I glared at my erection as I sat in my office. It was quite the feat to get to my office before anyone saw the tent in my jeans, and I will admit that I ignored the call of my name at least twice on my dash for cover. But please explain to me why I still had a hard-on that refused to go away!?! I didn't want to take care of it manually at work, that's just not appropriate and vastly unprofessional. I tried everything I could think of to get it down, from drinking cold water to walking around, jogging in place, and thinking of my 7th-grade science teacher — that woman was horrifying, by the way — and trying to see how many Pokémon I could name from memory.
Nothing!
Sighing, I got up and locked my office door. Sitting back at my desk, I took the landline off the receiver and set my phone to 'do not disturb.' Filled with disdain and disbelief that I was actually fucking doing this, I finally released my cock from my jeans. Stroking the shaft from base to tip, watching my hand and foreskin swallow the head of my cock, the movement alone gave me cause to moan; the sudden pleasure and relief were pure bliss. I pulled up a frequented porn site on my phone, checking multiple times that the volume was turned off before queuing up a video that I knew had gotten me off before. It was filmed from the camera's perspective, looking down as the blonde twink in the video stroked the cock of the man before him. He knelt before the bigger man, settling between his thighs, and the Alpha's cock looking huge in the small hands of the blond.
But I struggled to focus on the couple, my brain drifting to the Omega in my class. I could imagine him vividly, sitting on his knees under my desk, his delicate mouth wrapped around my cock as he reached between his legs to eagerly stroke himself, maybe his fingers sliding further down to explore his dampening hole.
Choosing to abandon the video and let my fantasies take over, I used my free hand to reach below my shaft, cupping my balls and squeezing them lightly before tugging them gently downwards, pulling them away from my body. In my fantasy, the Omega would lean down upon command to lick them, maybe even take each ball into his mouth, and the idea had my head tilted back and suppressed a moan. My upper teeth bit into my bottom lip as my hips began to thrust forward, fucking my fist as if it were his mouth. I imagined him struggling to take my Alpha cock down his tiny throat, eyes watering at the corners, but he wouldn't complain, my hands sliding through his soft hair to guide him. The pressure began to build at the base of my spine, my balls tightening in response, and I sat straight in my chair and looked around me. Cursing at myself for not having a box of tissues, I settled on the microfiber cloth I generally kept nearby for cleaning my computer monitor. I chose to replace my palm with the cloth, using it to rub along my shaft as I imagined the Omega stroking himself in time with my movements, eager for me. Briefly, I wondered if he would swallow before the pleasure blinded me, erupting from my shaft and ending in the cloth.
Post-nut clarity can be a bitch, and I groaned in frustration and disgust as I stuffed myself back into my pants and tossed the cleaning cloth into my laptop case to wash when I got home. The emotions that consumed me were so foreign that I couldn't organize them properly. Anger, regret, shame.
Those I understood. It was the confusion and desire for that Omega that I couldn't understand. How incredibly unsatisfied I was; it wasn't enough, but it had to be.
First thing first, he wasn't mine. He was real, not a fantasy, and in no way, shape, or form mine. He would come to my classroom twice a week for an hour and a half for a lesson and then leave. Sure, he was the first Omega I felt an unbridled desire for. The first that I could scent, the first my Alpha acknowledged, and I had zero answers as to why. He was a stranger, yet the pull was distracting. But…not mine.
Secondly, and most importantly, he was my fucking student! I'll be honest: I never read the handbook on student/teacher relationships because I didn't think it would ever apply to me. It was such a common trope that everyone knew it happened; it was so cliché for it not to, but surely the university had a policy against it, right? I should probably look into that.
Not that things would play out that way, of course. Not at all.
Reaching for my phone, I pressed the contact for Ryan Easton. The Eastons were good family friends, with Ryan and I having gone to high school and college together. The Ellis family has used Easton Medical for a few generations, and I'm pretty convinced we have our own filing cabinet with all our medical histories in it somewhere. When he wasn't working at the family practice part-time, he was generally picking up a few hours at the local Omega clinic run by this university. Being a Beta made it easy for him to treat both designations, and he enjoyed the work.
"Evans!" Ryan's voice boomed over the line, almost making me jump.
"What the fuck Reynolds, you sitting on your phone?" I asked, rolling my eyes at the nickname and using his.
"Kinda. I was looking at Knotters. What's up?"
"Do you have time to squeeze me in for a few blood tests?"
"Always. Everything okay?"
"We'll see," I replied, grabbing my laptop case and leaving my office.
"Well," Ryan said, biting into the sandwich I'd brought him as he reviewed my test results.
"Everything seems pretty normal. Your blood pressure is a little high, but nothing to be concerned about. So what got you in such a state that you needed immediate results? Afraid you picked up something?"
"No, nothing like that," I shook my head, arms crossed over my chest. If everything was normal, then what the fuck was going on with me? Why am I suddenly so aware of a certain Omega? "I met someone."
"Really?!" Ryan looked at me excitedly. "If you tell me you met them on Knotters, I'm going to be pissed. I've been on there for months; all I've gotten were hookups. Which is great, don't get me wrong, but I would love something a little longer than a night."
"Well, yeah. Knotters may be advertised as a dating app, but everyone knows it's for discreet hookups. And when have you ever complained about meaningless sex?"
"Since I needed a date for my brother's pack initiation. You're coming, right?"
"Probably. But you know how I hate those things." Pack initiations were marriages, just under a different name. Instead of marrying one person, you're marrying everyone within that pack. Adam Easton found himself a pack while he was backpacking through the national forests in Canada for a nature photography job he managed to pick up directly out of high school.
Adam was roughly four years younger than us, and he already found himself in a pack with a female Omega; him being a Beta didn't seem to bother anyone in the pack. However, the fact that Adam was younger and the first of the Easton sons to get hitched meant that Ryan was probably getting pressured by his parents to settle down.
"Yea, yea, lone wolf. Though, apparently, not so alone anymore." Ryan gave a sly grin. "But why would meeting someone cause this reaction?"
I studied Ryan for a moment. Being the family doctor, he knew about my medical history and my condition, but it certainly didn't make it any easier to talk with him.
"He's an Omega."
"And?"
"I can scent that he's an Omega," I sighed, avoiding eye contact.
"I'm sorry, what?!" Ryan exploded, almost dropping the sandwich in his hand. "You picked up his scent? I thought that was impossible for you!"
"Why do you think I'm here, having you run so many tests I already knew would return normal? I was hoping something would pop up and I could have answers! My Alpha responded so urgently to him that I had to take care of things in my office!"
"Wait…so you met him at school? Did you knot?"
I knew the question wasn't meant to be rude, but I couldn't help but bristle at it. That's a private thing between me and my Omega, not something I should discuss with my best friend, even if he were a doctor.
"Yes, I met him at the school. And no, I did not. One doesn't normally knot when it's handled solo."
"While that is true, you're not normal, no offense. Generally, when a young Alpha masturbates for the first time, a knot can form, so I was curious about your first solo session since your discovery, from a medical standpoint, obviously. So what now?"
"No fucking clue. Don't mention a thing to my parents. I would prefer it if none of this made it into my file, but how else will you explain the blood work?"
"Easy. You came in for a routine check-up. Your last one was two years ago, and I've been nagging you to come in. So, what are you going to do about the Omega? I take it you're not dating."
"No, we're not." I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. Lord knows I wish we were. I would give anything to leave this office and wrap my arms around my Omega. Just having him by my side would be nice. Maybe a late lunch before we headed back home and — "Well then," Ryan said, cutting me off, amused, looking at the bulge that seemed to be forming in my pants.
"Oh, for fuck's sake!" I blushed, crossing my legs and putting my jacket over my lap to hide it from his view. "Is this going to be a thing now? Am I a teenager all over again, getting turned on at the slightest thought? I wasn't even thinking of anything sexual! How am I supposed to hide this while I teach? It's a little hard to give a lecture with a fucking hard-on!"
"I mean, you could just fuck the Omega."
"Not an option," I growled.
"Get a cock cage?" Ryan teased, his eyes glinting. "Male chastity is all the rage these days."
I raised an eyebrow at him. That wasn't a bad idea. It would prevent me from getting too hard, and surely discrete ones exist. I could wear it when I leave for the day and take it off when I get home. It would only be worn a few hours a day and twice weekly since my class met on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Though to get used to it, I should probably wear it around the house like a pair of new shoes.
"Jesus, I was joking!"
"And yet," I grinned broadly.
If you had told me I would one day be measuring the circumference and diameter of my cock for a fucking chastity device, I would've laughed at you. Yet here I was, sitting at my home computer, my dick in one hand and a tape measure in the other. It was suggested to measure at least three times to get a proper measurement and to do it while the body is warm. After taking a shower, I gathered my measurements and ordered a cage that had nothing to do with fancy designs but everything to do with discretion and functionality for what I needed. I needed it to arrive by Tuesday, so I paid out the ass for rush delivery for it to arrive by Sunday afternoon. That didn't give me much time before it got used on Tuesday, but I figured it was enough. The class was only an hour and a half long; I should be okay, even if I might be uncomfortable.
The cage arrived on time without incident, in the advertised discreet packaging. Figuring out what part goes where was a little cumbersome, but I got everything in the proper place. I tried my hardest to warm up the metal before feeding my softened dick through the chamber, and I swear I felt my balls try to absorb themselves into my body as the cold metal touched me, making it a little difficult to get everything fitted in place.
Once I had done so, there was a noticeable weight on the lower half of my body, but not enough that it could be distracting and uncomfortable. To familiarize myself with the device and being in captivity, I wore the cage most of Monday evening when I got home, and by bedtime, I didn't notice it anymore except for a slight ache in my balls, which I could easily live with.
As Tuesday morning arrived, I slipped the cage in place as if it was a part of my standard routine, leaving the key on top of the dresser. I reached for the gray slacks that I had to dig out from the back of my closet yesterday with a look of hatred and disgust. After trying on an assortment of pants, I learned that jeans showed the cage a little too easily for my comfort, drawing attention to the fact that I was in chastity for my own good. Slacks that had pleats in the front and didn't hug my waist proved to provide the best cage discretion. I used to pride myself on being business casual in jeans and a smart shirt, refusing to conform to the older professors with their slacks and sweater vest travesties. Yet here I was, dressing just like them to hide my desire for an Omega I shouldn't…or couldn't have.
The weather was transitioning from summer to fall, but it couldn't decide how the day would go. I also didn't have control over the temperature in my classroom. Aidyn Keller was one of maybe three Omegas in my class, and Alphas tended to run hot. Because of this, most classrooms had air conditioning pumped into them, lowering the temperature even in the dead of winter. Finally deciding on a thin quarter-sleeved sweater, I pulled it over my head and took a deep breath before grabbing my coffee travel mug and my laptop bag and leaving my condo.