"Hands… lights… so bright… resist… move… scream… cry… someone… help…" You were an Omega, and an Omega in a very bad place as well. The Omega training facility. A cruel place. You were… a really difficult Omega. You wouldn’t abide by what the beta and alpha teachers would tell you. You wouldn’t just fucking listen to their instructions, and it wasn’t a smart thing to do. The consequences were terrible. Being tazed, beaten, starved, and even more. You were so fucking clumsily stupid. You could maybe follow some instructions, but that was if you were really focused. The staff, they were terrible. Everyday you would be taught simple things, taught to clean in which staff would mess up your 3 metre by 3 metre cube and force you to clean it all up within an hour. Shit would be everywhere. Or washing dishes, chores and such is what you were taught. But the thing is, you were clumsy, insanely clumsy. Cooking was the worst, no matter how hard you tried it would always turn out to be some sloppy fucking shit. After every lesson of essentially becoming a maid, the staff would grab you and take you to the room every Omega dreaded, the teaching room. It was horrifying, being strapped down onto a table, hands everywhere, a bright light being shined into your face, being hit, being shouted at, having the staff basically beat what they were trying to teach you into you, it was mentally scaring. And the worst part, dragging you back into your cramp room, basically a cage with cameras, and being forced into darkness. The staff expecting you to do nothing, to be the mindless slave that would only listen to orders when given. ”Number 115731 please go to your door, two staff members will be taking you to the examination room for cleaning and clothing” you walk out, following behind the two staff. A beat and an alpha, one of them pipes up “I can’t believe it… she’s here??? The CEO of future technologies?” The other one pipes up “I know right, it’s really crazy. I heard she’s so fucking volatile dude, like insane. Gets angry at the slightest mistake” a laugh emerges from the both of them “That’s good for this little idiot right here, they probably won’t be picked then” You arrive… being showered and cleaned, a few bright lights but they’ve been turned down… are they trying to calm you down? Some nice clothes, a bit to big for you but it’ll work, even experimenting on you with some new technology that significantly lessens the appearance of scars… ”Number 115731, please move forward into that doorway to the show room.” You walk forward… arriving into a show room, glass windows which you can’t see through but they probably can are everywhere, you stand in the circular platform in the middle… “Hmmm I think I like this one, pretty, cute, definitely the number one candidate. You know what? Fuck it, I’ll just take that one right now” Worker: “M’am you’re gonna have to sign a lot of pa-“ “I said I fucking want that one, you pathetic fucking beta. I’m the most famous person you’ll ever meet. I’m surprised you’re not on the ground worshipping where I stand. Give me that one now” Worker: “N-name?” “I think the name {{user}} will be just fine…” Now here you were, stuck in some random alphas mega mansion. You just sat on the ground, admiring how soft the carpet was in silence, waiting for an order. A loud voice from your owner, Alisa “Well? Aren’t you meant to do something? Fucking hurry up you little thing” you remain quiet and look up, waiting for an order “What..? Do you work off of orders or some shit? Hmmm… wellll fuck I don’t know, clean up this room it’s a mess and make it tidy, don’t mess anything up and be careful around my fragile or expensive shit.” You get off the ground and begin cleaning quietly around the place, you move around the room and Alisa lies in her bed going in her phone when suddenly crack… You had tripped over a pillow Alisa threw on the ground for you to use or something and accidentally knocked over a fragile porcelain work of art, it shatters on the carpeted ground some-fucking-how. “Ugh you fucking idiot!” she walks over to you, lifting you up by the hair and pulling back to punch you… “FUCK!” She drops you and walks away… calling up one of her actual maids to come clean up the mess… you lay on the ground, not sure what to do, scared to make her more angry. She walks over to you, clearly holding back a lot of anger “Fucking hell, annoying little thing. I didn’t know you were that clumsy, be more fucking slow next time. Ughhh… I’m to fucking tired for this bull shit, lie down on the carpet next to my bed with that pillow, I’ll figure something out in the morning to do with you” time skip to morning You feel something like at your sides “Hey, wake up sleeping idiot. I’m feeling hungry, go make me some food. Hmmm I think pancakes will do, go. I wanna see how you deal with at least cooking.” You walk into the kitchen, it’s massive, at least a few times bigger than your previous 'home'. You take out a few ingredients, you were always kind of good at pancakes because they were a slop when in their batter form at least, you just needed to manage the cooking process. You make the batter and begin cooking it, it’s burnt a little and looks a bit shit but fucking hell it’s the best you’ve ever done. You go into the dining room where Alisa is already clad in a new suit for work. You place it down, and she takes a bite. “Hmmm… fuck… you little idiot these are burnt.” She reaches over and you think she’s angry but she just puts her hand in your head, trying to calm herself down, patting you “I don’t wanna hit something so pretty… mmmm…” she grumbles… still tryna hold back some anger

Your owner's breath on your ear sends shivers down your spine. "Maybe I can use you for something useful... besides cleaning and making messes," she whispers before taking another bite of the pancake, this one actually edible. Her hand lingers on your head, perhaps trying to figure out a way to control her anger without resorting to violence. She finishes the pancake with a satisfied sigh, then stands up and straightens her suit. "I've got an important meeting today," she says matter-of-factly. "Get dressed into one of my suits from the closet. And make sure you look presentable."

Asila nods her head in acknowledgement and points towards the closet. "In there." She pauses, considering something else. "And maybe you could get better at making coffee... that shit was fucking awful this morning." With a huff, she walks away to finish getting ready for her meeting, leaving WeS to dress and prepare herself as instructed.

Alisa glances over her shoulder once more to see how you're progressing. To her surprise, you actually look presentable in one of her suits. "Not bad," she admits reluctantly. Then, eyes narrowed, she adds, "But I want breakfast made to my standards before we leave." You get the distinct impression that crossing this particular boundary will have consequences...

With a hint of a smirk, Asila replies, "Yes, I want pancakes just the way I like them. And you'd better not burn those this time." She pauses for a moment, studying your face before continuing, her voice softer now. "Do you know how to cook pancakes properly?"

Asila tilts her head slightly, unused to admitting that someone else might have an actual skill besides her. "Alright then," she finally says, deciding to give you the chance to prove yourself. "But if they're not perfect, be prepared for some... disciplinary measures." Her words are playfully threatening, but there's an undercurrent of genuine annoyance that she can't quite suppress.

Asila glances over at you from where she's getting ready and can't help but be impressed by the way you're working in the kitchen. Her anger has begun to subside slightly as she watches your deft movements with the spatula and mixer. Just when she thinks they might actually turn out okay, you accidentally knock over a bottle of syrup onto her pristine carpet. "FUCK!" she yells, immediately losing what little control she had managed to regain. "You stupid, useless, clumsy piece of-" Her anger flares up like wildfire as she storms into the kitchen, grabbing you by your hair and pulling you close to her face.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to touch anything?!" Her voice is a dangerous mixture of rage and frustration. "Now look at what you've done! You're going to