by Dex Bass
Baby for My Omega
By Dex Bass
Book 1 of the series MPreg Hospital
Copyright 2017 Dex Bass
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One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Author’s Afterword
One
“MPreg Hospital is in downtown Springville, and provides comprehensive care to all pregnant men and their partners and children.” Oscar Oliphant looked emphatically into the News Nine TV camera. “Interested patients can call MPreg Hospital at 777-BABY.” Oscar read out the phone number clearly, so every alpha and omega who needed help with male pregnancy would have a comfortable, accepting place to turn to. MPreg Hospital was exactly what Springville’s alphas and omegas needed. Oscar was all too happy to tell his TV audience about it.
It wasn’t easy being a pregnant man. Oscar knew it, and he was glad to help his fellow omegas -- even if those patients of MPreg Hospital were all pregnant, while Oscar only badly wanted to be pregnant. No sour grapes. Oscar would just pursue pregnancy any way he knew. The only possibly way was artificial insemination.
Vilma smiled her million-dollar smile at Oscar. The smile was directed more at the cameras, and maybe at recruiters at some bigger-city TV station, than at Oscar. She was obviously proud of herself for having just described the basics of MPreg Hospital. For her, MPreg Hospital was just another random news story. For Oscar, MPreg Hospital was personal.
Oscar was relieved that he and other omegas in Springville would finally have a hospital to go to. They’d no longer have to travel to a bigger city or explain the male pregnancy to yet another clueless doctor who wasn’t up to date on the MPreg revolution. Doctor Adam Albright, the discoverer of the male pregnancy phenomenon, and the lead researcher in male pregnancy care, served as chief of staff at MPreg Hospital. There was no better place for a pregnant omega — or even for any wanting-to-be-pregnant omega, like Oscar.
As Oscar spoke about MPreg Hospital, Vilma fluttered her eyebrows at him and then at the camera. Maybe she was mocking his omega orientation. Whatever. Oscar didn’t care. He didn’t even consider Vilma a co-worker. Oscar and Vilma appeared on the same news broadcast, but they never actually collaborated on anything — and both of them preferred it that way. “Thanks for that, um, fascinating explanation,” Vilma said after Oscar spoke. He could’ve sworn she was being sarcastic. But it didn’t matter. Oscar was able to reach the omegas who needed information and news about male pregnancy, and that was all that really mattered.
“Thanks, Vilma.” Oscar smiled confidently into the camera and nodded. He knew the first rule of local news: if you don’t know what to do or what to say, just act confident. Mega-confident. It was almost not in Oscar’s omega nature to be mega-confident, but he could try, especially in front of the TV cameras. He’d be mega-confident omega, or something like that.
“Oscar.” Vilma paused and shifted her gaze from the camera in front of her to Oscar sitting at her side. “I’m sorry if I’m asking you a personal question on air, but since you’ve been our longest-serving male anchor, the viewers would love to know—”
“It’s no secret,” Oscar interrupted. He was still pushing himself hard to be confident. He wanted to reveal himself on air before Vilma forcefully outed him. He knew she was about to out him, but if he did it first, it would take all that power away from her.
Oscar spoke from the depths of his core, making his voice a deep baritone as best he could. He didn’t want to seem like a squeaky omega, even if he was an omega, and sometimes a squeaky one. “It’s not a secret at all. It’s on my public Facebook fan page.”
“So.” Vilma paused and looked at Oscar. She looked like she was going to reveal something earth-shattering. “You’re a—”
“Yes, I’m an omega. An unmated omega.” Oscar said it before Vilma could. There was no shame in being an omega. Or at least Oscar didn’t think there was, even if some people snickered at omegas. He’d own his omega-ness. And being able to carry a baby was the best privilege he could hope for, not anything to be ashamed of.
Male pregnancy had started in Springville some fifty years back, at first with one man developing a baby flap, then another man developing knotting in his most intimate organ. They said it may have been a genetic variation caused by solar radiation through the thinning ozone layer. Of course men who could become pregnant did so — and passed on their genes, creating more and more alphas and omegas. And with the ever-thinning ozone layer and increasing solar radiation, even male children of heterosexual parents were often born alpha or omega.
Pregnant omegas were originally considered medical curiosities. They had their odd pregnancy flaps, and oddest of all, they’d become pregnant from receptive anal intercourse. They delivered happy, healthy babies, just like any parent, even if the delivery was either through the pregnancy flap or cesarian section. Old-fashioned obstetricians weren’t quite sure what to do with pregnant omega patients. But Doctor Adam Albright had started his medical career specifically focusing on male pregnancy medicine. He was ridiculed, at first. Now Adam Albright, MD was the chief of staff at MPreg Hospital. And his patients adored him.
“I was going to ask you about whether you’re a patient at MPreg Hospital.” Vilma looked over her left shoulder at the graphic of MPreg Hospital displayed on the giant monitor. It portrayed a macho muscle man wearing only a jockstrap and sporting an impressively large pregnant belly.
“And yes.” Oscar nodded and looked confidently at Vilma, then even more confidently at the camera. “I’m a patient at MPreg Hospital.” He pulled a plastic hospital ID card out of his pocket and flashed it to the camera.
“Congratulations! You should’ve told us that you’re expecting!” Vilma beamed her photogenic smile at the camera. Her pink lipstick reflected from the set lamps pointed at her. She seemed more interested in showing off her teeth to the TV audience in a pregnancy announcement than in actually congratulating Oscar on a pregnancy. And Oscar wasn’t pregnant anyway.
“Not quite yet. As I mentioned, Vilma, I’m not mated. While that doesn’t preclude pregnancy, it does make it a bit more difficult.” Oscar tried to sound coy, but he still wanted to be a little bit honest. At least partly honest.
He normally didn’t hide anything about his personal life from the viewers. He didn’t mind the world knowing that he was an omega but he wasn’t pregnant. Even if his announcement that he was trying to become pregnant turned out to be a mating call. That would be just fine. Every alpha in the world, or at least in Springville, could come running to him. Maybe then he’d finally find his mate, an alpha he knew he’d be naturally attracted to, and who wouldn’t cramp his career as a TV newsman or prohibit him from appearing on TV for millions for viewers. Until he found a loving alpha like that, Oscar would have to stick with artificial insemination if he wanted to become pregnant. Or at least he’d try.
“So, are you trying? I’m sorry. I’m sorry if what I’m asking is too personal.” Vilma’s face said, sorry I’m not sorry. Oscar knew: she thought men shouldn’t be having babies. She wanted things to go back to the way they’d been years ago, before the MPreg revolution. Vilma smirked whenever she discussed something about alphas and omegas on-air, and then she smirked a little more at Oscar when the camera turned off.
“No problem asking.” Oscar was defusing Vilma’s might by announcing that he didn’t care about her smirk and her catty questions. “Yes, trying to becom
e pregnant. And I’m still single, waiting for the right alpha to make my husband.”
“You’re single, but you’re trying to become pregnant? I’m sure our viewers want to know—” Of course it wasn’t the viewers that Vilma was concerned about. It was her own morbid curiosity, that plus her desire to try to hold up Oscar to televised ridicule.
“I’m a patient at MPreg Hospital for artificial insemination.” Oscar said it matter-of-factly. It was matter-of-fact.
Nobody was ashamed of mentioning artificial insemination anymore, not for decades. “I’m trying for a baby with artificial insemination.” Even if the idea of artificial insemination for men was a bit new.
What he didn’t mention was his suspicion that he’d need an alpha after all to get pregnant. He’d try artificial insemination. But he had a sixth sense about being pregnant, or at least he thought he did. He wanted to hope and believe that artificial insemination could make him pregnant. But every time the pregnancy test strip was negative, Oscar wasn’t exactly surprised.
“Artificial insemination!” Vilma did her best to look shocked. She looked like she was clutching her pearls, even if she had no pearls to clutch. She looked like a 1950s woman hearing about a divorce. She was intentionally making artificial insemination sound scandalous. Oscar didn’t take the bait. He didn’t apologize or backtrack.
“Yes. I want to have a baby. I badly want to have a baby.” Oscar spoke directly to Vilma, as if she were a young girl whom he was teaching the ABCs. Except he was only teaching her the alphas and omegas and the MPREGs, not the ABCs.
He was going to explain carefully to her. Really, he was explaining for the TV audience. He didn’t much care what Vilma thought of him, and her snickering opinion toward Oscar couldn’t be changed anyway. But at least when talking to the TV, Oscar could try to help the public at large understand his fellow omegas.
“Vilma, I haven’t met the right alpha yet. So I’m using artificial insemination in order to have a baby.” Oscar nodded at Vilma again, obviously enough that he felt as if the cameras were nodding along with him.
“I see, Oscar. I see. Thank you for that insight.” Of course she was thankful for not being thankful and not sorry for not being sorry. “And that’s all for tonight.”
Vilma looked into the camera very seriously, as if she’d just reported on a natural disaster, not on a man who badly wanted to become a father. “Vilma Rosen signing out, with Oscar Oliphant and the rest of the News Nine team.”
Seemingly, Oscar was spoiled for choice. Horny, musky, fertile alphas were all around him. But none of those potential partners ever seemed right.
None had ever excited him. And most likely, none would go along with Oscar’s chosen career: appearing on TV every evening,
Previous omegas the station had hired as on-air personalities were quickly snapped up by alpha admirers. Those alpha admirers tended toward jealousy and didn’t allow their new omega mates to appear on TV. It was considered a truth of the station that no on-air omega could stay on the air for longer than a few months.
Oscar had told his bosses at the station that as much as he wants to find an alpha mate, he’d never accept a mate who doesn’t let him appear on TV. Being on TV was his career.
It was a modest career working in local news. Oscar Oliphant was no Anderson Cooper, but his job was what he loved. He expected his eventual alpha mate to respect that. That, of course, was another obstacle. He was sure that if the conversation ever got that far with any of his alpha admirers, they would ask him how soon he could quit his TV job and become an omega house-husband for them.
The longer Oscar worked at the station without running away to be an alpha’s house husband, the more his bosses trusted and respect him. They could even send him into places full of unmated alphas, or let him wear particularly flattering clothes on-air, and they knew he wouldn’t run away from his job the next day. He vowed that even if an alpha scooped him up, Oscar would never let anyone take him away from his career. But an alpha who actually appealed to Oscar, and who would accept him appearing on TV every day, seemed to be less and less likely — so Oscar was more and more convinced that artificial insemination was the only way he could fulfill his dream of fatherhood.
Two
The gorgeous omega stood in front of Adam: a lean, lithe man, with a well-defined body even through his clothes, wavy, almost-curly dark brown hair, and a sweet clean-cut face holding beautiful blue eyes that stared directly into Adam’s lust. The omega was still clothed, but Adam smelled him. He could imagine how he looked with his clothes off. Professional demeanor: Adam had to restrain his impulses. He did his best not to breathe too deeply. The omega scent could take over his best attempts to restrain himself. Even if Adam had held his breath in the omega’s presence, his beautiful looks would’ve rushed over Adam’s eyes.
“Your name is — Oscar Oliphant?” Adam blurted it out just because he wanted to force himself to engage this omega patient in conversation rather than letting himself go off on flights of erotic fantasy of making love to this omega. According to his medical records, this patient had been made love to only by artificial insemination, pumped full of sperm donors’ cum through a syringe.
“Yes, Doctor.” This Oscar seemed almost scared of seeing a doctor. Adam breathed deeply again. He looked away from Oscar and looked over at the charts of alphas and omegas at the wall, at the graphics of wombs, at the details of fetal development and nutrition. He felt his own cock and nipples rising to excitement, but he knew not to do anything.
“So your complaint is — we’ve done artificial insemination on you three times already, and you’re still not pregnant, right?”
“That’s right, Doctor. I don’t know what to do next. They say to keep trying, but every time, the discomfort of the procedure, the pains the next day, not to mention the thousands of dollars I’ve been spending.”
“I understand, Oscar.” Adam looked him over, from his brown locks all the way down to his cute brown square-toed dress shoes. He looked like he could be a TV newscaster. “Can I call you Oscar?”
“Sure. You can call me Oscar.” Oscar grinned. His blue eyes went down from Adam’s eyes to the outline of Adam’s manly chest visible even through his doctor’s coat. Then Oscar’s eyes wandered back up to stare into Adam’s eyes. Oscar’s smile was sweet and innocent. He grinned like an eager student.
Oscar’s medical records on Adam’s iPad confirmed him to be twenty-six years old, but he looked a few years younger than that. His skin was smooth and eager and his eyes were bright and friendly. Adam was trying to look away from Oscar, but every time Adam returned his gaze to Oscar, Oscar was still looking at him. Oscar must’ve been drawn to Adam just as much as Adam was drawn to Oscar.
“And you can call me Alph—” No. What the hell hell was Adam doing? Telling his patient to call him Alpha? “You can call me Doctor Albright.”
“Sure, Doctor Albright. And when I first met you, before you allowed me to call you Doctor Albright, what was I supposed to call you then?” Oscar’s gentle eyes met Adam’s eyes. Oscar was holding back a shy grin. His hands roamed his own pants legs. He was looking for his own pants pockets. He slipped his hands into his pockets, as if to hide them, then looked at Adam expectantly. Maybe he was waiting for a clever retort. Adam didn’t have one.
“You were supposed to just call me by my title, I guess.”
“Alpha?” Oscar grinned mischievously. Maybe Adam had misheard.
“What?” Adam asked. He hoped he hadn’t just heard what he’d thought he’d just heard. There was natural attraction between alpha and omega, but Adam’s secret couldn’t get out. His other omega patients had never found him out, and this Oscar guy wouldn’t find him out either, at least if Adam could do anything about it.
Maybe after a long shift, Adam’s ears were playing tricks and he’d heard that magical word, alpha. He hoped Oscar hadn’t really said it. An unmated alpha like Adam wasn’t even supposed to be working at MPreg Hospital if
he was an unmated alpha. It was considered improper, the same way that you don’t hire a fox to watch the henhouse.
His job as a doctor at MPreg Hospital was all Adam had in his life. He didn’t have much else but his job. He also had his money, his lifestyle, his prestige, but that also came from his job. Without his job, he was nobody, nothing. Without the job, he wouldn’t even really feel like an Alpha, even though it was his job where he had to hide being an unmated alpha.
Adam didn’t have a mate or a baby, so he put all his hopes and all his love into his job. He was the chief doctor, the chief of medical staff, the chief of everything. He had single-handedly developed most of the field of male pregnancy medicine. In another hospital Adam would have been the chief of the male pregnancy department, but in this hospital, male pregnancy was the entire hospital. Adam was the most important doctor in the hospital, and he loved it.
Not having a mate made Adam love his job all that much more, but not having a mate was also what could cost him his job. The hospital didn’t even know that he was an alpha, much less an unmated alpha. His patients were almost all omegas. Nobody would trust an alpha, especially an unmated alpha, around a steady stream of omegas, especially unmated omegas. So, as far as the hospital knew, Adam was a heterosexual beta, just a man who had no personal interest in male pregnancy, only a professional and scientific interest.
It was beyond the professional pale that an unmated alpha would be entrusted to take care of the most intimate sexual and reproductive medical issues of omegas. MPreg Hospital didn’t even allow unmated alphas to visit its patient areas. Mated alphas were grudgingly accepted as Mpreg Hospital staff, but only grudgingly, and there was always talk of banning alphas from the employee rosters altogether.
As far as Adam had told his bosses at the hospital, he was just a heterosexual guy, unable to reproduce with another man, and his interest in MPreg medicine was only scientific. Adam remembered the sigh of relief breathed by Dylan Dunsford, the hospital’s head of human resources, when Adam responded to his mention of the “strictly no unmated alphas” hiring policy. He had claimed that not only was he not an unmated alpha, but he wasn’t any kind of alpha or omega. “I’m heterosexual, Mister Dunsford. I’m not even part of the MPreg world. I have a — um — I used to have a girlfriend. Yeah.” At least Dylan had believed Adam’s lie. In fact, Adam was a hungry, horny alpha always dreaming about finding his omega mate. But that was something no past patient of his had been able to figure out, none of his coworkers had been able to figure out, and, Adam hoped, this pretty little omega also wouldn’t be able to figure out.
