Candy

I scanned the grey room, picking out the sallow faces of alphas with nothing else to do but watch a starved omega strip in one of the dirtiest parts of London.

They were the ones I wanted to tempt.

Every night I was out here, trying to earn enough to stay another night in the bed Stevie rented me. He used the bar to take advantage of us, packing all twelve of his girls into a tiny attic space. He took most of our wages for it, but it was somewhere warm to sleep. And I’d rather have that than standing on a street corner in November.

This was my tenth night in a row, shaking my ass as my g-string rode up my crack, my feet killing me. The cheap mascara they gave us itched like hell, but the stage light shining straight into my face was so blinding it didn’t matter. I had one more set and then I’d be on my back for the rest of the night, either fucking or sleeping.

Whatever used to be attractive about Stevie’s had faded over years of cigarette smoke, spilt drinks and the smell of piss that escaped from the bathroom. No matter how much bleach we used, it always stank. There were only five round tables below the stage, as well as several seats along the bar, all wood, all seen better days. They’d been worn down by the heavy arses of anyone who found themselves parked up with a shitty beer and a look of mild interest as one of us stripped and occasionally sang.

People came here to get pissed and look at some tits and, if we were lucky, one of them would have enough money to pay for a fuck. 

I pranced around on stage with a microphone, trying to sing ‘Feeling Good’, perfuming with every step. That was my thing. None of the other girls could do it, but it didn’t make a difference when half the guys out there were so drunk they probably couldn’t scent me.

But there was one guy, tucked away at the back, who looked like he didn’t belong. 

A sharp suit, relaxed pose, intense gaze, and he didn’t have a drink. He just watched. 

He might have seemed unassuming in the dim shadows of the pub, but I could feel his powerful alpha energy from all the way on the stage. Some of the more sober customers were shooting him looks. Because alphas like him didn’t come to places like this, not to drink, anyway.

I was always on stage for an hour. Stevie liked the young ones out at the start of the night, before the customers got too drunk to tell they were looking at a forty-year-old omega who was so skinny that her tits looked like fried eggs.

It was Friday night, payday, usually a good night for me. If I caught one of the customers’ eye, he’d pay Stevie to take me into one of the back rooms, and I could make an extra £50.

It meant I wouldn’t have to work another weekend, and I could actually afford some decent food. It had been instant noodles all week. 

I finally finished my set, and the posh guy hadn’t moved at all. 

I used to wish everyone a good night, but I quickly learned no one gave a fuck. Instead. I placed the microphone back in the stand and headed straight for the stairs at the back of the stage. 

One of the bouncers eyed me up as I left, and I flipped him a finger. He wasn't as bad as some as the others, all he did was look.

I made it halfway down the steps before one of the other girls pushed off the wall.

“What’s it like out there?” Clarity said, a hopeful look on her face. Her red sparkling leotard would be on the stage floor in the next ten minutes. Her jaw grit as she prepared herself for the show. 

She asked the same question every night, and every night I gave her the same reply. Except tonight. “Man in a suit, back left. Might be some good cash if you can score him.”

It was rough forcing ourselves out there every night, but we had to be grateful. And the door was always open to come and go. Stevie didn’t give a shit about who was dancing, just as long as someone was on stage.

We threw each other a nod before I weaved through the dark corridor to reach the dressing room.

It was just an old storage closet that Stevie had fitted out with mirrors and a clothes rack. It still had the one dull bulb above it, smelled of mould, and could barely fit all eleven of us, but we made it work.

A bunch of the other girls were already in there, and they lit up with smiles when they saw me. Stevie’s place might be a shithole, but we looked out for each other.

“What’s the scope?” Sandy asked, handing me a can of cheap beer. It was all we could afford.

“New guy,” I said, as I cracked it open. “I dunno if he’ll be around for long, but it looks like he’ll be worth it. Let’s see if Clarity can bag him first.”

The other girls started chattering, some of them primping in the mirror, others going back to their makeup. We were all types, most of us off the streets, most of us willing to put up with anything as long as we had somewhere safe to stay at night.

“He could be a billionaire!” Velma said.

“Or mafia!” Sandy laughed, as Velma shot her a bright grin.

“Maybe he’s a rich prince from Dubai!” Frankie said, setting off another round of laughter.

We always played this game when someone new came. It helped keep us going and made the idea of spreading our legs for them more bearable. 

There was still that little girl inside me that thought maybe I could find a real alpha. We always joked about it, but deep down, hidden where even I couldnt see it most days, was the hope that maybe there was a mate out there for me. Maybe there was someone I could call my own, who would love me unconditionally, and not just because I had pussy for sale.

Besides, if I could earn enough to eat properly, I didn't need an alpha. And there were times I’d do anything for the penne pollo they served at the Italian on the main street.

Five minutes later, I was pressing my ass against the makeup counter, draining the last of my beer and chatting noisily with the girls when the door burst open.

Johnny, one of Stevie’s runners, practically fell into the room, his eyes shining. Some of the girls screamed and quickly turned, covering themselves. He was only fourteen, but he knew how to time things.

His gaze landed straight on me, his broken front teeth showing through his wide grin.

“Already?” I said. I usually got at least ten minutes to rest my feet whenever a customer bought me for the night.

“Yeah!” He straightened as he took another peek at the girls. “It’s the posh one too.”

“Oh my god!” Sandy squealed, jumping up from her chair. “It’s happening!”

“We’ve got to get you ready!”

I laughed as Velma grabbed me, clearing a space in front of the mirror as they plonked me down.

“Red? Or white?” Frankie called from the end of the room, holding up two of our poshest dresses we only kept for the ‘richer’ customers.

“White, of course!” Velma shouted back and I grinned as Sandy leaned down to clean off the shitty make up that we wore on stage.

We needed the good stuff if I was going to score big tonight.

I smiled at myself in the mirror, excitement fluttering around the room.

Hopefully he wouldn’t be too put off by the bags under my eyes, or my off-white skin, cracked lips, thin hair. But we all looked like shit. It was why that blinding stage light was so helpful. None of us were healthy, but I was still hot as fuck. And a quick round of makeup would help bring that to life. And I had my big tits and wide ass, which was all the paying customers cared about, anyway. 

Either way, I was still good enough to work my hips, and that’s what mattered.

It was my time to shine.

—-------------

Johnny had taken me to one of the best rooms in the building. If I was right about this guy, he deserved everything we could offer him. Though, the best for Stevie’s was clean sheets and an actual lampshade. At least there was enough space to walk around the bed, a rug over the rough wooden floor, and a bunch of toys thrown into a box in the corner.

I was plumping my blonde bob in the large mirror on the wall when I heard footsteps climbing up the stairs to the room.

Two sets, and a strange tapping that I couldn’t figure out.

Stevie was chattering away, which I’d never heard him do. 

Even if Johnny hadn’t told me it was the rich alpha, I would have known from the powerful aura that seeped through the thin walls.

“This way, please.” Stevie said as they reached the landing. The door swung open and Stevie stepped back to let him inside.

The alpha stood in the doorway, filling the space. Even though he was at least a foot smaller than Stevie, he still dwarfed him. And not just because Stevie hunched over, his sweaty vest and blue jeans making him seem even skinnier, especially when he was fidgeting. We called him a rat for a reason.

My breath caught in the back of my throat as I met the eyes of the alpha.

Pure dominance radiated from him, sweeping over me, catching me. My heart froze, every sense in my body telling me to run as his lips curved into a smile, making my hair stand on end at the force of him.

He was dressed in black from head to toe. A fancy suit, a thick wool jacket, black tie, black shoes, black gloves, and a black bowler hat. His cane passed hands, tapping the point against the floor. Stevie flinched, backing away from him as I raised a brow.

All alphas and omegas had auras. It was part of our nature, like a ball of energy that surrounded us. A combination of good genes and training determined how powerful someone was. Alphas used the energy of their aura to suppress or dominate omegas and other alphas, depending on their strength. Whereas we could use ours to entice or calm alphas.

The alpha’s aura grew stronger as he watched me, cloying, suffocating to the point that Stevie choked, but I wasn’t showing him anything. 

Maybe my knees were shaking, but his gaze was fixed straight on my face.

Then my natural talent came into play. Because I was good, better than I let on. The girls knew I could perfume on command, but they didn’t know that, not only could I use my aura to make the alphas who bought me snap, but they couldn’t control me like they could with the other girls.

Which made the fact that I knew I could never escape this man if he chose to hunt me down even more electric.

Ideally, alphas and omegas blended their energy in a pack to create a perfect, balanced existence. But I’d never met an alpha who gave a shit about that.

Omegas with packs, normal omegas, didn’t have to deal with alphas trying to control or manipulate them.

The rich alpha’s presence shook around him like a mirage, smothering everything else. The best thing was, I could feel that he was only showing us a small fraction of his real strength. And the idea that he might release himself on me made my mouth water. Because most of the alphas who came to fuck me, the ones I was actually interested in, only had their brute strength going for them. They never felt like real alphas.

I’d never seen such a small alpha, either. I just made 5”2, and I swear the alpha was only had an inch on me. The hat threw me off.

“That will be all, thank you.” The alpha said, his voice washing over me like a warm breeze. 

“Enjoy.” Stevie sneered at me before he grabbed the door, locking me in with the alpha.