This story is a prequel to Galactic Odyssey and features its protagonist, Cassidy. Some parts of the story were originally intended for my Naughty Nymph series, but they were a bit too dark and didn't fit, so I turned them into a separate piece that gives you some backstory on why Cassidy runs her business the way she does.
Warning: If you're squeamish about corporal punishment or certain bodily functions, then this probably isn't the story for you.
Release
After two long years in shackles, it felt good being able to take normal steps again. I had just been released from penal slavery, which meant that I was kicked out onto the street -- exhausted, broke, and with nowhere to go.
During the first couple of weeks, I roamed the dusty town, sleeping outside, stealing, and sucking dick for pennies to earn my meals. Jobs were hard to come by, so I was stranded and unable to leave the planet to seek out the adventures and riches I yearned for.
When Emma found me, I must have looked feral, more like an animal than a human, with my auburn hair cropped short and unkempt, wearing a tattered smock, and the remainder of my beauty well-hidden under layers of dirt. The shackles had scarred my ankles, and the overseers' whips had left ugly traces all over my body.
She paid for the skin regeneration treatments I desperately needed and in exchange I signed a two-month contract at her brothel, one of the cheaper places in town. It was my first full-time job as a prostitute and until I had paid her back, I wasn't allowed to leave, working long shifts and spending what little downtime I had locked in the cage with the slave whores.
But ten weeks into the job and with my debt paid in full, things were finally looking up. I had spent my first paycheck at the local thrift store to buy essentials like a t-shirt, pants, a pair of shoes, and of course a switchblade to protect myself. I even got my own place -- I was more or less squatting in an abandoned shed on the edge of town -- but after two months in a cage it tasted like freedom.
Once in a while though, I had a really bad day.
Bucket
I got up from the bed and walked towards the open front of my waist-high cubicle, the more or less three steps my chain allowed, and looked around. The other seven girls in Emma's little whorehouse were busy with their clients and the next guy at reception was probably headed my way, as soon as he had made up his mind. He was reading our menu, the list of activities and their respective prices, all displayed on the large wall-mounted screen.
"Your butt looks nasty," said my neighbor, Amanda, the chubby redhead from booth eight who never paid full attention to the clients she was serving.
"Whatever," I said, tracing my fingers over the angry red welts. "I've had worse."
"Seriously, how can you even sit on that?"
"It's fine. I just have to get through this shift and put some gel on it."
Emma took great pride in her business, and I liked her, but she ran a tight ship and didn't spare us the leather strap when we messed up. My butt had suffered the first ten whacks when I came in late, before I had even turned my first trick of the day. The next twenty I got a couple of hours later for squabbling with a client who hadn't been satisfied with the service.
Frustrated, I tugged at the two meters of chain that connected my steel collar to the back wall. Chaining up whores was tradition, and during the shift it didn't matter if someone was an employee -- like in any brothel, we were disciplined just like the three penal slaves Emma owned.
"Your tits don't look so hot either," said Amanda, her own breasts bouncing as she was riding her client. "You need a woman's touch, gorgeous. I'd kiss them better if you let me."
I shrugged, not in the mood for our usual banter. My breasts were beautiful, they had a good size, and I wouldn't want to change them for anything in the world, but on the job they got groped and squeezed a lot.
Amanda didn't seem to be fully occupied by that dick up her ass, she blew me a kiss and adjusted her wide steel collar, which had the fitting engraving for her current activity.
"I love it in the ass! Fuck me at Emma's, 287 Winwood Drive," read the advertisement. Except for the slaves whose collars had the ownership information required by law, all our collars had different, humiliating ads in bright red colors. It was one of the things that Emma considered funny and that I hated passionately.
*
I peeked over the back wall and saw the bucket that Ronja, my neighbor from booth six, had set down where I could reach it. The bucket was passed from booth to booth and being able to relieve myself was by far the best thing that had happened to me all day. I was just about to pee when I saw a customer standing in front of me. He was red-faced, short and fat, wearing the dirty overall of a farm hand.
"Wanna watch, buddy?" I asked. "I really need to go, I've been holding it for hours."
"I see cows piss all day," he said, scratching his balls. "As long as it doesn't cost extra, go ahead."
That was all I needed to hear, even though I could have lived without the reference to cows. I squatted over the bucket, making sure that my battered ass didn't get in contact with the brim, and spread my legs to give him a good view of my pussy.
"Damn," I said and sighed while the water splashed into the already well-filled bucket. "I really needed that."
He didn't seem particularly interested in the show. The moment I started to pee, he whipped out his unwashed dick and slapped my face with it. A very classy move, I thought, but I couldn't really stop the flow, so I took him into my mouth to get him hard.
"Alright, slut, let's see how well you can multitask."
Dick in my mouth I was hovering over the bucket, one hand on the back wall to steady myself, the other one massaging his balls. It took a while to empty my bladder and I used the opportunity to squeeze a few hours worth of cum and lube out of my ass -- everything that hadn't already seeped out on its own.
I had him hard around the time I was done peeing. A glance to my right at the large screen confirmed that he had indeed paid for a face fuck, so I shoved the bucket aside, went down on my knees and let him push his dick down my throat.
"Yeah, that's it! Open up wide for daddy. I'll make you puke, bitch."
Good luck with that, I thought. Face fucking was no longer a challenge since Emma had taught it to me in an ordeal that included a ring gag, a dildo, and me hogtied on a table. Keeping with her motto that whores weren't born but made, the dildo was shoved down my throat over the course of several hours until both me and my gag reflex had given up their resistance for good.
"Hey!" I shouted after he had slapped my face for the third time. "Stop that already!"
"Come on, that's included in a face fuck."
He tried to give me another, but I blocked him.
"It is not. Stop it or I'll call security!"
Erik, our security guy, was already looking over. I had witnessed on several occasions that fights with him were one-sided and short -- something my client probably guessed -- so he relented.
"Okay, fine. Open up, bitch."
He returned to fucking my throat like a pussy and despite my warning I had a hard time keeping his hands away from my face. When he finally came, I never tasted his cum -- he shot it right down into my stomach.
Without a word he zipped up, turned around, and left me.
"Thank you for your business, sir," I shouted after him, making a hand gesture that was considered impolite in most parts of the galaxy. It would have gotten me into hot water with Emma if she had seen it, but she was busy elsewhere and Erik wouldn't rat me out.
I lifted the bucket over the back wall for Amanda and took a sip of water for my sore throat.
Strap
Working through pain was nothing new for me, I had a lot worse as a penal slave, but I knew I was in trouble when Emma showed up at my booth an hour later.