Work Text
Illumi
Sex work, the only profession an omega can obtain without an alpha permission. It’s legal in most countries, but there are restrictions.
First, omegas must work under a pimp. Only alphas and betas were allowed to be a pimp. Not every omega can become a sex worker. Omegas who haven’t had their first heat can’t be hired. Omegas typically have a heat around the age of fourteen or sixteen years of age. Although in some countries the omega must be at least seventeen, York New wasn’t one of them.
Secondly, the omega must be abandoned or orphaned. If the omega has an alpha guardian, then they can’t become a sex worker without their permission. It’s rare but not unheard of for alphas to do this for extra cash.
Last and the most important, all brothels must be registered to specific red-light districts. Omegas cannot perform or solicitate sex acts outside of these areas. It’s to dissuade pure omegas from picking up the profession. It may be legal, but sex workers are viewed in disdain by the general public. More so by proper omegas than alphas or betas.
I used to be the same many years ago. Now I am an omega sex worker. Now I respect my fellow peers because this job sucks.
It should go without saying that a sex worker's main job description is giving sexual services. If a client wants to fuck you in a skimpy outfit, then you wear it. They want to tie you up, then you let them. They can spank you, whip you, knot any hole they want. But the number one rule that all brothels have is that they cannot claim you. A rule that my current customer didn’t seem to understand. So, I had to properly remind him.
“Ow, you broke my fucking balls!”
A fat balding alpha is on the floor, sitting on his knees. Face pinched in agony as he gently cups his crotch. The alpha gives himself a rub and hisses.
“Fuck, that fucking hurt you whore!”
My lips curl into a sneer, “and I’ll do it again, you know the rules. No biting the scent glands.”
He shoots me a heated glare, “Oh just wait until I get up, I’m gonna make you regret-”
“Security!”
Quick as a whip, the door bursts open, and a large burly alpha in a cheap suit bursts in. She takes a quick look at the scene and without any explanation, she heads towards the customer on the floor.
“Your time is done buddy, permanently.”
The client's face turns dark red, “What do you mean permanently,” he screamed.
“I pay good fucking money for this ugly whore, and that one,” he points a sausage of a finger at me, “Kicked me in the motherfucking balls, I demand a refund and that bitch whipped bloody!”
The security guard raises an inquisitive brow at me, to which I shrug in response. I knew I wasn’t in trouble. Despite how strict and cruel my boss can be, Pariston didn’t stand for clients like this. All the omegas under his control had permission to defend themselves in a claim bite situation.
The guard rolls her eyes and reaches for the scruff of the client's neck. She picks him up as if he weighs less than an expensive Pomeranian and drags him towards the front door.
“H-hey, what the hell! Why am I the one being hoisted out, I’m the fucking customer?!”
“As I said before buddy, your time is permanently done. We have three rules here at the Cat’s Alley. You pay upfront, we don’t give refunds, and you don’t steal the merchandise. You tried to claim one of our omegas, and we don’t do business with thieves.”
With a single toss, the guard throws the client out on his naked ass.
“Grr, I’m going to report this shitty ass place to the government.”
The client scrambles to his feet and stomps towards the brothel’s parking lot. His car is parked nearby, a fancy black sedan. He swings open the car door and shouts over his shoulder.
“I’ll have this place shut down in an instant, you’ll regret fucking with me! I know people in high places, you mark my word!”
“Yeah, yeah get the fuck out of here before you get dumped in the river.”
The client snarls something unintelligible as he starts his car. With a terrible screech of his tires, the alpha speeds out of the parking lot, and his car disappears on the horizon.
The guard rubs at her chin with a sigh, “You all right I?”
“Peachy,” I sighed, “This is the seventh time an alpha has attempted that on me. If I’m so desirable, why am I still earning peanuts at this job.”
The guard chuckles, “You earn more than most of the omegas under Pariston, plus you have an army of pups at home to burn your cash through. I’m sure the boss will promote you to better clients soon enough.”
I grab a package of cleansing wipes and clean myself up. I wasn’t too much of a mess thanks to the little scuffle, but there were still a few droplets of cum plastered on my skin.
“I can only dream that Pariston will invest in me that way, but I think he hates me.”
“Hahaha, probably. Although seeing how he treats his favorites, that might be a good thing.”
I feel a shiver crawl down my spine. I was all too aware of how Pariston treats his favorites. It’s not a title I would like to bear. But the money would be worth it if it meant keeping the pups fed and the heat turned on during the winter.
Once cleaned up, I climb out of the bed and walk towards my clothes which were neatly folded on a nearby dresser.
While putting on my clothes, I glance towards the guard and ask, “Who’s driving the car today?”
The alpha grimaces “I heard the boss’s right hand is driving today.”
As if the day couldn’t get any worse. If Parison’s right hand was driving the car today, that means Pariston would be riding along with him. The pimp never went too far away from his trusted bodyguard.
“Well, I guess I better get a move on, don’t want to piss of his royal highness.”
The guard nods in understanding “See you around, I. Try not to get into any more trouble.”
“No promises,” I call back, walking through the door and into the cold air.
It’s the middle of autumn, and soon winter would be approaching. I was not looking forward to it. Having to wait outside in the cold in a skimpy outfit wasn’t fun. Of course, I’m used to it, this isn’t my first winter working as a prostitute, but I still hated the cold.
I make my way out of the motel’s parking and towards a familiar group of omegas huddled up together in a corner. They all wore similarly skimpy outfits and wore a sparkly gold collars around their necks. The obvious tell-tell sign that they were Pariston’s omegas. However, there is a face that I recognize that makes me happiest the most.
“What’s up, Pikachu.”
A blonde omega with bright scarlet eyes glances up towards me, and a wide smile breaks out on his face. The smaller omega breaks into a short run before jumping into my arms and wrapping himself around me like a snake.
“Illu!” Kurapika purrs in a slurred voice.
It seems Kurapika has dipped into his fun stash tonight.
“Been smoking, little mouse?”
The blonde rubs his scent onto me, a behavior I was both used to and okay with. I didn’t like scenting with people outside my family. But I have unintentionally adopted Kurapika as pack. We were both rookies under Pariston around the same time. We’re also roommates in the brothel dorms, so we see each other a lot.
“Hmm, only a little bit. Nothing bad, I promise you. I’ll give you some if you don’t tell Paris.”
I chuckle, “I’ll take your offer, but I hear your darling Paris is picking us up tonight. So, I doubt you’ll be able to hide it from him.”
The blonde sits up and nearly drops out of my arms, if not for my tight hold on him.
“Pariston’s picking us up, shit I’m gonna get it” the blonde groaned.
“Can I still have a hit?”
The blonde pouts, but nods his head “Yeah… If I’m going down, I’m taking you with me.”
“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Kurapika drops down onto his feet, then starts digging inside a small purse hanging from his sides. He whips out a fat blunt, and a pink lighter.
“This is my new special blend of herbs, grown straight out of my dealer's baby mama’s house. I’m telling you this is my greatest recipe yet.”
“My, how fancy. I’ve always wanted to smoke a premium La Maison de la Baby Mama.”
Kurapika shoots me an annoyed glare, “Pardon my French, but the shut the fuck up.”
I stare back at him with a hollow gaze, “…Non.”
Kurapika tries to keep a straight face, but his high state of mind causes him to fail and he’s turned into a bundle of hysterical laughter.
“You-You’re such an asshole, haha, you know I don’t want to laugh right now!”
He shoves the blunt into my mouth and lights the other end. I hold it between two fingers and give a good long inhale. After a few minutes, I drag it away from my lips and let out a slow exhale.
“Can’t stop a comedic genius, so deal with it.”
“Hah, comedic genius my ass. I’ve seen funnier jokes from a talking rock.”
My brows furrow, “Rocks don’t… You’re not meddling with mushrooms or hallucinogenic shit, are you?”
The blonde freezes, eyes wide and guilty, “No…”
I squint but say nothing, opting to take another hint of the blunt instead. I don’t want to start an argument with him, especially after that last shitty client. But I also want to smack the absolute shit out of Kurapika right now. Weed, cigarettes, a little heavy drinking is all I can let slide. But the idea of him taking anything harder than that is where I draw the line.
“Wow, either you’re really pissed with me, or you had a rough night.”
“Yeah, shitty customer,” I grunt.
Kurapika frowns, “What happened?”
“The bastard tried to claim me.”
“Oh shit, again?”
The blonde immediately comes to my side and hugs me. I technically didn’t need the comfort, but I didn’t hate it either. Overall, I was just tired and fed up.
It’s illegal for omegas to work without an alpha's permission. Try to show up to an interview without an alpha at your side and you’ll get thrown out on your ass. I know this because I’ve had it done to me multiple times before I came across the Cat’s Alley.
As I stated before I’m a prostitute, the Cat’s Alley is the name of the brothel I work for. Sex work is the only work an omega can legally do, but only if we have a pimp. No pimp then we can’t do sex work.
Fortunately for me, getting hired by a brothel isn’t hard, they’re always looking for young omegas to snatch off the streets. But there is one rule we just can’t break. We are not allowed to have an alpha, period. No older brothers, no husbands, or the most likely case, no forced mate bonds. It's an unfair rule, especially with alphas like the client I had tonight. But there’s a legal reason behind it.
Pimps can legally take in orphaned or abandoned omegas if the omega signs a contract. It’s technically a form of adoption under the law. The intention is to help omegas who wouldn’t get a fair chance in a matchmaking house or an orphanage. These types of omegas are usually past the age of twenty-one or people with medical issues that would brand them a ‘defect’. I chose this occupation because I have three little siblings to protect. As the eldest, it’s my job to keep them safe and well cared for. Getting picked up by social services and getting split apart would have only put us in more danger. The Cat’s Alley isn’t the best place, and my pimp is a grade-A knot-head. But it is my only choice at survival.
Alphas like the client from earlier are the absolute worse. You’d think that they would keep the omegas they forcefully claim, but the majority of the time they don’t. Mostly because of the legal troubles it would cause. Forcefully claiming a brothel omega is the equivalent of stealing a bottle of milk from a grocery store. You’re going to have to pay for the item if you’re caught, as well as the legal fees and fines. The other reason is because some just like the thrill of the hunt and ruining the lives of vulnerable whores. It’s sickening, but there is nothing we omegas can do about it.
We are nothing more than property to alphas. Toys to be used one day and toss away the next. But what’s worse is that most omegas are okay with this until it's them who are thrown away. I can’t say that I wasn’t the same a long time ago. Protected by my parents and surrounded by wealth. There was never a reason to question my place in the world as an omega. Never a reason to rebel against alphas or think twice about omegas who met misfortune. Now I wished I did, wished I had used what little influence I had to make change where I could. Now I’m at the bottom of the barrel and a scourge to the very society that used to revere me. Well, no point mourning the past. At least I’m alive, along with most of my siblings.
I take another hit of the blunt. My body was starting to feel light, my head becoming fuzzy and nice with every hit. Soon the ache in my cunt, the burn of my throat, and the throb of the bruises I’ve sustained today faded the looser I became.
I stare in awe at the blunt in my hand, “This shit is really strong. I don’t think I’ve ever got like this, this fast before.”
Kurapika smiles, “I told you it’s my best recipe! Give it a few more minutes and you’ll start laughing harder than Kalluto on laughing gas.”
***
A couple of hours have passed by, and our ride still hasn’t picked us up yet. It was getting colder the longer we all stood out here. Even huddling up together to share our body heat wasn’t helping. Kurapika and I have managed to finish the blunt by ourselves. Despite the lovely high we got off it, we were beginning to regret smoking it all in one sitting.
“I’m so fucking hungry,” Kurapika cried.
The blonde's stomach roars in agreement. He places his hands against it and gives it a few gentle rubs.
“You hear that Illu, you hear how my baby cries? I’m such a bad mother!”
I would have laughed at his corny joke, but my stomach was practically eating itself right now.
It wasn’t normal for the car to be this late. Sometimes there would be a thirty-minute delay. But four hours have passed since I took my last client. The fact that Pariston was riding along in the car makes this whole situation even more strange. Pariston is very strict with the rules. If the car was supposed to come at a certain time, then it had to be on time, period. So, what’s with the delay?
“You think something happens?” I voiced out loud.
Kurapika shivers “Hopefully not. Nothing's worse than driving with a pissed of Pariston.”
“True, he’s usually late for things when he’s upset. Hopefully, it's not with one of us,” I sighed.
“If he is, promise me you’ll take care of Pairo while I’m gone,” Kurapika cries dramatically.
I raise a brow at him, “I will, but what have you done recently to piss him off?”
Kurapika hums for a moment before smirking, “Don’t know. But then again I do a lot of things that piss him off lately.”
“For your sake and my sanity, I hope your joking. You know you can’t afford to get on Pariston’s bad side.”
The blonde deflates with a sigh, “I know…”
“Then why do it?”
Kurapika doesn’t respond, or more so he doesn’t get a chance to. Because a few moments later the van finally pulls up to the sidewalk. The logo of our brothel is painted vividly on the side of the door as a form of advertisement.
The door opens and Pariston steps out. He’s wearing an obnoxious sparkling bright gold suit. He walks up to us, a couple of bodyguards flocking his side. A sickeningly sweet smile plastered on his face. But looking closely, I can see an edge of irritation in his body language.
“Hello, my beautiful omegas,” he greets us cheerfully.
He starts methodically inspecting each of us with his eyes, “I’m glad to see you all still in one piece!”
His eyes land upon me, and he looks me up and down more than once, “Well maybe not all of us. I, you look a little worse for wear,” The alpha says worriedly.
“What happened?”
“I’m fine,” I answer automatically, fear billowing in my stomach.
“Just a little issue with my last john, nothing more. It’s been handled.”
Pariston stares at me silently, his expression just as unreadable as my own. I worry he’ll start pushing me for more details, but he doesn’t.
“Good to hear,” he says before turning his attention to Kurapika.
“Ah Kurapika, my favorite little whore. I hope you haven’t been disorderly while on the clock today,” the alpha warns, obviously referring to the blonde omega’s drug abuse.
Kurapika sobers up and smiles, “I’ve been good,” he purred.
I hoped my roommate is telling the truth. Kurapika was barely four months out of recovery after the bender he had last year. It was honestly a traumatic time for both me and the pups. I still don’t know how the blonde spiraled out of control like that. Because before that bender, Kurapika was nothing more than a pothead. Next thing I know he’s taking ecstasy, a bit of acid, mushrooms, and whatever else he could get his hands on. Part of me wants to blame Pariston. The alpha was the one who got Kurapika into drugs in the first place.
Kurapika never could cope with brothel life. Honestly, none of the omegas did. But I always felt like Kurapika took it the hardest of us all. If I had to describe the Kurapika back then I would say he was, intelligent and haughty. Most of all the blonde was prideful. I’m sure ending up in a brothel hurt that pride. I doubt he ever wanted to end up here, I certainly didn’t.
Kurapika tried his best to hold on to his dignity. He would always tell me he would never let the brothel break him. He would do the job, but he would never pretend to like it, never behave how he was expected to. Unfortunately for him, that attitude became his downfall.
Pariston loves nothing more than a challenge, and Kurapika was the perfect new toy for him to play with. A couple of months under the alpha’s special care and Kurapika became a shell of his former self. It hurt to see him like that, but I couldn’t bring myself to help him. I didn’t want to end up on Pariston’s hit list. I regret my lack of action back then. Because soon enough Pariston crawled his way into the blonde's heart and gave him a cure for his pain. I’m not entirely sure what all of it was. All I know is that it changed the blonde into a different person from the Kurapika I used to know.
Pariston approached the blonde omega with a predatory swagger. He grabs hold of Kurapika’s chin and forces him to make eye contact with him.
“I certainly hope so, pup. I don’t want to hear any complaints from clients about you. We can’t have another repeat of last year, right?”
Kurapika begins to shake, “R-Right.”
“Let's hope so baby,” Pariston purrs, gently slapping the omega’s cheek.
He lets go of the smaller blonde and turns his attention back to the rest of us.
“All right everyone, into the van. You all have the day off tomorrow and your weekly allowances have been deposited into your accounts.”
There is a round of excited energy that spreads between the omegas. But I couldn’t bring myself to share in the merriment. Tomorrow was Saturday, and usually the busiest day of the week for us. It’s not normal for Pariston to close the business that day unless something important was coming up.
Kurapika must have been thinking the same thing because we share a confused look. I hoped that maybe he would know something, after all, he was one of Pariston’s favorites. As bad as that was, Kurapika was privy to information that the rest of them would never know. I have a bad feeling something terrible was going to take place over the weekend.
***
A half-hour later and we were dropped off at the brothel dorms. It’s a seven-floor apartment building owned by Pariston. The building houses all of Pariston’s workers, From the prostitutes to the alpha security guards. Even some of the beta staff workers lived here too.
Kurapika and I are the last to get out of the van. We were about to head inside when Pariston stops us.
“Illumi, Kurapika. I need to talk to you both in my office for a second.”
I frown “Both of us, sir?”
The alpha tilts his head to the side, “Must I repeat myself?”
Kurapika’s eyes nearly pop out of his head, “Nope! We heard you the first time, right Illu?”
“Uh…Yeah, let’s go.”
We let the alpha walk in first before following in after him. Pariston didn’t live in the dorms, but he did have an office set up on the ground floor. But he didn’t use it nearly as much as his office at the strip club.
Once in his office, Pariston takes a seat around his desk. Kurapika and I on the other hand remain standing because there wasn’t any place for us to sit.
“Now I’m just going to cut to the chase,” Pariston began, glancing between the both of us.
“I had a meeting today with a very important client. Somebody with enough power and sway to shut me down with a snap of his fingers.”
Pariston’s words take me by surprise. I can’t even imagine anyone with more power and influence than the owner of the Cat’s Alley. Pariston was practically king of York New’s red-light district. Who could have more power than him, other than the president of the United States of Saherta?
“Anyways this client of mine wants an omega to rent out for his rut. I usually don’t lend my whores out for such purposes, rutting alphas are unpredictable after all. But I can’t exactly say no to this client.”
My stomach starts to cramp, and my mouth feels dry. I hope Pariston wasn’t planning on offering one of us to this alpha. I certainly didn’t want to be left alone in a room with an alpha in rut. The bastard could try to claim me or worse. I can’t afford to lose this job; how would my siblings eat?!
“Sir, I can’t-”
“You don’t have a choice. My client has asked for a specific type of omega, and you fit his description to a T. This deal can make me a lot of money, and I don’t think the other four omegas I got picked will hold a candle to you.”
I want to scream at him. I want to shout ‘No!’ at the top of my lungs and run out of the room. But I stop myself before I can. Starting a fight with Pariston would just end me in more hot water than I’m already in.
“Now it’s not all bad news. Chances are you won’t even get picked. But if you are, it will prove to be a wonderful opportunity for you. Hell, play your cards right and I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to take you on as his sugar baby.”
Kurapika tries to give me a comforting smile, “A sugar baby could be a nice gig, Illu. Your rank will go up a whole lot and the client might gift you an apartment too.”
The offer did sound tempting. The Cat’s Alley runs on a ranking system with all its prostitutes. The amount we earn depends on the level of our rank. The ranking system goes as follows: F, being the lowest rank, then D, followed by C, B, A and finally ending with S, the highest rank. A weird system since S is lower on the alphabet, but that’s just how Pariston set it up.
Currently, I’m rank C and the amount I earned matched the minimum wage. Unfortunately given the high cost of living in York New, I’m left with nothing after bills and other expenses. The only reason we can afford a few extra things is because Kurapika was one rank higher and brings in extra funds into our household. I’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this, but could I accept the cost? Although, Pariston did say I had no choice in the matter.
“Sigh… I’ll try to clean up nice, sir.”
The alpha flashes me a toothy grin, “Excellent, make sure to be ready by noon tomorrow. I won’t tolerate any tardiness, so get to bed early tonight.”
“Yes sir, I’ll make sure to get there on time,” I promised halfheartedly.
“Good, now scram. I have things to discuss with my lovely little toy,” the alpha purrs eyes gazing hungrily at Kurapika.
I glance towards Kurapika, I didn’t want to leave him alone with Pariston. But the blonde gives me a reassuring smile.
“I’ll leave food in the fridge for you,” I tell him.
“Thanks, you’re the best.”
Nodding goodbye, I leave the two alone and head upstairs to our apartment.
The moment I’m inside I strip myself of my clothes and jump into the tub for a refreshing hot shower. Then I bundle myself up in comfortable warm pajamas and the check on the pups. They’re all sleeping soundly together in a room they shared.
The apartment only had two bedrooms in total. Kurapika and I shared a room, while the pups shared the other. It wasn’t a bad arrangement, especially with how cold it could get in the dorms. But there is a sense of claustrophobia with how small our living arrangements were. Pretty soon this all could change.
I take out two boxes of mac and cheese from out the cupboards. I pour both into a large old pot full of boiling water and wait for the noodles to cook. As it cooks, I can’t help but think of tomorrow and this mysterious client.
Was I the omega he was looking for or was Pariston just pulling wool over my eyes? If I succeed in winning the alpha’s favor, will I improve my life or will it spiral further down into hell? So many questions with no answers. An overwhelming sense of foreboding hangs over me.
I look up to the ceiling, staring at the cracks in the paint. Looking for anything and nothing all at the same time.
“Father, mother, Milluki,” I plead “Please… Please watch over me.”
I lapse into silence as if waiting for someone to respond. But there was nothing. A reality I still struggle to stomach.