Editor's note: this story contains scenes of non-consensual or reluctant sex.
*
There was no spaceport on Jansen's Planet. There had been, but whatever calamity had befallen the world generations ago had also destroyed its port. It was one of so many planets out in the Barrens that had fallen on hard times.
So Dekker set down the Barnabas in a clearing in the forest, a remnant of last season's slash and burn farming. If you could call what they did on Jansen's "farming." It was more like a last minute scramble for something to eat. If it wasn't for traders like him the planet's hardscrabble inhabitants would have starved long ago.
The town made someone stay up all night to make sure customs were collected. For the dubious privilege of landing here Dekker had to pay. Luckily Jansen's World still accepted silver. He probably could have bought the whole planet for the contents of his ship's scrap recycler, but trading here did have its benefits.
Like the gorgeous woman that was sauntering up to the landing ramp to meet him. She was tall, redhead, with long hair that was done up to reveal a pretty but dirt smeared face. He couldn't see what kind of body she had underneath her long coat, but he didn't blame her. It got cold here at night.
"Half a silver to land," She said to him in a local accent. "I'm Loreli."
"Dekker. Pleased to meet you. Don't want to part with any silver just yet," He said as he stepped foot onto the planet. He was just under six feet tall, with a compact, hard body that had a few extra pounds that not even trading could strip from him. Stocky was the word. It went well with his ruggedly handsome face and the blue eyes that stared out from dark skin, a token of countless hours spent in the suns of many worlds. As was his muscular body that the girl pretended to be admiring. But how much was real and how much was a sales tactic? He decided not to find out.
"What else can I offer?"
"We'll take some food," Loreli replied. She opened her coat, revealing a flannel shirt that was a few sizes too small. Her breasts were practically bursting out to greet him. She shivered in the cold, or perhaps just to make her tits threaten to fly out of her shirt. "A few silvers will get you more than landing, Dekker. Why wait for the long walk into town?"
He squinted through the gloom and shook his head. Loreli was a big, sturdy farming gal but he was craving a bath and something to eat almost as much as he was craving a good hard fucking. His cock was already pressing up against the seam of his pants, and he hoped she didn't see it and call him out on it.
"No thanks," Dekker told her, not trying to offend her with his tone. He dug around in his satchel, came up with a standard rationpak. If cut into small pieces and cooked it could last a family a week. "For the landing."
"Bless your heart, sir," She said in a mock sweet voice. She accepted what was offered. Her coat was still open. With a practiced gesture, Loreli undid what few buttons held her breasts in place so they could spill forth from their flannel prison. They were surprisingly pale, topped with pale red areola and pert nipples. With two fingers, she expertly tweaked one of the strawberry protuberances and it immediately sprang to attention.
"One silver. Give a girl something better to eat." She stepped closer, and cupped a strong hand around the bulge between his legs. Despite her work hardened grip her touch was soft and teasing.
Dekker felt himself responding mightily to her hand as it began to knead his dick over his pants. He forced himself to gently push her hand away before he succumbed and would have to pay her anyway.
"Quite a welcome wagon here on Jansen's. But no." He said in what he hoped was a firm voice, but sounded more like a strangled croak to his ears.
"Too bad. I assume you know the way?"
"I do."
"Careful you don't spook a deer," She said, buttoning her shirt, now all business. "Damn things get frisky and fierce when it's cold."
They aren't the only ones, he thought and trekked out into the forest with a hard on that now was demanding satisfaction.
***********************
The inn was a sight for sore eyes. The final walk through the woods had done him in, and the sight of what pitifully passed for a town on this rock had been the clincher. Dekker needed a bath, a blowjob and a bed, in that order.
The ramshackle building might have once been a saloon, but it was long past calling itself anything but one of the few standing structures in town now. He stepped through the old fashioned swinging wooden doors.
"Dekker," The old man behind the bar called out. Despite the hour, he was open for business. Anything on Jansen's World was always open for business. "You got what I asked for?"
"As promised." With the last of his strength, the trader swung his satchel from his hip onto the bar. It made a sound of groaning wood and tinkling silver from within. Dekker withdrew a large metal box. "Half dozen power cells."
"Good. Actuators too?"
"Inside."
"Perfect, perfect." The old man eagerly opened the box and smiled, showing a handful of stubbornly clinging teeth. "Have yourself a drink to celebrate."
"I'll just take a room for the night." Dekker said. He was nearly dead on his feet from hauling his cargo through the cold woods.
"It's late. Take the lodging as a bonus for a well struck sale." The innkeeper said. He was counting out a few handful of silvers from a small hoard he kept under the bar. "Like someone for the night?"
"Damn right," Dekker told him.
"Man, woman, something in between?" The old man handed over a small cloth bag heavy with coins. He could afford to be generous with his employees. Nothing was cheaper than flesh on Jansen's World, and it was the sex trade that kept customers coming back.
"Whoever is closest." Dekker answered tiredly. He made his way upstairs after accepting his payment without another word. Pleasantries could wait until tomorrow.
