Intergalactic Courtesan Ch. 09

Desirée stepped out of the sonic shower, fluffing her sandy blonde hair. She stretched her naked body, trying to relax muscles still aching from early morning calisthenics. In that regard, being a courtesan was hard work; she had to be in excellent physical shape, so she'd be as attractive as possible for her guests.

She padded barefoot over to her locker, and opened it with a thumbprint against the door scanner. The locker slid open and she removed her hairbrush, trying to bring some order to her curls. The locker room was empty: other courtesans had to rush off to entertain their guests, but Desirée's schedule was relatively empty.

She was of two minds about that. On the one hand, she appreciated some time to relax but she still remembered the staggering amount of money she owed the Guild for her tuition. It was a debt that weighed on her mind a lot, a seemingly insurmountable amount that never seemed to get any smaller, no matter how hard she worked.

She shrugged, trying to get herself out of her funk. She still had 4 and-a-half years to go, and Veronica Franco told her that one or two guests were already asking for her by name. She grabbed her red thong from inside her locker, sliding it up her long, smooth legs. Then she slipped on her dress, in the standard Guild colours of red and gold. She then stepped into her matching pumps, and eyed herself in the full-length mirror at the far end of the room. Her body was taut and rounded in all the right places. Her nipples were hard, showing through the fabric of her dress. Even though she was a few months shy of her 22nd birthday, her face still had the softness of a teenager. She had pretty much lost hope that her plump cheeks -- the bane of her existence as a child -- were ever going away.

Just as she was about to start applying makeup, a green light flashed in the upper corner of her right eye, signaling an incoming call on her UTD. The number flashed on her display: it was Veronica Franco. Desirée mentally accepted the call, and a holo image of the curly-haired brunette flashed in front of her corneas.

"Good morning, Ma'am," Desirée told her boss. "How many I help you?"

"Good morning, darling," the older woman smiled. "When can you be at my office?"

Desirée mentally added up the time she needed to get ready. "I can be there in ten minutes, Ma'am. I still need to put on makeup."

Veronica shook her head. "Save it. I need you here as soon as possible. Don't worry about makeup: there won't be any guests present."

"All right." She blinked in surprise. Courtesans were expected to look presentable at all times. "Is seven minutes acceptable?"

"Make it five if you can, dear. I'll see you then." The holo image disappeared when Veronica ended the call.

Desirée grabbed her kit and slammed shut the locker door. She quickly ran out of the locker room, carrying her makeup bag with her.

***

Desirée was surprised to see Kalyani waiting in Veronica Franco's office. The young Dalit stood up with a cry of welcome, holding her arms out for a hug.

"It's good to see you again!" Desirée said warmly as the two friends embraced. Other than Veronica, Kalyani was the only other human female in the Guild of Courtesans. She had been invited to join the Guild after being sentenced to death for a crime she did not commit.

"You too!" Kalyani replied. "How have you been doing?" They sat in their respective smart chairs, the white round balls automatically adjusting to conform to their body shapes.

"You know," Desirée shrugged. "Guild life has its ups and downs --"

"And its ins and outs!" the two friends chorused together, giggling at their shared joke.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, girls," Veronica Franco bustled in the room, seating herself behind her desk. "It's been a hectic day and it's only going to get worse."

"Why have you asked us here, Ma'am?" Desirée leaned forward, crossing her long, slender legs.

"This holo should explain everything." Veronica punched several buttons on her desk computer. An image of a mousy-looking alien, wearing a long white gown, appeared above the projector.

"Greetings, Guild Administrator Veronica Franco," the alien spoke in a high, reedy voice. It had what looked like a crown of laurels draped around its head. "I represent the Throzaahli Collective. It has come to our attention that your Guild facility has acquired the services of a pair of females of the dominant species from what is commonly known as the Sol System.

"With your permission, we would like the opportunity to conduct a series of scientific experiments on your two human females. These tests will be highly invasive but we promise that we will not permanently injure your courtesans in any way. Naturally, we will have no difficulties complying with your standard rates for their services.

"Please do not hesitate to contact me should you require any further information." The alien fell silent and, two seconds later, the holo projection ended.

Veronica leaned forward, toying with a statue of Aphrodite on her desk. "The Confederation only initiated contact with the Throzaahli Collective within the last six months," she began. "The denizens of that system are a space-faring race, but they haven't yet established the necessary technology to develop an interstellar drive. Ordinarily, that would preclude them from being eligible for Confederation membership, but the Diplomatic Corps wants to make an exception in this case."

She paused for several seconds. "Several planets in the system possess abundant amounts of neutrinium. I don't need to tell you how important this discovery is."

Desirée and Kalyani nodded, speechless. Refined neutrinium was the optimal power source for Confederation shipping. It was highly efficient, and lasted virtually forever, but was extremely rare and expensive. Given that the Throzaahli System possessed such a bounty of the mineral, it was no surprise that the Confederation wanted closer ties with the Collective. The cost of interstellar travel could be halved at a stroke.

"Given the current political situation, the Central Government wants the Throzaahli to join the Confederation under equitable terms," Veronica continued. "However, the major issue is finding out just what the Collective wants from us.

"Unlike many space-faring races, they have neither interest in interstellar travel nor contact with other races. Plus, they're indifferent to any other inducements we've offered. The Corps has had little or no luck in establishing their motivation or understanding their psychology. We even have grave doubts that the creature in this holo," she restart, then paused, the message so the mousy alien stood silently above her desk, "even represents the dominant species in the Collective."

The Guild administrator leaned across her desk. "I hope you two appreciate how important this request is. This is the first indication we've ever received that the Throzaahli are interested in anything the Confederation has to offer. As Guild courtesans, you are technically auxiliary members of the Diplomatic Corps and as such, answer to the Central Government.

"We cannot order you to comply with the Throzaahli's request, but the Government has asked, in the strongest possible terms, that you accede."

Desirée looked over at Kalyani. Her friend's green eyes were troubled. "Ma'am, is there any reason why we should refuse this request?"

Veronica sighed. "I'm afraid there's no easy answer to that question, Desirée. All we have are the Throzaahli's assurances that you will not be permanently injured. We requested further information and all we received was a questionnaire that you are both to fill out prior to your meeting with the Throzaahli. We were asked not to reveal it to you until you have agreed to this; I've looked at it and so has the Diplomatic Corps. Some of the questions appear a little outré, but we haven't noticed anything objectionable. We also have no idea what the Throzaahli might wish from you.

"I wish I weren't sending you two into such a gray zone, but no one ever said life was fair," she continued. "All I can assure you is that we will try and have the experiments happen in a safe location, and a squad of Marines ready should anything go wrong. We will of course be monitoring you through your UTD's. That is unfortunately the best we can do."

Desirée sat for a moment, considering her options. On the one hand, she would be offering herself up as a laboratory rat for an unknown alien race that would perform who-knows-what experiments on her. Despite the Throzaahli's assurances, there was still a fair amount of risk in taking this offer.

On the other hand, Desirée had contemplated a career in the Diplomatic Corps once she had achieved sufficient seniority as a courtesan. Assisting the Corps with the Throzaahli would look good on her resume should she apply for a transfer in the future. It would also be a drop in the bucket against that massive debt she still owed the Guild.

She looked over at Veronica and nodded her head. "I'll do it."

After a few seconds, she heard Kalyani's soft voice: "So shall I."

Veronica beamed. "Thank you, my dears. Your help in this matter is most appreciated. I'll transfer the questionnaires to your UTD's and let the Corps know that you've agreed."

***

Whenever she could spare the time, Desirée filled out the questionnaire she'd been sent. There were about sixty pages in total, ranging from the curious ("What was your favourite memory?") to the downright bizarre ("Detail the complete chemical composition of your feces"). She did spend a fun hour thinking about her answer to one question ("Describe your ideal mating partner") but, despite several conferences with Veronica and Gruustok, the Fenari diplomat acting as liaison between the Guild and the Throzaahli, she still had no idea what the aliens wanted from her.

***

The female Mkoltos moaned lustfully, splaying its 8-legged body on the floor mat. Desirée lay behind the gigantic purple-furred creature, her head, right shoulder and arm buried in her guest's pussy, left arm up to her elbow in its anus. Clear precum drooled on Desirée's naked breasts and belly, occasionally splashing on the tube running from her head to the breathing apparatus about twenty feet away, where the Mkoltos' orgasmic thrashings wouldn't damage it.

Desirée's bare feet planted on the floor mat, pushing herself farther into her guest's snatch. The Mkoltos whimpered, its vicious-looking mandibles opening and shutting from the intense sensation.

Inside its vagina, Desirée licked and sucked on one of its three two-inch long clits, while her right hand massaged its walls. She wore a pair of goggles (her guest's precum was extremely salty) and a breathing mask covered her nose. Her face and body were drenched in pussy fluids; she had been buried in her guest's snatch for over an hour. The tight walls pulsed against her head and shoulder with increasing frequency, a sign that orgasm was imminent. She flexed her left hand, where it was fisting the Mkoltos' anus, and its pussy squeezed in response. She hoped the Mkoltos would cum soon: she had already been forced to stop and relubricate her left arm twice, and if it took much longer, she would have to do it again. She could feel the fatigue poisons building in her arms and lips, her head cramped from the awkward position.

She was also getting slightly frustrated. Unlike many of her guests, the Mkoltos was showing no sign of wanting to return the favour. While Desirée knew being a courtesan meant putting another's pleasure over her own, she wished this female would be a little less selfish.

The walls squeezed hard, nearly making Desirée scream with pain. The massive body surrounding her convulsed and a fresh wave of cum gushed over her. She allowed the flood to wash her out of her guest's pussy, gasping for air as juices flowed down her body, staining her red thong. She pulled the breathing tube from her nostrils and brushed back her hair, the viscous fluid slicking her long hair down her back.

"Is there anything else you would like, Ma'am?" she asked, standing up. Her only answer was a snore; the Mkoltos was in post-orgasmic dreamland. Desirée sighed. Her work here was done.

She padded over to the nearest wall, pressing a button that allowed the sink and a mirror to slide into view. She washed her hands up past the elbows before removing the goggles and washing her face as well. Alien cum still gleamed on her erect nipples and dribbled down her taut belly. She briefly considered a sonic shower, but didn't wish to risk waking her guest. She settled for taking a washcloth and running it over her naked body, getting the worst of her guest's fluids off before slipping on her dress, holding her shoes. Even still, she could still feel the clear, salty cum drying on her skin; she would have to shower and change before entertaining another guest.

She quickly consulted her UTD, her daily schedule appearing as a holo in front of her corneas: no further appointments for the next three hours. That would give her plenty of time to get back to her room, shower and perhaps some self-pleasuring. She was feeling short-tempered from the lack of sexual gratification; her pussy was wet and the lips engorged, rubbing against the soft fabric of her thong.

She paused long enough to gently clean the fluids from her guest, and drape a blanket over the sleeping alien. The Mkoltos slumbered on. Desirée dimmed the lights, the door irising open behind her.

Once outside, she closed the door, allowing a two-hour timer before it could be unlocked again from outside. She then slipped on her shoes before walking down the hall towards the courtesan dormitories.

Once in the dorm's upper level, she noticed a slender, gray-skinned Draco walking towards her, the black-haired alien gliding along the hallway with vampiric grace. She wore a long velvet dress in the Guild's colours of red and gold.

"Is that a new look for you, Desirée?" Cyraena smiled, her prominent canines giving her voice a noticeable lisp. "You might want to clear it with Signora Franco first."

Desirée gave the other courtesan a rueful smile. "Just finished entertaining a Mkoltos."

Cyraena winced. "Ouch. Male or female?"

"Female."

"Double-ouch. You have my sympathies." As one of the senior courtesans at the Galos IV Guildhouse, Cyraena could pick and choose her guests. However, she hadn't forgotten what it was like to entertain anyone -- or anything -- that could afford the standard Guild rate. It was one of the many reasons why Desirée was finding the normally aloof Draco was slowly becoming a friend.

"Well, at least I have some time off, so I can shower and change," the human girl replied. "I'm gonna need it."

"I found Fyschaelt moisturizer to be the best at getting Mkoltos vaginal fluid out of your skin and hair," Cyraena counseled. She towered over Desirée's 5'9" frame. "And don't be afraid to use a lot of it."

Desirée tried not to wince. Fyschaelt moisturizer was extremely expensive, and her finances were badly stretched already.

"I know it's a lot," the Draco said sympathetically, "but there's really no other alternative. I have some extra if you need it."

"That would be wonderful," Desirée said gratefully.

"Let's go then." Cyraena took Desirée's arm in hers, leading her down the hall. "The moisturizer's actually more in the nature of a bribe," she confided. "I have a proposition for you."

"Oh?"

"Yes. One of my regular guests has become interested in having a threesome with another courtesan, and I suspect you might be to his . . ." She paused meaningfully. "Taste."

"Oh." Desirée caught her meaning immediately. Either this regular guest was a Draco, or another alien that drank blood. While Guild rules -- and Confederation law -- meant the risk of death or permanent injury while entertaining a guest was extremely slight, Desirée was still nervous about any creature sucking from her veins. "How long have you had this guest?"

"About 10 standard years now," Cyraena replied, tapping a long, black nail against her aquiline nose. Not for the first time, Desirée envied how the senior courtesan could make even the most mundane action look sensual. "He was one of the first guests to regularly request my services. He has always been a perfect gentleman, and," her black eyes took on a faraway look, "he's quite . . . skilled."

"In that case, I'd be most interested." Desirée was honest enough to admit that, other than the extra pay, the greatest appeal of this offer was being able to watch Cyraena in action. Signora Franco was ruthless about using Galos IV's status as a training facility to keep some of the Guild's best courtesans living and working there. While Cyraena did not quite have the same standing as Professor Ssurhuk-T'at -- she hadn't been yet offered a teaching post -- her reputation was excellent. Desirée hoped to use those sessions to pick up some tips and improve her skills.

"Excellent," Cyraena smiled again. She stopped outside the door to her quarters. "I'll let him know--"

A green light flashed in front of Desirée's cornea, signaling a priority communication. Raising a hand to request a moment, Desirée mentally accepted the call. Nodding her understanding, Cyraena fell silent.

"I just received word from Gruustok." The Galos IV administrator was being unusually brusque, a sign that she was under a lot of tension. "The Throzaahli ship is inbound as we speak, and they want you and Kalyani at Landing Platform VI to greet them. When can you be there?"

Desirée swallowed several swearwords. "I'm sorry, Ma'am, but I just finished entertaining a Mkoltos and I haven't had the chance to shower yet. I'll need at least half-an-hour to get the crap out of my hair."

Veronica's lips formed a thin line. "That's not good enough. We need you at the platform as soon as possible."

"I'm sorry, Ma'am, but I don't see how--"

"Veronica? Cyraena here." The tall Draco used her UTD to cut into the conversation. "Desirée's just outside my quarters. She can use my shower; that should take 15 standard minutes off her time. If you can get someone to run down to her room, however, she will require a clean uniform."

"Thank you, Cyraena, that will help a lot," Veronica responded. "If you could take care of her, that would be most appreciated."

Cyraena smiled. "You owe me one."

Veronica smiled back; she looked exhausted. "Don't I always?" Her image winked out.

Cyraena grabbed Desirée's hand, while her other thumb pressed the pad, causing her door to iris open. "Come. We have no time to waste."

***

Desirée slowed to a walk, just before turning the last corner before Landing Platform VI. She tried to slow her breathing, thankful that the cool air prevented her from breaking into a sweat. Cyraena's spare dressing gown dragged along the carpeted floor; even with the sleeves rolled up, Desirée's hands were still buried in the cuffs.

Just then, Veronica Franco turned the corner. She smiled with relief when she saw the young courtesan.

"You made excellent time," she said, holding out Desirée's spare dress and shoes. "The ship's not here yet. Now, quickly."

Desirée slipped off the dressing gown, passing it to her boss. Completely nude, she shoved her arms into the sleeves, mag-binding the front closed. "Do you have any of my underwear, Ma'am?"

Veronica shook her head. "Don't worry about it." She grinned. "If all goes well, you won't be needing underwear anyway."

Desirée slipped on her red pumps, then straightened. She brushed back her hair while Veronica made sure the dress fitted her properly. Desirée raised an eyebrow when she realized Veronica was spending more time on her breasts than was strictly necessary.

Surprisingly, Veronica blushed. "I really have to get out from behind my desk more often."