Galactic Odyssey Ch. 06

My first meeting with George Vlissidis was not at all what I expected.

I spent four long days in the brig of George's cruiser, staring at the ceiling, worrying about my fate. Judging by his reputation, I had little doubt that this would not end well. I just hoped that Nora would do the smart thing and blame everything on me - it was enough if one of us was in trouble.

Despite my precarious situation, I had to admit that the conditions in jail were good. The food came regularly, I was unrestrained in my cell, and I got to keep my clothes. They had even sent a doctor to treat the various bruises that I had suffered on the transport, which was a first in all of my lockup experiences.

From what I could see through the small window in the door, the jail's population consisted mostly of drunks sleeping it off before being released in the morning. I figured that more serious offenders wouldn't end up here - they'd probably take a short walk out of the nearest airlock.

*

On the morning of the fifth day, right after a decent breakfast and a quick shower, a guard passed a flat cardboard box through the meal slot.

"Put that on, you're going out."

I opened the box and examined its contents. It was a red cocktail dress, shoulder-free and classy, with matching shoes and a black purse - all of it way out of my price range. The dress fit me perfectly, showing ample cleavage without looking tacky and the heels were exactly my size, too. When I opened the purse, I found some makeup and a small mirror, so for the first time in a while, I applied lipstick and eyeliner.

No doubt about it, the whole outfit was a big step up from the second-hand uniform I had worn the past week and maybe, just maybe, this meant a slow and painful death was not in my immediate future.

"Excuse me, a little help please," I said, when the guard opened the door.

I turned around and he closed the zipper, but even though I offered my hands, he didn't cuff me. Instead, he escorted me out of the cell block, through several security doors, out of the jail area.

"Report to the boss's office on deck one," he instructed me. "And if you're still alive afterwards, get back here. Understood?"

I gulped. "Understood."

The next transport capsule was just a few steps away, but even the short walk from my cell made me realize that this wouldn't work. Shackles I could deal with, but high heels - not so much. Carrying the expensive shoes, I entered the capsule barefoot and selected my destination.

*

I arrived at the office of Donald Rann who, according to the nameplate on his desk, was Big George's chief of staff. Rann was a bearded, older guy wearing a business suit.

When he saw me, he got up from his seat and shook my hand.

"You must be Cassidy," he said, smiling friendly. "We heard so much about you. Go on in, George is expecting you. But please, you should really wear the shoes, he picked them himself."

"Sorry," I said, putting my high heels back on.

"What do I ... err, do you have any advice for me?" I asked, while my knees were getting weaker and weaker.

But Rann didn't answer - he just smiled and opened the padded door to George's office.

*

My stomach churned when I entered the large, minimally furnished room.

Big George was sitting in an executive chair behind a huge wooden desk and didn't acknowledge my arrival. Looking out of the large observation window into space, he watched formations of fighters passing by, providing cover for the cruiser and its support vessels.

Even sitting down he was an imposing figure, muscular and tall and I was surprised by how young he looked. He had to be in his late seventies, but didn't look a day older than forty - no doubt the result of expensive rejuvenation treatments. His head was shaved bald and he was wearing a gray, three-piece business suit, which was probably more expensive than all the clothes I had ever owned combined.

After a thorough, but nervous look at him, I saw a woman next to his desk, kneeling on a cushion. I immediately recognized her.

It was Nora - and from the looks of it, she was in good health.

She was wearing a sparkly violet collar and a tight black bodysuit that left her large breasts and her crotch exposed. Her breasts were bulging around the wide, permanent steel bands and her nipples were still adorned by the familiar large-gauge rings.

The breast decoration I had seen before, but the chain between her legs was a recent addition. It seemed to be a leash of some kind that ended in a leather handle which George had wrapped around his left wrist.

I smiled at Nora and she winked back at me. I was so glad that she was okay and I could tell that she was happy to see me.

*

Unsure what to do, I kept standing there in front of his desk, focusing on my toes. There were no chairs other than George's in the entire office, but even if there had been one, I never would have dared to sit down.

Finally, after a few long, nerve-wrecking minutes, he turned his head and looked me over, showing his pearly white teeth. His version of a smile, probably, but I wasn't sure.

"Ahhh, there she is, my young troublemaker," he said in a conversational tone, in his deep, booming voice. "You look lovely, my dear."

"Th-thanks," I stuttered.

"How may I address you?" he asked. "Is it still Cassidy? Or Evangeline? Andara? Jelena maybe? All those names, must be hard to keep track."

"Cassidy will do, sir."

He nodded and looked at the ceiling, seemingly lost in thought as another fighter squadron flew by outside the window.

"I get it, a woman needs her independence. Go on an adventure, have some fun with the girls, maybe even eat some pussy. That's fine, I accept that, but you two caused me quite a bit of a headache. Exploring the galaxy all on your own and disrupting my business, all while I sit here and worry. I'm a reasonable man, no matter what you may have heard, but I'm sure you understand that I can't let that slide."

I said nothing. I never expected that he would let anything slide.

"The wife already got her little ... souvenir for the trouble she put me through. See, last time she overstayed her vacation, we settled on a nose ring as the next souvenir and a couple of days ago, we even had the grommet installed. Show her, darling."

George extended his hand but Nora evaded it, shooting him an angry glare.

"I think she's a little cross. That's how things are in a marriage, I'm sure she'll come around. Anyway, I had to cut off the ring, her face looks so much better without it. But we found a suitable replacement, I should have thought about it earlier."

He tugged on the leash that was attached somewhere between Nora's legs, making her wince.

"Nothing inspires obedience in a girl quite like a clit leash. Right, honey?"

Nora rolled her eyes and didn't answer.

"I'm joking, of course. She's not the obedient type and that's exactly how I like my women. But enough about the wife. What about you, did my guys treat you okay?"

"Boys will be boys," I said. "Nothing I couldn't handle."

He raised his eyebrows. "What did they do?"

"It's fine, sir. I worked at enough space port brothels, I can deal with a bunch of horny mercs."

He bit his lower lip and touched his comlink, establishing a voice connection. "Donnie, it's George ... look, the Alderians went a little overboard with my wife's friend ... yes ... not following orders, exactly ... not the first time, no ... wait, don't bring them in ... yes ... thanks, Donnie."

Through the large window, I could see one of the cruiser's massive gun batteries take aim at a shuttle craft floating at the starboard side. There was a short blue flash when the shuttle's automated defense systems raised the shields, but of course they were no match for that kind of firepower. All it took was a short burst of energy from the guns and the shuttle evaporated.

It was a struggle to keep up my poker face. Fucking hell, I thought, while I watched the debris of the shuttle fizzle out. If this is how he treats his associates, what is he going to do to me?

While my hopes for survival were reaching a new low, George turned his attention back to me as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. By his standards maybe it hadn't.

"So. You stole one of my transports, sold a shipment that belonged to me and you had a hand in kidnapping my wife. Now, she swears that you had nothing to do with it, all evidence be damned, but I have my doubts. And then you evaded capture for months, which cost me significant time and money to track you down. All while my beautiful wife fell seriously behind on her professional and marital obligations. Did I miss anything?"

"I think that covers it, sir," I said, staring at my toes. "And I also blew up a couple of your transports at that mining outpost."

"Right. Those were independent contractors, technically, but we'll add that to your list of transgressions. You know, nobody has dared to disrespect me like that in a very long time."

"I meant no dis-" I started, but George put a finger on his lips.

"Let me finish, please. I have a certain reputation to uphold and I'm sure you'll understand that a clean and simple solution like a shot in the head or the airlock won't do. This calls for something ... drastic, something that makes people take notice."

I gulped, feeling weak in my knees.

"On the other hand," he continued, "I'm already in trouble with the wife, she'd give me a hard time if I killed you. So I was thinking of setting you up in the pits, punitive solitary for life. If I remember correctly, you already had a taste."

I shuddered at the thought. Two months sensory deprivation in the pits had been the most horrific jail experience I ever had. Spending the rest of my life there would be beyond cruel - all alone without any human contact, I would slowly lose my mind.

He scratched his head while nightmarish scenes played in my head. If I took these stupid heels off, I might make it to an airlock - anything was better than the pits.

"It's a real conundrum, I thought long and hard about it. You know, the problem is that despite our ... differences, I think I like you. I had you investigated and you remind me of myself when I was younger - smart and talented, but also way too reckless. There is a lot you have to learn, but the most important thing is that you respect yourself. Compromise when you have to, but never, never let anyone walk all over you. Remember that, it's important."

"Yes, sir."

George rocked back and forth in his chair.

"You know what? How about you come and work for me? I'm sure we'll find a spot where you can work off your debt."

My jaw dropped. Maybe I might survive this after all.

"Only if you let Nora go," I said quickly, realizing the stupidity of my request immediately.

George laughed.

"Kid, I like your spirit. But seriously, you've been dealt a really shitty hand, you don't get to dictate terms. And there's got to be some atonement, we can't forego that. After all the ... displeasure you caused me, a good, hard whipping is in order. Let's start with two hundred per week for the time being. And a permanent reminder, of course. What about your clitty? That'll be a fitting price, I think."

Not long ago I had been sure that I would die a slow, gruesome death, so all things considered, it was a pretty good deal. If regular whippings and my clit were the price for my survival, then I would pay without hesitation.

"Okay," I said. "Let's do it."

He extended his hand, but Nora shook her head.

George winced. "Mhhh, wait, the wife doesn't approve. Alright, you can keep your nubbin', but you won't get out of a few whacks. That's non-negotiable."

Nora pointed at her neck.

"Oh, sorry," said George and typed something on his comlink. Nora cleared her throat and I realized that she must have been muted by a neural gag. Apparently, the pretty, sparkling collar wasn't just a fashion item.

"Are you crazy, George? Two hundred a week?! You promised to be reasonable - that is the opposite of reasonable!"

She was clearly upset - based on her own experience on Emaris, she had a good understanding of what that sentence meant.

"Alright, alright. One hundred per week, but that's my final offer. She should thank her lucky stars that she's still alive."

"If she gets a hundred, then I'll proxy for fifty."

"No, you don't," I said firmly.

"Absolutely not," said George. "You already got your penalty, we're even. Don't worry about your friend, she has chosen this life and she knew the risk. She's tougher than most men I know, she won't complain."

That was flattering in a way, but I hated how once more my reputation was getting me in trouble.

"I'll tell you what," he said. "We'll find you a job and in a few weeks time we'll do a performance review and decide whether the number goes up or down. If you prove to be an asset to me, I might even help you find your sister."

*

It hadn't been much of a negotiation, I was completely at his mercy. And if there was any chance that he would help me find Amara, then I had no choice, I had to accept. Finding her among millions of slaves was hard even with George's resources at one's disposal - for me alone it was next to impossible, so I shook his hand, sealing the deal.

"Great," he said. "Don't worry about the whipping, we've got an Everton's here, you will get professional service. I'll leave it up to you how often you go, but make sure the balance stands at one hundred by the end of the week."

"I, err, I don't have any money," I said. Getting whipped at an agency wasn't cheap, especially with the numbers I was facing.

"It's on the house, go and ask Donnie to set up an unlimited account for you. I acquired a controlling interest in the company forty years ago, as a front for laundering money. Quite lucrative, even though financially it never reached its full potential."

"That doesn't surprise me," I said, remembering my own experiences and the stories I had heard from friends. "It lags a bit behind the competition."

George raised an eyebrow. "Our bots are top notch and management tells me we're very competitive on price."

"Yes, but prices aren't low enough to put up with the, err, bad service."

"You think it's a service issue?" he asked, sounding genuinely surprised.

I nodded. "The worst out of the big three. Spectacularly bad in some instances."

He scratched his belly.

"Mhhh. I'll be the first to admit that we may have a blind spot here. My other ventures are not that ... focused on the end customer. When I first invested in corporal punishment, it was a bit of a goldrush. All you needed was a contract with local law enforcement, a few bribes, and you were in business. Maybe it's time to rethink our strategy."

He touched his comlink. "Donnie, it's George. Sorry to interrupt again ... Who's running Everton's these days? ... Ahmad, right, I remember the guy ... send him over, on the double ... fantastic. Thanks, Donnie."

Nora got up from her cushion and took the leash from George's hand.

"You had your fun," she said. "If you think I'll kneel here all day and listen to you yapping, then you're mistaken. I'm punching out, I've got better things to do."

He shrugged and leaned back in his chair while Nora pulled a small set of keys from his shirt pocket. She used it to unlock the leash and the collar and threw both in the waste bin next to the desk.

"Take care of yourself, Cass," Nora said and gave me a hug. "We'll talk later. And you, George, behave."

"I heard she got a few lashes on Emaris," George half whispered as she walked out the door. "I guess it's a sensitive topic."

*

It didn't take long until a short guy in a suit appeared. He was sweating profusely and seemed nervous, which was understandable. Half an hour ago, George had expressed his unhappiness with some of his employees by blasting their ship to pieces.

"You asked for me, Mr. Vlissidis, sir?"

"I did, thanks for coming here at such short notice, Ahmad. Remind me, what's your title?"

"I'm the general manager, sir."

"Very well. Cassidy, meed Ahmad, our general manager. Ahmad, meet Casssidy. She's a former customer who didn't like our ... experience."

"Sir, nobody likes the experience. That's the nature of our business, sir."

George leaned back in his chair, pondering for a minute.

"I think we might be going a little bit too easy on ourselves, Ahmad. We make good money, but our competitors have outperformed us in every single quarter for as long as I can remember. Why don't you show her our local shop, she's got a hundred whacks coming anyway. Maybe she's got some ideas that can help us."

"Very well, sir," said Ahmad, taking a small bow.

"I expect a full report with first measures on my desk by the end of this week. If there's good stuff in there, we'll roll it out to a few test shops and see how they do. Maybe starting with our local one."

"Excuse me," I said. "I think ten lashes are sufficient for a first test run."

George laughed out loudly. "Kid, I like your sense of humor. Let's make it twenty-five, we can't risk having incomplete data. If the report is good I might deduct some, but for now the total number is still one hundred. And you, Ahmad, you will follow her instructions. Full access, I don't want to hear any complaints."

"Of course, sir. Please follow me, Ma'am."

*

After a quick stop at Mr. Rann's desk on the way out, I became the proud owner of an Everton's customer account, granting me access to free and unlimited punishments, deducted directly from Big George's bank account. As much as I hated getting whipped, at least I wouldn't go bankrupt over it.

"So you're running the shop?" I asked Ahmad while we were waiting for a transport capsule.

He gave me an indignant look.

"I run all the shops, Ma'am. All fifty-six thousand of them."

Okay, I thought. This could be interesting.

"I need a baseline, Ahmad. Don't follow me in there and don't try to manipulate the experience. If I find out you're cheating, I'll make sure George knows about it."

"Yes, Ma'am. I shall wait outside."

*

Whether the shop was close or far away, I couldn't tell. In less than ten seconds, the transport capsule took us there and our stop was just a few steps away from the Ewerton's agency. I looked at the familiar, boring logo and took a mental note - this would be one of the things to include in the report.

For five to ten minutes I walked up and down in front of the shop, doing breathing exercises and trying to fight the nauseous feeling that I always had when I was about to get a thorough thrashing. It was no use, I had to go in eventually, so I forced myself through the door.

"I'm Cassidy. I need a session for twenty-five," I said to the girl standing behind the counter. She was a plain brunette, wearing a blazer with the company logo on her lapel.

She continued chewing her gum and didn't look up from the terminal. After letting me stand there for a minute, she finally waved a scanner in my direction.

"My, my, an unlimited account. But don't you worry, we deal with uppity whores all the time."

"I'm not-"

"Shut up," she interrupted me, "or I'll give you a few extra, on the house."

What a stupid cow, I thought, but managed to suppress my anger. If I wanted a realistic experience, I needed to stay incognito.

"Put that on," she said and handed me a red control collar.

With the collar locked around my neck, she gave me a clear plastic garbage bag from one of the boxes behind her desk.

"Strip and put everything in there."

"Excuse me? Here? In front of you?"

She pressed a button on her terminal and my entire world exploded in agony. I grabbed the edge of the counter, trying to steady myself. Fuck, that had hurt.

"Bitch, I don't have all day. Get naked or you'll get another one."