Galactic Odyssey

Playtime with Nora had taken a back seat since I had started the noble quest of improving the way people were getting whipped at Everton's.

Determined to show results as soon as possible, I worked long hours at the company's headquarters on deck forty-nine and soon I got my first small reward. George liked the action plan we had sent him - he reduced the number of whip lashes I got by ten, bringing the weekly number down to ninety. Things were slowly moving in the right direction.

The nights I still spent in my cell in the drunk tank. It was a great arrangement - they let me out whenever I asked and I had access to free, decent food and a shower. Unfortunately, at least in my life, good things never last. When they needed the space, they kicked me out, and for the first time ever, much to Nora's amusement, I was evicted from a jail cell.

Broke and homeless once again, I accepted her invitation and stayed in one of her guest rooms for a couple of days until she found me a new place - being friends with the boss's wife certainly had its perks.

I moved into a small suite close to Nora's sprawling quarters, which had a comfortable king-size bed, a swanky bathroom with a whirlpool, and - best of all - maid service. I didn't get to stay there for free, however. George made me pay rent, meaning I got an additional five whip lashes per week - a price that I would have happily paid for the whirlpool alone.

*

After another long weekend of poring over company numbers, I was lying face down on my new luxury bed, feeling sorry for myself, when the doorbell chimed.

"Go away," I groaned and put my head under the pillow.

Whoever it was, they were persistent - the bell chimed three more times. For fuck's sake, I thought, lifting my head with all the energy I had left.

"Alright, alright, come in!"

The door opened and Nora walked in, carrying a large cardboard box. She was barefoot and wore a cute summer dress - and not much else as far as I could tell.

"Gods almighty, how many did you take?" she asked when she saw my naked back.

I closed my eyes. "Fifty. It was a stupid idea."

"You don't say. I still have nightmares from the dozen I got on Emaris."

"I thought I'd do fifty in the morning and the rest in the evening and be done for the week. But I can't, it's impossible. I shit myself when I even see that fucking bot."

Nora sat down on the bed and gently stroked my hair.

"Why don't you do twenty per weekday? You can go four times a day and take five each, that's tedious, but a lot easier."

"Ten is the minimum per session," I said, but she had a point. Stretching it out was definitely a better strategy.

"Anyway, the reason why I'm here ..."

Nora opened the box and spread its contents on the bed. "I know how much you hate shopping, so I got you some clothes. You need something to wear that isn't a combat uniform or a cocktail dress," she said and gave me a kiss on my naked butt. "Come on, get that cute little tushy off the bed."

Still physically and emotionally drained from the whipping, I somehow found the energy to get up. I could tell how excited she was and didn't want to disappoint her.

"Nora, that's all new stuff, I can't accept that."

"Don't worry about it, Cass, I have unlimited credit in all of George's shops. Considering what he's putting you through, paying for this is the least he can do."

She had brought a wide selection of clothes for every occasion, ranging from T-shirts and tank tops to business attire, and several pairs of shoes. It was a tasteful selection - nothing too girly, and it fit my style.

"I know you're not a fan, but I brought you bras and some sexy panties. The clothes should fit, but I'm not sure about the shoes and the bras. I don't have my husband's laser vision for womens' clothes."

While she was bent over the bed, I lifted her skirt from behind, revealing her naked ass. She wasn't wearing panties and I could tell that the clothes weren't her only reason to come see me. The smell of female arousal in the air was hard to miss.

I reached between her legs and gently traced her labia with my fingers.

"You're an angel, Nora," I said, as she purred in delight. "Turn around, you deserve a proper thank you."

*

While I was grateful to Nora for buying me things, I wasn't comfortable feeling like a charity case, so I decided to pay Donnie Rann, George's chief of staff, a visit. When I entered his office, he got up from his chair to shake my hand and seemed happy to see me. For an old gangster he was a very cordial guy.

"What a nice surprise, Cassidy, good morning! I already talked to Nora yesterday, I'm afraid I don't have an update on your sister yet, my contacts are still chasing down leads. This might take a bit."

"Thank you for helping me with this, Mr. Rann, but that's not why I'm here."

"Please, call me Donnie," he said, giving me his trademark radiant smile. "What do you need?"

"I, err, I have relied on Nora's hospitality long enough. I want to earn my own money."

Rann grimaced and invited me to sit.

"George has left instructions, but I'm afraid you won't like them. He says you can eat at the ship's cantina at the cost of ten extra whip lashes per week and he's prepared to make a one-time payment if you accept any of the permanent ... adornments you've seen on his wife. Various amounts, up to five hundred credits apiece."

I gulped. George was hell-bent on making things hard for me and I still hadn't figured out what it was that he wanted.

"Obviously," he continued, "I don't recommend doing any of that. And I really think it's time to tell him no. Otherwise he'll keep pushing."

That was easier said than done. I knew George respected strength, but I figured that playing along while his organization was looking for my sister was the smarter choice. And as far as the mods were concerned, I really didn't want to mess with my boobs. The clit ring didn't sound too bad, I could still consider it for later, but something permanent for a one-time payment - that sounded like a bad deal to me.

"I'd rather have a normal job," I said. "Night shift, if possible, I'm busy with Everton's during the day."

"I see. What can you do?"

"I'm a pretty good pilot and I can cook."

"Flying is out of the question, I'm sorry," Donnie said and scratched his head. "But let me see what's on offer."

He typed something on his terminal.

"There's no opening in the galley or any of the restaurants right now. I can offer you a maintenance job - that's mostly cleaning and simple technical tasks. Safe conditions, no prior experience required."

"I'll take it."

"Wait, it's only two nights a week. You'll make forty credits, but the cantina will cost you fifty at least - that's the cheapest you can get food around here."

"I can skip a few meals, it's fine. What about prostitution, how does it work around here?"

Rann leaned back in his chair and gave me a pitiful look. I could tell that he didn't like that idea at all.

"We've got a few brothels on board where prostitution is legal, but we don't tolerate freelancing. It's a hundred lashes for a first offender."

Great, I thought, yet another regulated market. Normally, that wouldn't deter me, but on George's turf, it was better to play by the rules. Thanks to my unlimited Everton's customer card, I would get the lashes for free, but I had already been on the receiving end of that bot way too often.

"Is any of the brothels hiring?" I asked.

He looked at his terminal, scrolling through the job ads.

"Madame Kessler's on deck nine has one shift open. But don't go there, that's the subsidized one that provides a free service for all crew members. It's a disgusting rathole, no place for a nice young girl like you."

"It's fine. I worked the docks on Hades, I can handle it."

Whoring myself out for food to filthy dock workers had been one of the low points in my life, but fresh out of jail I didn't have much of af choice. Whatever happened on deck nine, it couldn't be worse than that.

Rann scratched his head. "It's twelve credits per shift. And you'll have to interview, Kessler's isn't under my purview."

Twelve lousy credits for an entire shift was an insult. On a good day, working as a freelancer, that's what I made in half an hour. And with these two jobs, I would earn fifty-two credits, which was nowhere near enough. Minus the food, I had two credits left per week for all other expenses that might come up. This wouldn't work if I wanted to get back on my feet.

I sighed. "Okay, all good. Sign me up for the maintenance job and I'll take the ten strokes for the cantina ticket."

*

What was referred to as deck nine was the smaller one of two shopping areas on the ship. It was basically a mall with numerous stores around a central promenade that spanned three decks. I looked around until I saw a neon sign of a stripper at the far side of the mall, hidden between a seedy bar and an arms dealer. There was no name on the sign, so I turned to an old woman who was sitting on a bench outside, drinking booze from an almost empty bottle.

"Hey," I said and pointed at the sign. "Is this Madame Kessler's?"

She didn't look at me, focusing on her booze instead. I had already turned around to go and ask someone else when she finally decided to talk to me.

"I'm Kessler," she said, slurring her speech. "What do you want?"

"Ah, good. I'm here for the night shift job. Mr. Rann sends me."

She squinted her eyes and tilted her head. Probably, she was already seeing double.

"Rann, that old bastard, I see. Do you have prior experience?"

"Yes," I said. "I'm hard-working, reliable, and very service-oriented."

That was a bit of a stretch, but my masterful pitch got me the interview - or whatever this was. After all, confidence was the key to success in any professional environment. At least that's what they told me in that young offenders class back home.

"Let's see what we're working with." She donned a glove that she pulled from her large, ugly handbag. I heard glass clink in the bag - most likely, the almost empty bottle wasn't the only booze she had.

"Strip."

"Here?" I asked. The mall was busy, there were people passing by, doing their shopping, and some others were standing outside the bar, drinking beer from oversized mugs.

"What is it? Are you shy?"

Whatever, I thought. In this line of business, you check your dignity at the door. Or in this case, ten steps outside.

I got rid of my clothes while she pulled a large lube dispenser from her bag. Obviously, this wasn't the first job interview she conducted on that bench.

She looked me over from head to toe, checked my teeth, lifted my boobs, and fingered my pussy. It reminded me of a strip-search in jail, but with a much larger audience. About three dozen people had assembled, whistling and making lewd comments as they watched the show.

"Bend over and spread," she ordered, after putting some lube on the glove. What followed was both predictable and unnecessary.

"That's prior experience, alright," she said, while working her hand up my rectum. "If it wasn't for Rann, I'd never give you twelve bucks. That thing is busted, I have no idea how you hold your shit."

My sphincter really wasn't in the best shape and I took her entire hand without trouble. Years of abuse had taken its toll; it was an occupational hazard that many girls in this business suffered from and nobody liked to talk about. Fortunately, I rarely had accidents and it wasn't as bad as she made it sound - a few hundred credits for surgery and I'd be tight like a virgin.

"Come on," I groaned as she pushed deeper. "Did you lose something in there or can we wrap this up already?"

*

Inside, after I had successfully passed the interview, I immediately understood why Donnie had warned me. The place was a run-down rathole, similar in style to a cheap slave brothel - minimally furnished and stinking of sweat and cum. The entire establishment consisted of a single room with a series of maybe twenty open booths at the far side of the wall, each with a bed and a chair and no other furniture.

Crewmen were standing in line, watching the action in front of them, where chained up girls and a couple of guys provided their service in plain sight of everyone. Stroking their dicks while they waited, the clients cheered their buddies on as they were putting the whores through their paces. The whole setup reminded me of my first steady job on Nevarra VII.

Oh well, I thought. I've done it before and it's just one shift per week.

Kessler led me to a free booth on the right side of the room that nobody had bothered to clean up. The plastic sheet on the bed was covered in all kinds of dubious stains - maybe it was better that I didn't know what the previous occupant had done here. The smell certainly wasn't inviting.

"Is that really necessary?" I asked, when she picked up a chain from the floor that was welded to the back wall. She had to steady herself, the booze was taking its toll on her balance.

"Shut up. I've had enough of you hussies quit on me mid-shift. I'm running a business here."

Not really thrilled, I let her lock the collar around my neck. Even though it was still early in the evening, the brothel was quite busy, with some girls doing double duty already, serving cocks at both ends. Chained up and with no bouncer or other kind of security around, I knew that this could get nasty real quick.

"What if I have to pee?" I asked.

"There's a piss bucket that's passed around, you have to wait until it's your turn. And don't you dare refuse service, Missy. Whatever they want, they get. Understood?"

I sighed. "Yes. I know the drill."

"Don't mess up," she said and pinched my nipple for good measure. "You're lucky the guys here aren't picky. If you squeeze your loose holes, maybe someone will give you a mercy fuck."

And off she staggered while my first client was already whipping his dick out. He was fat and filthy and I could smell his beer breath from two meters away.

*

At the end of my shift, I was a sticky, disgusting mess. Obviously, everybody wanted to try the new girl, so I quickly became the center of attention, working multiple dicks at the same time for hours without a break. I was kept busy fucking and sucking, getting tossed and slapped around like a rag doll.

A guy from security did show up eventually and prevented the worst abuse, but still, it had been an intense session. By the time the auto-lock disengaged and released me from the wall, I was exhausted and in desperate need of a hot bath.

There was still one cable tie around my left tit that was too tight to pull off, giving it a shade of purple, and the pain in my overused holes was unreal. If I hadn't stuffed a wad of paper tissues into my still gaping ass and pussy, I would have left a trail of cum from the brothel to my place.

While dragging myself home, I decided to postpone the request for additional shifts. Scrubbing toilets and fixing plumbing on the maintenance crew yesterday had been downright enjoyable in comparison.

*

"Gods, Cass, what happened to your face?" asked Nora when we met outside my room the next morning.

"Nothing serious. Work got a bit intense yesterday."

Nora winced as she examined my bruised face from both sides.

"Wait a second, I'll give you something to reduce the swelling. In a few minutes you'll be good as new."

She rushed into her quarters and returned with some ointment that she carefully put on my face. It had a cooling effect and I could feel the pain subside immediately.

"Maybe you should go back to using handcuffs until you have a proper transport rail in place. Nobody likes to be whipped, you know. Some people get aggressive when they're scared."

"It wasn't at Everton's," I said. "I was moonlighting on deck nine."

She looked at me sympathetically. "I get it, you want to be independent. But working for Kessler? That old bat is evil."

"Oh yeah. She's a nasty old drunk."

"Cass, seriously. Don't do this to yourself. You're my best friend, I'll give you food and I'll give you money. Whatever you need. And if you absolutely insist on whoring yourself out, let me be your only client. I will pay any rate."

"Thank you, but this is something I have to figure out myself. I will never get out from under George if you help me all the time."

"Better keep the meds then." She handed me the tube with the ointment. "Let me know when you come to your senses."

"The place isn't that bad, don't worry."

"Don't bullshit me, Cass. I worked there, too, you know."

"You did what?! You're shitting me."

I couldn't picture sweet, innocent Nora in that dump. It takes a certain kind of woman to put up with such treatment. No one should ever have to work under these conditions.

"It was a couple of years after George and I got married. He kept me on a very tight leash, financially speaking. I had absolutely no money of my own, I had to ask him for everything. So I decided to make a point and trust me, back then it was the scariest thing I had ever done. I needed four glasses of Trivarian whiskey until I was able to go."

"Wow," I said. "How long did you work there?"

She laughed. "Maybe half an hour. I served two guys until someone recognized me and called Donnie. Kessler sacked me instantly and banned me from the place. But I got what I wanted, now I have a bank account and unlimited credit in all shops."

*

Despite my recently acquired cantina ticket, I preferred having dinner with Nora. The food was so much better and of course, there was the after-dinner entertainment.

Due to a combination of boredom, an unlimited budget, and her teenage hormones, she had accumulated a comprehensive collection of porn and toys - many of which not even I had seen before in my life. I especially liked the two-player virtual reality games and I was eager to try out some new scenarios with her.

We were just getting ready for dessert when the doorbell chimed and Big George showed up.

Nora opened the door. "We scheduled sex for Thursday, didn't we?"

"Yes, we did, love. I'm sorry for showing up unannounced, I just wanted to check on you, you seemed a bit ... distant lately."

"I think you know the reason for that, George," said Nora and left him standing in the door. "Or should I say 'reasons?' The list keeps getting longer. But whatever, we're having dinner, you can grab a plate if you want."

From Nora's stories I knew that he could always eat, which was the original reason for his nickname. Unsurprisingly, he accepted the invitation.

"Oh, what a nice surprise," he said when he saw me. "How are you, Cassidy?"

"I'm fine, sir," I answered while he poured himself some wine.

"She's not fine," said Nora, shoveling food on his plate. "In case you don't remember, she gets these insane punishments and she works three jobs, one of them at Kessler's."

"Right. So how are you holding up, Cassidy?" he asked, like an innocent bystander who had nothing to do with it.

"It is a bit of a challenge, sir. But I can handle it."

"Listen, George," said Nora. "You get one more night per week with me if you reduce her strokes by half."

"That is very tempting, my love, I will think about it. But Cassidy and I have a deal, we shook on it. This is all part of the lesson that she needs to learn."

He leaned back in his chair and pondered for a while.

"Cassidy, why don't you go on a business trip for a few days? Inspect some of our shops and implement the first wave of changes you suggested? If that has an impact on revenue, we'll discuss your numbers."

"I will, thank you, sir."

"Good. In two weeks we arrive at Andara, that'll be a good opportunity. Arrange everything with Ahmad and come by my office before you leave."

Getting off this cruiser sounded like a good idea and it improved my mood immediately. I couldn't run while the search for my sister was still under way and maybe things would get better if I gave it some time. Nora and I had been on the run for almost five months, perhaps this was how long he wanted to see me suffer. At least he hadn't killed me and the way things developed, I didn't think I was in any immediate danger.