Galactic Whore

Chapter 1

Hellfire and Brimstone

"Your credentials are impressive, Ms. Melnin. I was a bit surprised to see your application. If I may ask, why would someone such as yourself, who could easily land a position at a top pleasure house, be seeking a position as a starship courtesan?"

I smiled at his question, one I'd been expecting. He was right, my past experience and the reports from my year of training at the Courtesan's Guild and the follow up year paying my indenture at the Vesta Guild house. "I enjoy travel, and want to see parts of the galaxy that I haven't been to before. Your ship doesn't travel a fixed route and specializes in trips to the outer worlds. It's perfect for my desires. It doesn't hurt that my sexual experiences will likely be broadened as well."

"I see. Well, you're the most qualified applicant." He stood and put his hand out. "Welcome to the Brimstone." We shook hands. "We break orbit tomorrow. Will you be able to get your belongings on board by then?"

"Yes," I nodded. "There's not much for me to move. Will you forward a copy of the itinerary to my pad?"

"Yes, of course."

At that we parted company. It had been a long, but productive, two years. The hardest part had been hiding how easy the training had been. Not only had I an extensive body of sexual encounters in my years as Brusjin's slave and partner, Crystal and Jewel's ability to modify my body enabled me to have sex with pretty much any species. During my indenturship, my earnings were so good that even the 80% taken out for various reasons left me with a tidy sum in my account.

My missions, however, saw very little progress. For two years, I'd made no progress in either locating Voratex (as I've come to think of Crystal's home planet ), nor in bringing the Hellfire Group to its knees. There's only so much you can do from a fixed location, even one as centrally placed as Vesta had been.

That isn't to say I haven't made any progress. Thanks to my shapeshifting ability, I haven't looked like the Susan Valenshenko the Hellfire Group wants dead since I escaped their last trap. Because of that the occasional member of the group has visited the guild house on Vesta. Crystal and Jewel's facility with data systems has resulted in a few surreptitious downloads from their pads while they enjoyed themselves with me.

I suppose I should introduce my two symbiotes. Crystal and Jewel are Voratex crystals. No, contrary to popular belief, they are not invading intelligences from beyond on a quest to control the Federation. They

can

be used to control people, so called voratex slaves. That's the result of the Hellfire Group perverting their life cycle. Crystals start as a single organism, a kind of sentient energy matrix living in a crystalline shell. They can split off a portion of themselves and enter into a symbiotic relationship with a host, organic creature. The bud, the part that implants, and the base, the part that stays behind, can communicate over any distance at no loss of time. The Hellfire people disrupt this by forcing a base to implant in another host, and that host can control the bud's host.

That's what happened to me, but instead of being unconscious when it happened, I was conscious. Because of that, Crystal, my original bud, was able to communicate with me when I was asleep, or in tremendous pain. This allowed us to kill the controlling host by setting up some kind of feedback, I don't understand the details, when I died (I was revived).

Jewel was an un-implanted bud being kept as a holy relic on the planet Ralint. I had recovered it from a thief while the thief was trying to steal another of the relics. Because it had been dying (long story), I joined with it to save its life. The two crystals formed a mating joining, and things haven't been the same since. My ability to shapeshift is only one of the changes I've experienced. My mind is faster too. Not so much an increase in intelligence, but an increase in how fast I can think through things. Of course, I

do

have the collective experience of two other sentient beings to draw on as well.

I returned to the Vesta Guild house to pack up and say my good byes. Like all employees of the house, I entered through the back. Finoli, the house mother, as we affectionately called her, was there to greet me.

"Susan, how did the interview go?" Bared fangs let on how happy the old Flepur matron was.

"I ship out tomorrow, Fin. I'm the official ship's courtesan for the Brimstone." We hugged, and I let my hands ruffle the fur at the base of her spine, drawing a sensual purr from her. She may be aged, but she's lost none of the sexuality that made her the in-demand whore she is.

"I'll be a little sorry to see you go. I still don't understand why you'd want a position on something like the Brimstone. You could get a job anywhere. Five years on Aphrodite and you'd be set for life." She wasn't wrong about that. Aphrodite Pleasure Unlimited bought the pristine world and turned it into the ultimate pleasure resort in the Federation. Courtesans who worked there could, if they were willing enough, earn millions. There were rumors that some of their professionals were willing to do snuff, counting on the most advanced medical technology to bring them back to life. Aphrodite was also a bought and paid for subsidiary of the Hellfire Group.

"I want to see the galaxy, Fin. I can't do that from the bedrooms of an Aphrodite mansion."

"You youngsters and your wanderlust. The rest of the galaxy has nothing new to see, just the different. And different is highly overrated. But enough of my whining. Do you have time for one last assignation?"

"Of course. What's the job?"

"It's right up your ally, dear. A Gredonian youth is seeking enlightenment."

I smiled. Really, a wide grin full of teeth. A Grendonian is a Grendalian who follows the Seeker faith. Seekers believe that enlightenment comes from experiencing all possible manner of physical sensation. Much of the galaxy sees their beliefs as an excuse for hedonism. I wasn't one of those scoffers, however. I'd seen some of what Grendonians seek out in terms of sensation. Not all of it was pleasant. They willingly subjected themselves to what others would think of as torture in the pursuit of their faith. I was honored to be a part of this youth's quest.

"I'll be happy to assist him, or is it her?"

"Him. Come with me, and I'll introduce you to him."

I've come to believe that the furlessness of humans is a minority thing in the galaxy. It seems like so many of the species I run into have full body coverings of fur, much ;like what I'm used to seeing on animals. A colleague from years back tried to explain that this was because Earth actually had a relatively mild climate compared to other homeworlds. Species that evolved in a cold, harsh world, wouldn't forgo the best natural hypothermia avoiding trait.

Grendalians are another of those furry species. Thek, as he was introduced, stood about one and a half meters tall. As was common with Seekers, he had a fair number of scars showing through that his fur wouldn't grow on; evidence of his past bits of enlightening. I could see the bulge of his cock beneath the folds of his kilt-like wrap. It didn't seem overly large, but he may not have been aroused right now. I couldn't see the opening of his marsupial pouch.

I walked over and embraced him, fondling his body as he returned the traditional Grendonian greeting. "Seeker," I started, after pulling back a bit. "I'm honored to have been selected to assist you in your seeking. What manner of sensation may I gift you with?" Every professional courtesan encounters a Seeker early in their careers; being religious doesn't make seekers stupid.

"Your willingness honors me, and all believers. I wish to experience the frustration of unrealized pleasure under the influence of hydrosel two."

I gave a small gasp. Hydrosel, and it's female version hydromel, were drugs that enhanced the physical pleasure of sex while delaying the culmination. One's entire body became an erogenous zone, as sensitive as pussy, tit and cock, while the ability to climax was prevented until a continuous hour of pleasure had passed. The delay could be extended indefinitely by simply interrupting the build up, restarting the count down, as it were. From personal experience, I knew it could be psychologically addicting, as the eventual climaxes were deliriously intense. Hydrosel 2 was a version of the drug designed to work on non-humans.

I tried to keep my concern out of my voice. "I see. You wish an hour of steadily increased passion followed by a unbelievable climax."

"No, I wish to experience several hours of intense arousal with no climax permitted. Please bind and use me for as long as you wish, reaching as many orgasm as you desire, but not permit me to reach one myself. I wish to experience the physical frustration of being denied a great need."

I almost asked if he was sure. I knew that would be incredibly insulting, and bit my tongue. I traced one of the scars along his arm. I wondered what had given him the sensations that resulted in such a scar. I reminded myself that while he might not know what he was asking for, he was sincere in asking. "Very well, I would be happy to torture you so. You have the drug?"

He nodded, pulling a small ampule from the folds of his wrap. I took it from him and pressed it against his arm. One short hiss later, the drug was in his system. I pulled his wrap from him, watching his body shudder as it experienced pleasure from the simple act of clothing rubbing against his skin. Like all the males of his species, his breasts were as full as my own, given that the males nursed the young. They were also sensitive, doubly so under the drug, and when I caressed them as I pushed him back against the bed, I was rewarded with his cock engorging.

Bondage is a common enough sexual fantasy that restraints were kept in all house rooms. Using as much physical contact as I could, I put his wrists and ankles in the electronic cuffs and locked them into position. I used a setting that would allow some movement, but no more than a few centimeters from where I had placed them. In other words, enough to let him add to his own torture, but not enough to let him end it.

I wasn't unaffected by his restrained body writhing on the bed. His cock was already fully erect and leaking fluid from the tip. His nipples were taut, and mine were matching his. My pussy was damp, and I was looking forward to its becoming a veritable swamp soon. I ran my hands through his fur, letting my nails lightly scratch at the skin below as the hairs themselves were brushed back against their grain. The normally tickling sensations became pleasant and he moaned in desire.

It didn't take very long before he was thrusting his hips up, moaning with need as he did so. Except for that initial contact with his breasts, I had avoided both them and his cock. A little understood function of hydrosel was that, while the entire body became an erogenous zone, it took stimulation of the original ones, cock and breasts in his case, to generate a climax. Thus, I could keep him aroused for far more than an hour at a time if I wished.

While it's not uncommon for a courtesan to experience orgasms on the job, so to speak, it wasn't normally a priority. I took full, advantage of his instructions, spinning around over him and lowering my pussy to his face. Like the dutiful bound subject he was, he licked at my folds as I allowed my hair to drape across his belly. He shuddered as he increased his own arousal with his probings into my slit with his prehensile tongue. As he probed deeper, and stroked my insides and outsides with increased passion, I dropped to his cock, taking the medium sized organ into my mouth.

Generous quantities of precum exuded from the sides of his cock, supposedly preparing the female cunt for penetration. I was glad of the subtle alterations in my taste buds that prevented me from experiencing the nearly universal horrid taste of Grendelian precum. As I swallowed the continually produced fluids, I rubbed my clit against the fur on his chin, setting off my first climax. I let the feelings wash through me, moaning on his cock as they did.

In the next 50 minutes, I was able to reach my own orgasm three more times, while keeping his cock in my mouth and rubbing my own breasts against his. I broke contact then to keep him from climaxing. I didn't stop caressing and stimulating him, I just started ignoring his penis and breasts. He was moaning and crying continuously, though he hadn't started begging like most people under the drug's effects do. Running my hands through his fur was quite enough to keep him on the edge, unable to crest. Now that I wasn't drinking it, his precum was pooling at his crotch and running down his hips to soak the sheets. And no, the irony of the male lying in the wet spot wasn't lost on me.

I didn't ignore my own desires either. I brought myself to several more climaxes over the next few hours, literally masturbating against various parts of his body, such as his feet or hands. I stopped half an hour before the drug would wear off, to allow him to experience the maintenance of his arousal caused by him simply writhing against the sheets. I didn't release him from the bonds until his arousal had faded completely and his was limp as a wet rag.

"That was..." He paused, looking for the right word. "...intense."

"I imagine so. I've experienced the effects of hydromel myself, so I can sympathize."

"I'll have to seek out the experience of repeated orgasms under the drug's effects."

"May you find all the experiences you seek," I replied with a bow.

He returned the bow and left through the side door. There he would be able to clean himself while I saw to the room and myself. I let the automated systems take care of the bed and luxuriated under the sonics in the shower, letting the ultra-high frequencies sooth my muscles and lift the accumulation of dried fluids and other debris from my body. I could feel the thrum of pleasure from my two partners as well. It seems they enjoy the vibrations as well, though for different reasons.

[BRIMSTONE ITINERARY DOWNLOAD RECEIVED]

In all these years, Crystal hasn't been able to master English syntax. Jewel was far more proficient, though less talkative; perhaps due to its prolonged exposure to organics when it was revered as a holy artifact. [Anything interesting]

[FOURTEEN WORLDS VISITED. TWELVE TO BE NEW EXPERIENCE]

[

It also seems to be a private charter of some kind

]

That was Jewel. Hearing from it always seemed to be like talking to an old friend. [Any idea who hired them for the trip?]

[NEGATIVE. ANONAMOUS RICH PAYMENT SECURED SHIP FOR MISSION]

[

There is a good chance it is some kind of exploration contract. Nine of the twelve new worlds are outside the federation. There is not even any data on them in Federation records

]

I perked up at that. For years, we had a map of the stars around the Voratex, gleamed from one of the artifacts on Ralint. But, there was no frame of reference. The starts might well be ones we see every night, but until we saw them from a location closer to Voratex, we couldn't link of the map with known charts. [Perhaps we'll be able to fit the map in.]

[UNKNOWN. MUST WAIT UNTIL VISUAL SIGHTING IS POSSIBLE]

Crystal also had a well deserved reputation for stating the obvious at times.

It only took a few minutes to pack up my few belongings and leave the room that had been home for me this last year. I gave Lin one last hug goodbye and took a slideway to the spaceport. Like most starships, the Brimstone was too large and non-aerodynamic to land on a planet. I'd managed to arrive just a few minutes before one of its shuttles was to lift off, and I hurried into a seat. I was glad I didn't have to go through the tedious security lines for public liners. It wasn't the scanners that made the lines tedious, but the number of people who tried to bring contraband onto the ships. I mean, why would you need a laser cutting touch in your accessible baggage anyway (don't laugh, I've been behind someone who tried it).

The flight to orbit was uneventful and mercifully brief. While most passenger liners, even those that carried cargo as well, were spacious and comfortable, the term shuttle and comfort seemed to be inherently incompatible. Most of my fellow passengers were established crew, evidenced by the way they walked across the threshold without even glancing up at the bosun.

"Susan Melnin, requesting permission to come aboard," I intoned, repeating words that had been part of sailing since wooden ships had plied water seas on a thousand worlds.

The Spidex fixed three of its swiveled, compound eyes on me. Another was taking in the data pad held in one of its ten limbs, all equally capable legs or arms, as needed. I quelled a slight shiver as the ghost of an old phobia of insects briefly surfaced. The soft hissing of its vocal chords was quickly drowned out by the translator box embedded in its chitin.

"Ah, the new Courtesan. Welcome aboard. Are you interspecies trained?" Even the dry translation carried a hint of anticipation in it.

"Yes, I am. If a being is capable of sex for pleasure, I can and will partake." I spread my arms in a passable imitation of opened mandibles.

His mandibles spread as well, and I could see both the penis and vaginal receptor twitch with excitement. There are very few insect species in the known galaxy, and most of them still rely on queen based breeding cycles. The Spidex seem to be unique in that they have never relied on a queen for producing offspring. Instead, every Spidex was both male and female, though they can't reproduce asexually.

"I hope there will be time for us to play mate," it replied, using the term they reserved for sex that was incapable of producing offspring.

With others behind me, I couldn't pursue the line of conversation any farther. It gave me my room assignment and I entered the ship. I took some time to enjoy the spacious and luxurious surroundings of the passenger areas; something I didn't see as much of when I was traveling with Brusjin. When you're in a hurry, you travel on freighters, not passenger ships.

First time space travelers are always surprised at how much space there is on a liner. The nature of Dolman drives is that mass doesn't matter, area does. The field, when activated, will expand to take in a certain amount of space, following the grids on the skin of the ship. The more power you have, the larger the field. Modern energy production systems, however, have made the capacity of the Dolman field virtually limitless. The limiting factor on starship size (and shape) was the needs of sublight propulsion systems and life support. The result was starships could be spacious in their cargo areas, but had to be reserved in how many living beings they supported. It didn't matter, much, how much space the beings took up, just how many there were. So, all passenger liners were luxuriant. If you have space to burn, you might as well use it.

My quarters were, for most people, surprisingly large. It was essentially two rooms in one. I not only would be living here on the ship, it's where I would work. The outer areas were the chambers for my sexual trysts with crew and passengers. Beyond those two rooms, were my actual living quarters. I set the security systems to recognize me as the legitimate owner of the room and put my belongings away.

Settled in, I took a tour of the ship, getting a feel for the layout of the ship and my fellow crew members. There was a wide variety of species on board, many of which I'd had experiences with, sexually, in the past. Training at the guild is quite extensive. While sex had been a tool ever since Brusjin had first purchased me on Branchet, I'd always enjoyed sex for its own sake. That hadn't changed much in the years since; except perhaps to increase. I was looking forward to servicing everyone on the trips we'd be taking.