Chapter Title: An Emerald Prison

Author: Sam

Story: The Neutered Omega: 01 of 23

Series: The Omega Rights: part one

Rating: M: Slash M/M. Thorki. Violence, Sex, Language, Rape, Omegaverse

Summary: Loki has been a voluntary prisoner as long as he can remember, but someone crashes into his life and turns his entire reality around.

Spoiler: Not really.

Category: Action; Drama; Angst

Settings: AU Omegaverse: Asgard

Disclaimer: Thor was based on Norse mythology and written by Stan Lee, Larry Lieber, Jack Kirby, Ashley Edward miller, Jack Stentz, Don Payne, J. Michael Straczynzki, Mark Protosevich, and Nicole Perlman. The film was produced by: (executive producers) Louis D'Esposito, Alan Fine, Stan Lee, David Maisel, and Patricia Whitcher, (production executive) Michael Chong, (co-producers) Victoria Alonso and Craig Kyle, (producer) Kevin Feige, and (associate producer) David J. Grant. I am in no way connected with these people, and I do not claim ownership of these characters, lands, or names. I have borrowed them to share a story, and most likely not a story any of them would have written, had they had the time or no. I am making no money from this and it is just for my entertainment and that of free entertainment to a select group. Thank you.

Distribution: Please ask first?

Note: I'm a bit fascinated with Roman history, and with the strong caste system of an Alpha-Omega world I felt the addition of some of Rome's traditions and culture would not go amiss.

Feedback: Yes, please, especially constructive.

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Loki stood under the fall of warm water, one hand braced on the mosaic tiles, feet spread slightly apart, head bowed in deep thought. Locked away in his suite, the sounds of people and commerce blocked by the thick walls and decorative hangings, he could luxuriate in solitude in the large bathing room. Not many had the privilege of private facilities; most even shared sleeping quarters. Only the truly entitled had access to a personal chamber; Loki had three. His rank deserved no less.

A lithe, toned body, shoulder-length raven black curls, and eyes the color of deep winter ice, he had been called beautiful enough that the word no longer held meaning. Loki had always been attractive, almost delicate compared to other men. As a youth, his pretty features brought snickers from his male compatriots and jealous glares from females. Then with age and development the boys took notice, began surreptitiously watching him, started fantasizing about the lissome teen.

Beauty had always been Loki's most noticed feature so most people never wondered at his mind. He had a superior intellect - - and a wicked sense of self-justice. Nobody wronged him without feeling the bite of his vindictive temper, though few ever traced his crimes back to the sultry brunet; he was far too cunning to be caught.

With a sigh, Loki pushed back from the smooth tiles, reaching to turn off the flow of water. He felt clean again and, with the benefit of his private rooms, knew he could rest before his next appointment. Being beautiful and smart helped, but being good at what he did had moved Loki into a privileged status few freemen ever enjoyed - - and Loki was no freeman. He had been a slave since early childhood. Over the years he'd mastered his trade; it had helped as well that his father, Laufey, owned the establishment - - and him.

Loki gracefully stepped from the shower onto a plush ivory-colored rug. Scooping up a thick, soft towel, he began to remove the glistening drops of moisture from his smooth, pale skin. He walked through the ivory and teal accented bathing room and into the wider pearl and emerald colored living chamber. This room contained a pair of comfortably cushioned chairs beside an ornately carved table, a pile of over-stuffed pillows on a corner dais, and a large fireplace complete with lush fur pelt lying before it. The third room in the private suite contained a large four-posted bed, an armoire of beautiful clothing, and a glass-fronted curio stand containing an apparently random blend of oils and liquids in fine decanters and various expensive presents gifted over his career. One drawer held an array of jewelry in fitted velvet. The sleeping chamber had been decorated in deep beige and pale jade, carrying over the tasteful blends of greens and light creams. For a prison, Loki could do far worse.

There was no mistaking that the suite, while lavish and spacious, was indeed a prison. The door remained locked at all hours, opened by a pair of guards either to let clients in or out or to bring Loki meals and supplies. A large window opened onto a balcony towering ten stories over broken cliff side and roaring ocean. And no one answered when someone screamed. Those who worked in The House of Laufey were ever at the mercy of their customers.

Fortunately, Loki was beautiful enough and skilled enough to earn only the best selection of clientele: young Betas being introduced into the world and requiring the skills to please any Alpha who might be interested, Gamma slaves being instructed in pleasuring their rich masters, and the young minor Alphas who needed confidence and swagger before hitting their final stages of puberty. None of the clients were a threat to Loki's standing, his functions in the House, or his personal secret.

Father had instructed son very carefully in hiding his own nature. As Laufey had told him time out of mind: Omegas such as Loki were an abomination to be killed as they were discovered, weeded out to stop the filthy mutations from spreading and polluting the pure Aesir genepool. Curling his lip in a snarl, Loki dropped his towel to the carpet, reaching into the curio cabinet for a vial of silvery potion as his thoughts continued in their dark twist. Father was certain to have the inhibitor potion refilled faithfully so that his son might take it every day, quelling any natural sexual inclinations. By hiding his Omega son in a brothel, dosing him to suppress the mating instincts, he assured Loki's protection from discovery. But Laufey had gone further in hiding his only male child; he had Loki teaching novices in the art of lovemaking, bringing in couples for Loki to instruct, all while keeping him celibate and undetected. Who would ever look for an Omega to work in a high priced brothel?

Un-stoppering the crystal vial, Loki took a deep breath then brought the noxious potion to his lips, draining the entire contents of the small cordial. He dropped the crystal to the thick carpet where it rolled slightly until it came to rest beside the discarded towel, one small drop of silver medicine dripping into the plush beige weave. Shuddering, wiping the back of his left hand across his lips, Loki sank onto the bed and curled up on his side, awaiting the seizing which accompanied his daily dosing. He hated himself for being a reviled Omega, forcing him to hide or face public death. He hated society for their intense disgust against his nature. He hated the medication that put him through this continual pain and the emotional void which always followed the hormone suppressor. And he absolutely despised his father for ever telling him the reason Loki had been hidden away his entire life, giving him a glimpse of the freedom that lay outside the brothel, a freedom he could never have and thus would rather have never known existed.

The convulsions overtook him, driving all thoughts from Loki's keen mind, draining his energy and leaving only the pain and weakness behind. He never knew how long he remained unconscious, though the clock always assured him the blackouts usually lasted mere minutes. But the young man held no fear of the mindless sleep; it was the absolute lethargy which swamped him for up to an hour afterwards which terrified him. During his postictal state he felt trapped in his own body, unable to communicate his needs or desires, unable to defend himself. With a soft groan, Loki closed his eyes unhappily reminding himself that at least he had time to recover before his next appointment. Loki shuddered once more before blackness consumed him.

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To be continued in Chapter Two: Mercy outside the Arena