THE NEW DOLL

Leda had acquired her history lessons in school as well as anyone else,

but that didn’t mean all the questions about her world had been resolved.

Details of the thousand-year war that had destroyed humanity had been

discussed to exhaustion. Those who survived had been forever changed by

the biological and viral agents that were used without approval by all sides as

the world dissolved in war. But huge gaps existed in the fossil record,

so it was impossible to know how far they had come from their ancestors.

She had wanted to explore history at the College, perhaps become an

academic or a researcher and unearth the secrets that hadn’t withstood the

great wars of the past. According to the archive records, the people of Earth

past had used nuclear energy not to power their world but to destroy it. That

destruction had forced civilization into the sky patterns and off of the

large swathes of the planet too injured by fallout and radiation to be

habitable.

The wealthy ones kept themselves sequestered in the highest levels, also called the Aquila. The air was purest there with a cleared view of the red-hazed atmosphere faced by smoky clouds like gusts from a water pipe.

There had not ever been Alphas or Omegas for that matter. She had

heard stories of humans who escaped the planet in massive Airships

before the worst of the destruction. Some said that they were still out there, whole civilizations that flourished in the stars without the sickness and ravage that existed down below. The space fleet had never discovered any evidence of their existence. Just another story to tell around the fire at night to soothe

those naive enough to hope for something better.

Leda often wondered what it must have been like to have the freedom to

choose your fate, to not be so trapped by a trick of birth. Alphas

ruled the Aquila, for justifications that went beyond just their physical size and strength. The ability to oversee was written into their biology. By contrast, Betas and Omegas had no power to challenge them whether or not they desired to. One primal howl and the lesser dynamics would be decreased to a quivering mass on their knees.

But Omegas had it worst of all. They were thought to have an innate need

for subservience, one that was very hard to overcome. Even with the

chemical restraints that inhibit hormone response, the urge was impossible to ignore.

Most Omegas, of the few that existed, agreed to their biology. The

fortunate ones were bonded to powerful Alphas, mated and bred then kept as pets in the gilded cells of the sky levels. Others used chemical cocktails formulated in black market labs to prevent the natural response to an Alpha and prevent a heat cycle.

The alterants were more reliable than they used to be. 

Leda had listened to horror stories of Omegas whose chemical castration had ceased to function at

inopportune times, finding themselves contended and mated against their will, or worse. Not all Alphas could curb their baser urges during a rut. An

Omega caught unawares might not withstand. It was expected that Omegas reveal their orientation after entering puberty, when the dynamic generally became obvious, enduring Alpha attention in exchange for a better life. The only way up for a hovel-born Omega was trading cunt for satisfaction.

Except Omegas had no rights. In the eyes of the law, laid down by Main central Command, Omegas were property. Alphas in politics spun this to be to the Omegas benefit, retaining the line that an Omega only remained safe through mating. Alphas could not be expected to maintain constant restraint of their urges and a free Omega faced the endless risk of being ravaged. They needed to be “protected”.

It was total bullshit, of course.

Alphas seized what they wanted from the Betas and Omegas of the lower

levels. Just because they’d written their autonomy into law, able to violate without the fear of ever being held accountable, didn’t make it right.

Leda had depleted much of her childhood dreading the onset of puberty and the disclosure of her dynamic. Although one could never be sure until a child came of age, some signs had been there from the onset.

Her small stature and the nature of her conduct had established the

possibility early on. Her Omega mother had already given birth to a Beta

female, her sister, which heightened the likelihood that a subsequent child

would be of the rarest dynamic.

Their parents had always prepared her for the chance, the waiting had

hung like a mirage over the entirety of her childhood. 

Fortunately, the family had made preparations. She did not discover until she was a teenager that

her mother had been stashing the medication needed to suppress her

biological reaction, making her appear to be Beta on even the closest

examination.

She’d always understood herself to be cursed. Her parents had died shortly after she reached the age of puberty and endured her first, and only, heat cycle. Her mother had educated her as best she could. She had supplied clean pillows and bedding so that Leda could build a nest, creating one became a compulsive need in the haze of estrous. And she had also sat vigil on the other side of the locked door, whispering consolations, as Leda had scratched at the walls and begged for the discharge that only a rutting Alpha could give.

An Omega in heat was practically irrational, desperate to be fucked and

claimed by the most prominent Alpha in range of her scent. The thought of

enduring another cycle of estrous made Leda feel sick to her stomach.

In her darkest moments, Leda became certain that she caused her

parents’ deaths. They had been removing the remains of her nest which was drenched in the fluid of an estrous-high Omega. Even though the bedding had been double-bagged and strongly secured, Leda wondered if

that had been enough to hide the odor of her slick. Her mom had been claimed by her father, which should have been enough to make her unattractive enough to the average Alpha that they could stay in control of their rut. What else could have attracted the guardian Alpha who had been policing the streets that day? The report provided to the family had underlined that the Alpha who killed her parents had maintained a clean service record before the attack. So what would have motivated him to mount her mother, then kill them both when her father had tried to fight him off?

It was not as if she could ask him. The Alpha had been put to death after a

perfunctory executive hearing. Contributing to the demise of a fertile

Omega was an instant death sentence, regardless of the conditions.

So Leda had always wondered if it had been the smell of her slick that had attracted the Alpha and made him lose control like that. And she had

become even more certain it was true as the years passed.

And that was why she continued to swallow the alterants despite horrible side effects, like stomach cramping and constant headaches. It was why she would never willingly reveal her orientation even if death were the only option. Being an Omega only brought injury and degradation.

She quit the College out of guilt to care for her brother and sister. Even

though Cythia was older, finding work would be impossible with her

Look. They had pushed to the lowest levels to save money. But that

had only increased their problems. The air in the hovels, heavy with

pollution had given her brother breathing problems. The weekly medications needed to keep his lungs functioning were another expense that they could not afford even if she worked day and night at the Diner. And spending for the treatments made it difficult to save the money needed to move back to the middle levels where he could find relief.

Just another reason that she felt she had no choice but to take the offer from Ceres House.

She had to remind herself that any trauma she suffered served a purpose. Even her fears, because it kept her focused on what was at stake.

This was the greatest risk of her short life. 

"Are you wearing a nightgown?"

The mocking amusement in the Whoremonger’s voice as he surveyed her at the door made Leda feel equal parts self-conscious and irritated. She had already entered the practical limits of her ability to cope just by arriving at Ceres House. She wasn’t in the climate to be insulted. Her nerves were perturbed after enduring the silent, hour-long ride in a

dimmed skycar. Two large men had sat in the driver’s and front passenger position, neither had so much as turned their head to speak to her. They had arrived at this Ceres house, an apartment big enough to fit practically her entire neighbourhood, just so that an old Alpha could mock her apparel.

“Should I run back home for my matching fuzzy slippers?”

“Careful, my dear.” The tiny smile disappeared from his lips, leaving a

glower. “At least a few of our clients will want to beat that attitude right

out of you.”

Criticized, Leda looked down at the floor to hide her frown. She had

spent a lifetime combatting an urge to submit and now this is what they had

reduced her to. She was here and doing this. Her breath became shallower and more rapid as the implication of what was about to occur finally seemed to sink into her.

The Whoremonger noticed the stricken look that crossed her face and slid up to her side.

“May I?”

Leda nodded, unable to speak. He put a supporting arm around her

shoulder and accompanied her to a small sofa. The tastefully decorated hallway spun around her. She had to concentrate all of her attention on the sparkling tile floor to keep from throwing up.

“It’s only nerves, you know.” He gently gripped the back of her neck in a

gesture that was more delicate than it should have been.

A beautiful Beta female dressed head-to-toe in black walked by holding a full tray of champagne flutes perfectly aloft. This woman was no Diner worker from the hovels. Leda felt impossibly ineffective as her fingers caught in the simple cotton of her dress. And then she wondered why she minded at all. It would be nice if none of them wanted her and she could walk out of this place with her dignity intact.

The Whoremonger whisked one glass off the tray and held it to her lips in a

smooth movement. 

“Drink.”

She did. Tiny bubbles of carbonation tickled down her throat and she had to

fight the desire to sneeze. He continued to tilt the stem until the flute was empty. A ball of warmth spreads in the pit of her belly and circulates outward until her head felt slightly vague and too heavy for her shoulders.

Leda rarely drank liquor, and the few times she imbibed had not

felt like this.

 “What is in that?”

“A bit of relaxation.” He rose and pulled her up with him. 

“Let us get you out of that odd dress and into something more pleasing to the eye. Then you can join the others.”

Others?

Fifteen minutes later, she stood in the two-story living room of the

Ceres house along with a dozen others, mostly young women. Pictures windows from floor to ceiling looked out on the starry sky. They were high enough to be on top of the clouds. Under any other circumstances, the beauty of it would have subdued her.

But the only excitement she felt at that moment was fear.

She fingered the skirt of the violet lingerie dress that the Whoremonger had chosen for her. He had not insisted on watching her change, which had been

a relief and more formal than she expected. The lacy brim moved gently

around her thighs. It was shorter than anything she had ever worn publicly

before. A cutaway waist disclosed strips of bare skin at her sides, which had gone pink with embarrassment.

Leda clasped her arms around herself and prayed for it all to end quickly.

“First time?”

She bent to meet the cheerful blue eyes of a blonde-haired girl around her

age with a face like a cherub.

“That's obvious?”

The cherub’s smile widened. “New girls always look scared. It will be simpler the next time.”

Leda made a spontaneous noise deep in her throat. “There won’t be a next time."

“Don’t be so sure.” The other girl’s smile receded slightly but then quickly

rebounded.

“I’m Larisa, by the way.”

Leda had no choice but to return her virulent smile. “Leda.”

“Pretty name.” Larisa took a wine glass from a nearby table and raised it to her lips. “At least you haven’t thrown up yet, that’s a good sign.”

It was hard for Leda to believe the other girl could be so relaxed about all this. 

“How many times have you…been here before?”

“Maybe a dozen.” Larisa did a little twirl so the pink skirt of her nightie

flared demurely around her slim legs. “It’s easy money. All you have to

do is act a little Omega for them, wail for their big Alpha knot and move

on with your life a few hundred dollars richer.”

Leda had never been casual about sex. Not just because of the threat that her biology would overcome the alterants, but because the problems it

could effect had never seemed worth it. Even coupling with a Beta seemed

to be more trouble than it was worth. Being bred was out of the question and even with hormonal inhibitors, there was still a risk. Omegas were

awfully fertile. She swallowed around a large lump in her throat. “How does this all get started, exactly?”

Larisa laughed, the sound like the pealing of little bells. “It’s already started, newbie.”

Leda gaze followed where Larisa pointed and she saw the small camera mounted in the corner of the room and to the ceiling, it panned back and forth in a small arc. A little red light blinked on one side, constant and hypnotizing. She stared as the camera rotated to face them, wondering who was watching on the other end and what they would expect from her.

“The cameras we're scattered all over the house, except for the bedrooms of course, ” Larisa said with a shrug, clearly the thought of strangers viewing their every move didn’t faze her in the slightest.

“The Client watches us for a while. If

someone likes the look of you, you’re then taken upstairs to meet them.”

It wasn’t until Larisa pointed them out that Leda saw the two Beta

guards standing in front of the staircase with their arms crossed over their chests.

No justification to worry about that.

Her eyes scanned the room. A small group had gathered near the buffet table, milling and chatting in hushed voices, interspersed by the ocLarisaonal laugh or giggle. An elegant Beta male with soft features and liquid eyes played the piano, his fingers whispering over the keys in mimicry of a more sexual workout.

“Is it only Betas that they bring in here?”

Larisa raised her eyebrows. “Always. An unmated Omega would not even

make it past the door. They’re worth way more than the measly dollars we

get.”

Leda didn’t need to be told that. An unmated Omega was worth her own

value in gold. An Alpha mated to an Omega had a high probability of

producing the rarer dynamics, usually Alpha sons and Omega daughters.

Not to mention the other advantages of mating an Omega. The thought of it made Leda feel nauseous. Coming here had been criminally stupid, dollars or not. And leaving was no longer an alternative. The Ceres house

had its private entrance and the only way down was via skycar.

She was trapped.

Two girls were seated on a love seat near the window. Their heads were close

enough together that, at first, Leda thought they were whispering to each

other. Until one of the girls slipped her hand under the other’s skirt and their

lips closed the already scant gap between them for a passionate kiss.

“Playing to their audience. Fantasy toys, you know.”

Leda turned back to Larisa with confusion twisting her features. “What?”

“We’re all like dolls to them — dolls. And every Client has their type.

Those are fantasy dolls.” Larisa flapped her hand in the kissing girls' direction,

dismissing them.

“that is, every man’s fantasy — that is if he has no imagination.”

“What about you?” Leda asked.

“I’m a baby doll.” Larisa whirled the end of one of her blonde pigtails

between her fingers. “For the Alpha that wants to be a Daddy.”

There wasn’t even a hint of aversion in Larisa’s sunny expression.

“That does not feel even a little bit gross?”

“Not really,” she responded airily. “Alphas who don‘t regularly fuck are

hazardous. What we are doing is basically, a social service.”

Leda fought the impulse to say what she was thinking. Alphas, and a few of

their Beta underlings, ran the city. Places like this preyed on the very people already in vulnerable positions within society. But there was nothing any of them could do to change that. She had no option but to live in this world.

Not that it made any of it right.

“What kind of doll am I?” Leda wasn’t sure what made her ask, even as

the words had already rolled from her lips. 

“There’s something different about you.” Larisa’s voice turned skeptical, and she glanced around the room, looking everywhere but at Leda’s face. “And it might be better if you figure things out for yourself.”

Leda veered away from the writhing girls on the love seat to face Larisa,

whose face had gone very carefully blank. “What is that supposed to

mean?”

Before she could answer, a male voice hovered over Leda’s shoulder. “It’s

time, my dear.”

Leda turned to see the Whoremonger standing behind her, flanked by the two Beta guards who were larger up close than they had appeared from 

across the room. Their faces were as explicit as carved stone. They came

to stand close on each side of her, gripping her firmly by the elbows. She

had the choice between being accompanied or dragged.

She turned to murmur to Larisa over her shoulder. “Please, just tell me.”

The words floated slowly towards her as if carried on the breeze.

“You’re the doll that wants to be broken.”