“Oh no, girly—that’s not the kinda business I’m running here.” Fat Sam shook his head, the wattles on his grimy neck bulging.
“Oh, good.” Gisella felt an instant surge of relief, but it was short-lived.
“No, The Erogenous Zone ain’t a strip joint—it’s a brothel. A real high-class one too, I might add. Not like them dives down the road, The Pussy Palace and The Slick Dick.” He polished his blackened fingernails on the stained red vest and looked pleased with himself. “And now that you’re here, I’ll wager we’ll rise even higher. Yup, I reckon we can start getting real gentlemen for clients once I advertise and let ‘em know your tight convent pussy is for sale.”
“Oh my Goddess.” Gisella put a hand to her mouth to cover the scream that wanted to come out. Surely he wasn’t saying what she thought he was saying. Surely he didn’t want her to be a…a…but Gisella’s mind wouldn’t even think the word.
Fat Sam looked annoyed. “Don’t go gettin’ your pretty self all worked up, girly. You ain’t the first girl that had to sell a piece of ass to make her way in the galaxy. And I’ll tell you what, if you’re good at what you do I’ll let you stay on after the ten months are up and make a little spare change for yourself. You can make a real nice living spreadin’ your legs, providing you treat the customers right and give ‘em what they want.”
“But-but I can’t. I just can’t,” Gisella pleaded. “Please, I…I’ve never done anything like this before. I was on my way to take a vow of celibacy and become a priestess of the Goddess of Light. I can’t stay here instead and do…what you’re asking me to do.”
Fat Sam’s face hardened like dough left out overnight. “You can and you will, girly. Don’t forget, I own you now. If I say you’ll service twenty customers a day, you’ll do it. You’ll suck cock, fuck cock and take it up your pussy and ass—both at the same time if I
decide to rent you out for parties. And you’ll love every minute of it or at least pretend to—or else.”
Gisella recoiled from his crude words and the ugly images they raised in her mind. Goddess, he really expected her to do this—really expected her to spread her legs for any man who wanted her for money. What was she going to do? Gisella took a deep, shaky breath. To start with, she had to get away from his greedy gaze, from the tiny piggy eyes that were crawling over her body, no doubt thinking how much selling it would make him.
“I-I need to use your facilities, please,” she said in a faint voice.
Fat Sam frowned and shifted his considerable bulk behind his cheap synthi-wood desk. “Shitroom’s over there in the corner,” he said, nodding at a narrow door in the corner of his office. “And don’t think you’re gonna get away by climbing out the window, neither. There’s bars on it and the only way out is the way in.”
Without a word, Gisella rose from the hard plastic chair where she’d been sitting and stumbled on shaky legs into the tiny, cramped bathroom Fat Sam had indicated. Inside it was no bigger than a closet and a foul odor was drifting up from the cracked white sani-bowl. Gisella put down the lid and collapsed onto it, her face buried in her hands.
This is all my fault. All my fault. It’s a punishment from the Goddess and it’s all my fault! The thought ran in an endless loop through her mind and Gisella knew it was right. The situation she found herself in now was because of her wicked thoughts and sinful wishes. It was because she hadn’t really wanted to go to the temple and become a priestess and live a life of humility, poverty and celibacy. Secretly she had thought that the humility and poverty part might not be so bad, but the idea of never getting married, of never having a man between her thighs, even once in her life was terrible.
Gisella had always been a curious girl and in her later teens she had discovered a stack of porn vids in the far back of the attic where no one ever went. Over the course of the next few years she had watched and rewatched every single one. At first she had
been shocked and mildly disgusted by the strange actions she saw but in time she became intrigued and aroused. She would lie in the dark at night and think about what she had seen and imagine that she was doing the things she watched with a man she wanted, a man who roused her body and left her aching for his touch. He would be tall, dark and muscular, just like the man in her favorite vid, and he would strip her naked and do unspeakably delicious things to her body.
When her thoughts became too much to bear, Gisella would sometimes reach between her legs and touch herself in the most forbidden area. It was the place she was supposed to avoid unless she was washing herself, her mother had sternly instructed, and even then she was supposed to wash quickly and not linger. But even though she knew it was wrong, Gisella couldn’t help herself. She couldn’t help parting the swollen lips of her pussy and stroking the throbbing bud of her clit until sensations too wonderful and terrible to name washed over her making her stiffen in her narrow bed and bite her lower lip to keep from moaning aloud.
And now this…this was her punishment for such thoughts, such actions, Gisella was sure. The Goddess of Light saw all, saw everything she had done, even though it had been done in the dark of night, and now Gisella would have to pay. How many times had she secretly wished for a man between her thighs? For a thick cock to open her virgin cunt and fill her with hot cum? How many times had she imagined the feel, the scent, the taste of a man’s hard body? How often had she wondered what it would feel like to spread herself and be fucked? And now she was going to get her wish—only instead of one man she would be subjected to hundreds. Better she should kill herself now before she died of humiliation and pain.
As Gisella searched the cramped and filthy bathroom for an instrument of self-destruction, she heard a voice coming from the other side of the paper-thin wall. At first she thought it was Fat Sam, calling for her to come out and service her first customer, or perhaps her first twenty, but to her relief she soon perceived that the voice was lighter and more cultured than the grimy brothel owner’s.
“Please, my master is in desperate need. The time of his change grows near and a woman must be found to appease his lust.”
“No, I’m not sendin’ you any more of my girls.” Fat Sam’s voice was truculent. “I’ve done sent three already and not a one have I seen back—and it’s the same all over the district. I know pretty well that Sal down at the Pussy Palace won’t sell to you no more and I’m pretty sure none of the other houses are interested either. It ain’t worth the price even if you are offerin’ three hundred credits.”
“Then I shall double the price—six hundred credits for one of your ladies,” the high, cultured voice begged.
Gisella’s ears perked up at once. Six hundred credits—that was the exact sum Fat Sam had mentioned her uncle owning him—the same sum she had been sold for! Careful not to make a noise, she opened the narrow door a crack and peered out cautiously.
A man in dark blue livery trimmed in red was pacing the dirty carpet in front of Fat Sam’s cluttered desk. He looked like a high-class servant of some kind and when he turned toward her, Gisella caught a glimpse of a red and black badge on the breast of his coat. It was a coat of arms of some kind, she was sure, though not like anything she had ever seen on Beta Six.
“Why does the girl you get have to be from here, anyway?” Fat Sam growled, obviously ready for his visitor to be gone. “There’s plenty of whorehouses around the galaxy—hell, plenty on Rigel Nine where you came from. You don’t have to keep comin’ back to Beta Six to the Red Star district to get a girl to satisfy your master, whoever the hell he is.”
“But I must!” The man gestured with agitation. “It is part of the prophesy. Only a girl from two red stars aligned on the sixth planet from the Beta Sun can hope to help my master.”
Two red stars aligned? Gisella bit her lip, thinking hard. The Beta Sun itself was a red giant star and since this was the Red Star district, she guessed it made sense. But why
was the man in blue livery so desperate to bring a girl to his master that he woul
d beg the likes of Fat Sam for one of his whores?
“I don’t know what you’re babblin’ on about and I don’t wanna know,” the brothel owner growled. “All I know is I ain’t got nothin’ for you.”
“Oh yes he does!” Barely knowing what she was doing, Gisella found herself emerging from the tiny, dirty bathroom and striding up to the servant in blue livery. Her mind had been working rapidly as she watched the conversation and though math had never been her favorite subject in school, the arithmetic was obvious. If she was doomed to a life of forced submission, at least until she turned twenty-three, then servicing one man, no matter who he was, was infinitely preferable to servicing hundreds.
“Ah, how lovely.” The servant smiled warmly at her and turned to Fat Sam. “Who is this charming creature? She is truly is a cut above your usual, ah, staff.”
Fat Sam’s doughy face took on a petulant frown. “That there’s my latest acquisition, friend, and she ain’t for sale. I’m gonna make a ton of credit off her in the next ten months so I ain’t sendin’ her with the likes of you.”
“But six hundred credits—that was the price my uncle owed you,” Gisella pleaded. “And you said he hasn’t paid you in months so that’s an outstanding debt. Wouldn’t it be better to have all that money in your hands now, at one time, instead of waiting for me to…to earn it back?” She could barely force the words out but she knew this was her only chance for escape. She had to take it.
Fat Sam scowled. “I aim to make a lot more than six hundred credits sellin’ that virgin pussy of yours, girly,” he growled. “So don’t try sweet-talkin’ your way out of the deal. I own you and I’m gonna get my money’s worth.”
“Twelve hundred credits.” The servant’s voice was low and earnest. “Surely you cannot pass up such a sum, sir. It is an unheard of price for a single night with a lady of the night. What say you?”
Only a single night? Gisella’s mind reeled at the thought. So she could be free of this terrible obligation for one night’s service? Of course the convent would never take her after her virginity was gone but she was certain she could find some way to make her way in the galaxy once she was free. She looked at the servant in blue livery with gratitude and promised herself that no matter what his master looked like, she would do her best to serve him. But Fat Sam’s next words shattered her happiness.
“Yeah, a single night they never come back from,” he sneered. “But fine, you want her? You can have her. Twelve hundred it is and no take-backs.”
“Indeed not. I do believe this maiden is exactly what my master requires so the price is well worth it.” The servant smiled at her again but this time Gisella wasn’t so quick to return his warmth. She suddenly wondered what had happened to all the other girls who had spent the night with his mysterious master.
And what was to become of her?
* * * * *
At last she made it to the spaceport, considerably later and in much different circumstances than she would have believed, but Gisella was grateful nonetheless to see the tall white launch towers rising over her head.
“This way, my lady,” the servant said deferentially. He treated her nicely, as though she were a delicate vase that might break, a valuable object that had to be protected. Gisella liked that—it was how she was used to being treated. To be sure, after watching the vids she had often dreamed of rougher treatment, of a man who would take her regardless of what she said or did. But having just escaped the clutches of Fat Sam, she wasn’t inclined to be ungrateful for the servant’s good manners.
“Thank you,” she said, following him onto the moving walkway. “I want you to know that I am more than eager to be of service to your master. I hope he’ll find me acceptable to meet his…his needs.”
The servant, who had pleasantly bland features and dark brown eyes, smiled at her a trifle sadly, Gisella thought. “I hope that as well, my lady. It is my fondest wish,” he said. “Ah—but here we are.”
The rocket he led her onto had the same colors as his livery—dark blue with red trim. The blast couches inside were plush and comfortable and Gisella gratefully sank into the one he indicated.
“Let me just inform the pilot and we’ll be on our way.” The servant touched his cap and nodded.
“I can’t wait.” Gisella tried not to yawn but the events of the day so far had been exhausting. Now that she found herself someplace warm and safe with no fat, evil man demanding she service his customers sexually, she just wanted to relax. Of course who knew what awaited her on Rigel Nine? But she was determined not to think about that.
“You’ll be in hyber-sleep before you know it, my lady,” the servant said, correctly interpreting her stifled yawn. “The better to be fresh and ready for your meeting with my master.”
“Indeed,” Gisella murmured as another yawn escaped her. She heard the servant go forward followed by the murmur of male voices as he talked to the pilot and thought she ought to try to stay awake during liftoff. But despite her best intentions, her eyelids drooped with exhaustion and even before the rocket left orbit, she was already deep in sleep.
She dreamed of the dark-haired man she’d seen in the vids. The man who was almost but not quite the man of her dreams. In the vids, the man, who was tall and muscular, had taken a girl with hair the color of Gisella’s and tied her to the bed. But as she dreamed, it was Gisella herself who was so bound…
* * * * *
“Please,” she murmured as the man leaned over to tighten the ropes at her wrists. “Please, I can’t…I’ve never done this before.”
“Never done what?” He smiled at her, his white teeth gleaming in his dark face. “Never been tied up or never been fucked, my lady?”
“Neither,” Gisella gasped. Looking down, she realized she was completely naked, her ripe, pink nipples on display and the plump lips of her cunt exposed. To her shock she saw that the soft mound of blonde curls that had decorated her pussy since puberty had been shaven away.
“So you’re a virgin?” He whispered the question in her ear as he cupped her breasts in his palms, as though weighing them, and thumbed the nipples gently.
“I am,” Gisella confessed, squirming to try to get away from the intensely pleasurable sensations his hands were causing in her body.
“But you don’t want to be, do you? You dream of a man touching you…taking you.” He looked at her knowledgeably, pinching her tight pink buds until she moaned with the sharp shocks of pleasure it sent to her slippery sex.
“I-I do,” Gisella whispered, sensing that it was useless to lie. He knew her secrets somehow. Knew what she really desired.
“But your desires are not those of a shy, uncertain maiden for all your virginity. You want to do everything,” the man accused. “You want to feel a tongue inside your pussy as well as a cock.” He sat back for a moment and stroked his own thick shaft upon which droplets of pre-cum beaded like tiny pearls. “And you want to suck cock too. You want to be taken on your hands and knees, forced into submission, helpless to run or hide when he comes for you, helpless to close your legs to his assault. Helpless to do anything but spread your thighs and submit to his cock inside your cunt, to give yourself up to him entirely when he fucks you.”
His words sent a deep shiver of need through Gisella’s entire naked body. “Yes.” She felt shame flood her at the admission but she couldn’t help herself—everything he said of her was true.
“A virgin with the soul of a whore.” The man nodded as though it confirmed something he’d long suspected.
“I-I do not know what you mean,” she protested in a voice that trembled with desire.
“You will. And don’t worry.” He ran his large, warm hands down her naked, shivering body slowly, a light gleaming in his dark eyes. “You won’t be a virgin for long. Not where you’re going.”
“Are you…” Gisella looked up at him fearfully. “Are you going to take me? Fuck me?” she asked, forcing herself to say the word.
“No.” He shook his
head even as he cupped her naked pussy, stroking her swollen, slippery folds with one gentle finger. “I’m only here as a messenger, my lady. To tell you what you may expect.” He suddenly thrust two thick digits into her slick cunt and Gisella arched off the bed, moaning in pain and pleasure at the feeling of finally having a man touch her in the way she had wished for so long…
Chapter Two
The Prisoner
“Hurry, my lady. The master awaits you and there is not much time for preparation.”
Gisella awoke to see the servant who had purchased her from Fat Sam staring down at her anxiously. She seemed to be lying on something soft and comfortable but when she looked around her, she realized it wasn’t the blast couch she had fallen asleep on.
“Where am I?” she asked, sitting up slowly and putting a hand to her head. She felt slightly dizzy and her new surroundings danced around her in a giddy circle at first. When at last things around her snapped into focus, she saw that she was in an elaborately appointed bedchamber on a soft, thick mattress. There was a dark green canopy overhead worked with golden thread that matched the bedspread she was sitting on. Richly colored carpets were strewn about the marble floor and through a small golden door to her right she saw a puff of steam rising from a golden tub.
“You are in the royal palace of Rigel Nine,” the servant told her. “When the ship landed you were still so deeply asleep that I found it impossible to wake you. So I gently transported you here so as not to disturb your slumber. But now it is time for you to awaken and prepare to meet my master.”
“Oh yes, your master. I remember,” Gisella murmured. Vaguely she remembered an unsettling dream—something about being tied naked to a bed? But the dream was melting away to nothing even as the servant urged her to her feet and led her to another servant, this one a woman, who he promised would take care of her.
“A hot bath will be just what you need,” said the matronly servant who had taken charge of her. “We haven’t much time but we must have you looking your best for the