[ He'd lied about his age when he interviewed for the job. To be fair, the owner of the club knew very well he was lying. Could take one look at the doe eyed waif of an omega and knew he wasn't 21. But he also knew desperation when he heard it, knew from the waver in Junpei's voice that if he couldn't find work soon, he'd turn to something even more sleazy. More dangerous. A little fishing and he was able to find out the kid's story: Seventeen, relentlessly bullied by alphas at his school both verbally and physically, mother suddenly dead under suspicious circumstances and no other family that gave a damn.
So he gave Junpei to one of his most senior hosts to train. The one who'd had a similar rough history, who once was a little sad slip of an omega himself needing a miracle. In a little under a month the owner was shocked at what Junpei had become: The boy was a double threat. He could be both the ideal submissive, demure omega that worshipped the ground you walked on and the bratty, difficult omega that gave the challenge some craved. It didn't take long at all for him to build up a client base, and soon he was making more money in a week than other teens working more menial jobs would see in a year.
He'd been at the club for about six months when he met him for the first time. It was a typical Saturday night, he was totally booked and had just finished with one of his regulars. He was in the bunny waitress outfit he wore a couple times a week, shiny black material hugging his slight form with ears on a headband to match, scandalously high heels and purple eyeshadow.
As runner informed him his next appointment was there, a new one whose friends were treating him for his birthday. Junpei got ready in his booth, checking himself in a pocket compact he'd slip back into his costume a second later. Newbies tended to be shy, unsure. They were less stressful than the drunk businessmen by leaps and bounds. He wondered idly what kind of experience this one would choose, crossing one leg over the other and waiting for him to arrive. ]
@natzoom Kink Club A/B/O AU
So he gave Junpei to one of his most senior hosts to train. The one who'd had a similar rough history, who once was a little sad slip of an omega himself needing a miracle. In a little under a month the owner was shocked at what Junpei had become: The boy was a double threat. He could be both the ideal submissive, demure omega that worshipped the ground you walked on and the bratty, difficult omega that gave the challenge some craved. It didn't take long at all for him to build up a client base, and soon he was making more money in a week than other teens working more menial jobs would see in a year.
He'd been at the club for about six months when he met him for the first time. It was a typical Saturday night, he was totally booked and had just finished with one of his regulars. He was in the bunny waitress outfit he wore a couple times a week, shiny black material hugging his slight form with ears on a headband to match, scandalously high heels and purple eyeshadow.
As runner informed him his next appointment was there, a new one whose friends were treating him for his birthday. Junpei got ready in his booth, checking himself in a pocket compact he'd slip back into his costume a second later. Newbies tended to be shy, unsure. They were less stressful than the drunk businessmen by leaps and bounds. He wondered idly what kind of experience this one would choose, crossing one leg over the other and waiting for him to arrive. ]