was right; he was running low on the funds his father had left to him when he died. And
without family to fall back on, he was definitely in a place in life where he had little choice but to go the auction route. While he dreaded the thought of carrying a stranger’s child, of interrupting his studies and his student life so thoroughly, he also knew he’d likely have to agree to be bred, too.
If he was very lucky, in a best-case scenario, he’d auction off the breeding for high value, but it wouldn’t take. That way he’d collect all the breeding money without having to pay the ultimate price of time, discomfort, and pain.
Still, he wasn’t ready to admit any of that aloud just yet. It would make it too real.
Pacing the floor of his small dorm room, he agreed to let the matcher set up the auction and make the appointment for him to come into the office the next day for photographs. After a week or so, he’d give his consent to offer up his first breeding, too.
He rubbed his eyes beneath his glasses. They stung with sweat. It couldn’t be that bad. Every omega did it. He’d be just like anyone else.
He just wished he didn’t have to be.
Chapter Two
THE MATCHER’S OFFICE was garishly decorated and reminded Adrien of a brothel in a movie, complete with red curtains and wallpaper to match. Mr.
Finch himself was unattractive enough—short, stubby, and stinking of cigar.
He’d been on his cell phone when Adrien first arrived, but he’d waved him into a chair across from his wide wooden desk and smiled. Then he’d swung his feet up on top, leaned back, and lit a cigar, puffing it at the ceiling. A nameplate resting on the front of the desk read Ron Finch.
“I know, Phil, but this one is a doozy of an omega, I tell you. He’s hungry for cash, and you know what that means.” Ron winked at Adrien and flicked his ash in the red tray on his desk. “He’s here now. Yes, he’s handsome. Plus he has a sexy little butt that jiggles just right when he walks. I’m telling you, it’s worth putting up a fight for him. You’ll see.”
Adrien swallowed back bile and squirmed in his seat.
Ron didn’t seem to care or notice. “Now, don’t forget to brag to your friends. They’ll all want to make you sweat for him, I’m sure.” Ron chuckled and then hung up the phone. “Chumming the water for you, Adrien. Getting the sharks hungry.”
Adrien smiled, but there was no joy in it. “Thanks.”
“So, first, let’s review how we’ll trigger your heat. Once the auction closes, you’ll have a week and a half before your heat will need to start.
During that time, you’ll be prescribed two hormones that will force your heat forward. Future heats will give warning signs several months in advance.
Those signals are best not ignored if you want to capitalize on them.”
“Sell them, you mean.”
“Exactly. So long as you’re a student or professor here at the university, I can help you sell those heats, or, once I’ve retired, whoever takes my place can help. If you marry, however, that alpha will be responsible for dealing with the heat. Of course, some married omegas do continue to sell their heats for profit in order to benefit their entire family, but we usually stay out of that and let the alpha handle those arrangements.”
Adrien pushed his glasses up his nose and nodded.
“And, obviously, some older omegas take up the duty of selling their heats themselves on less than reputable sites or in individual transactions. We advise you to stay away from that if possible. You have a stellar matching service here at the university, so you should absolutely take advantage of it.”
There wasn’t any new information in Ron’s little speech, but it made Adrien feel a bit better to hear it all spelled out, and he was glad for any reason to stall for time on the photos.
But it seemed as though his time was up.
Ron stubbed out his cigar. “Now, let’s get started with the pictures. I have a room here where I take them. I try to keep them all in the same tone so no one can accuse me of favoritism. Though if I had a current favorite among the heats up for sale, it would be you.” He smiled at Adrien and winked.
Adrien cringed. “How do the pictures…? I mean, what will I have to do for them?” Adrien knew that auctions were conducted for campus omegas’
heats on a regular basis, but he’d never taken a look at the website himself.
He’d been too afraid of what he might see of his future there.
“It’s easy, really. Naked, hands crossed behind the back for the first shot.
I’ll take a lot of those just to make sure I capture you with the most appealing expression on your face. It helps to show subservience in your eyes if possible. That can be hard for some omegas to accomplish, but I think you’ll be a natural. Then I take that same pose from behind. That frames the buttocks, which, as you know, is every alpha’s obsession.” He laughed.
“After that, I’ll grab one of you bent over with cheeks spread so they can see your anus. Finally, I’ll snap a few of just your face. Again, aiming to capture one with the right mix of innocence, desire, and a hint of fear. And that’ll do it.” He dusted off his hands to indicate a finished product. “And, let me tell you, son, if you’ve got a nice-looking hole, you’ll see the bids jump as soon as I load the pictures to the site. Alphas love a tight, young anus.”
Ignoring the pounding of his heart, Adrien said, “Bids have already started?”
“Absolutely. I put the auction live last night after our conversation with a write-up about you. Alphas are always looking for an intelligent omega to breed, you know. It’s not just about looks. They don’t want stupid offspring who won’t bring any glory to the family name. So your GPA alone was enough to get some takers.”
“But I thought we weren’t going to offer breeding just yet?”
“We haven’t!” Ron waved Adrien’s concern away. “I made sure to mention that you wanted to be a professor. When the early-bidding alphas saw you were ambitious as well as intelligent, they started out with higher bids than usual, rightly assuming that you’d be offering up breeding in the end. The wealthier alphas especially want to make sure their children have some drive to take over their businesses or fortunes once they’re retired or passed on.” Ron grinned.
Adrien noted for the first time that Ron’s teeth were crooked. He couldn’t tell if Ron was a beta or an omega himself, but he knew he definitely wasn’t an alpha.