Ganymede Station Pt. 01

CHAPTER 2.

I woke up chilly the next morning, even under the blankets. I blinked wide awake and sprang out of bed. I tapped the screen on the wall in the kitchen area, it didn't respond. I quickly pulled on my heated jacket first and clothed myself second. I was shivering but started to warm up quickly with the coat's help. I let out a sigh of relief, quickly followed by a wave of anger. I pulled on my boots and dashed into the hallway. I briskly strode downstairs and over to the first door in the hallway. I bashed on the metal door. I continued to hammer on it until a tall older man answered, wearing a bathrobe and a severe frown.

"What the hell, you know what time it is?" He snarled.

"Yes Ford, I know what time it is. It's about two hours after you shut off my power!" I shouted.

The thin man folded his arms in front of him. "You're fifteen days late on rent. I figured you might actually stop by to pay it if you lost your electricity." He said indifferently.

"Except when you turn off my power, you also shut off my heat! You could have fucking killed me!" I yelled.

He gave me a blank expression. "You sure seem healthy to me, and loud. You want heat? Pay your damn rent or find somewhere else to live."

I whipped my smartscreen out and waved it in his face. "Fine, lucky I just got paid."

Ford's eyes actually lit up at the prospect of making a little money. "About damn time." He grumbled, reaching for his own screen.

"Maybe use some of my rent money to fix my shower? The water pressure is for shit and it takes forever to heat up." I said hotly.

"No promises, next time a plumber stops through I'll have him take a look." He said with disinterest.

This was the way the man told his tenants that it was never going to happen and don't hold your breath.

"We good? You'll turn my power back on?" I asked after a few moments.

"Yup. Turned on within a few hours." Ford said as he backed into his room, closing the door in my face.

I wanted to get out of there so I decided to skip breakfast and check out main street.

Main street or, what passed for Ganymede's downtown was a stretch of a few blocks just behind the spaceport and freight docks. I had traveled briefly through the night before but today I was going to do a little trawling for marks, maybe see if anyone had any more legitimate job offers. There wasn't such a thing as a normal or relaxed day for me, I was always on the clock.

Perhaps I should explain how I got to this point, though it's not a terribly interesting or uncommon tale. I never knew my mom, I don't even have an early memory of her I can reference in my mind. She left me with my father, a man named Cerasbek, when I was a baby and he was a freighter pilot. Ganymede was where he could afford to live and also raise me on a space trucker's salary. There aren't any schools here so he taught me how to read and write, some math and not much else. He was a hard worker, never very affectionate with me and also a pretty heavy drinker. He never hit me or anything but I wouldn't have nominated him for father of the year. Dad slept in the bedroom and I slept on the couch. He had women over sometimes and he would make me listen to movies in the common room loudly to mask the sounds they made. It never quite worked and at that age I would feel uncomfortable, but also aroused. When I was a few years older, I fooled around for the first time with a guy in my dad's room while he was on a weeklong haul. Well, it turned out the haul had been cut short and my father came home a day early. He caught me with my mouth on another man's prick.

"D-Dad!" I cried in alarm.

His face was surprised, at first, but it quickly changed into something else I didn't recognize. I learned shortly after it was disgust. He ordered me over to a neighbor's place the following day, and when I arrived home later for dinner, he was gone. He had taken his clothes, personal belongings and freighter but left me some money which helped me pay rent for a few months. I was devastated. I was able to take over my father's lease on this crappy apartment because I lied, convinced the landlord that I was old enough and that my dad had left and wasn't coming back. Ganymede has never been a hospitable place for kids, but it was harder without anyone to look out for, or take care of me. Jobs were scarce, they still are, and I had no skills to brag about. I had wanted to be a pilot like my dad, like many of the folks throughout the station, but I was a minor, had no credit, no parent or guardian to vouch for me or way to pay for pilot's school. There wasn't even a pilot's school on the station.

I learned sometime later that I had developed a fit young body and certain men would look me over, more so when I dressed in tight-fitting clothes and flirted with them. By the time I was halfway through my eighteenth year I was a whore.

And that's my story up to this point, I'm not trying to garner sympathy. It's a shit life but that's how it goes.

I walked along main street to the Rose Thorn, one of the largest brothels and stepped inside. A wide, circular bar room spread out before me. There were round tables, a small stage to one side and two long bars at the back of the room. It was nearly empty at this time of day except for a handful of locals and some ladies trying to get work. A few girls lingered near the front of the establishment but frowned when they saw me.

"Looking for Tetha?" Asked one of them with a bored expression.

"Yeah, is she around?" I asked.

"I'll tell her. You can follow me." She said.

She led me through a narrow hallway to a door with red leather embossment. I had been here many times before, Tetha's office and occasional dungeon. The girl who had guided me back knocked on the metal frame of the door.

"Tetha? Cheyne is here." She said.

After a moment I heard. "You can show him in."

the girl opened the door to let me inside and closed it once I entered. Tetha was standing near her long, black wooden desk. Such an extravagant item would be expensive to get here, but I knew she had deep pockets. She wore dark red lingerie, high heeled boots and held a small tight cord wrapped in her hand. She was a fair bit older than me but kept herself in outstanding physical shape. The purple tone of her skin was nearly the color of night. She was often in high demand by men and some women, though not many could afford her services. Next to the desk, strapped to a metal ring hanging from the ceiling was her current customer. He appeared to be in his late thirties, hairy and slightly overweight. He wore only a leather mask over his eyes and red marks covered much of his exposed flesh.

Tetha's tail switched behind her, indicating her impatience. "Well Cheynex? What is it?"

"I can wait outside, I didn't know you were with anyone." I said.

"Don't be absurd, and anyway, he seems to like that I have company, it embarrasses him, it excites him." She flicked the man's round rump with the short whip. He cried out and I watched as his cock stiffened noticeably with the blow.

"See?" Tetha asked as she made her point. "Now what did you come by for? You here to pay what you owe?"

I frowned. "Tetha I don't owe you any money. I just came by to see if you knew of any odd jobs around the station or knew of any pilots who might be interested in me."

Tetha was a shrewd businesswoman but more than that, she had her finger on the pulse of Ganymede. She almost always knew information even before the dockmasters. If a freight pilot stopped by her establishment, she often knew his kink even before he did.

She pushed the leather cord into my hands. "You whip him for awhile, I need a drink."

The man trembled in anticipation. "Please hit me, sir." He pleaded quietly.

This wasn't something that interested me much. I had no issues with folks who enjoyed bondage play but I liked my sex more intimate than this. Something about being whipped in a dark office while blindfolded by someone who just happened by, struck me as almost comically impersonal. Perhaps that was the idea. Still, I knew if I wanted any useful information from the brothel owner I would have to heed her request.

I snapped the whip lightly against the man's thigh, forcing another moan from him. I walked behind him and lashed him across the rear.

"Honey, he's not even going to feel that. Give him his money's worth." Tetha instructed as she poured herself a glass of whiskey.

I grimaced. I didn't like inflicting pain on others, even when they were into the sensations.

The whip slashed out again around the side of his hairy gut and left a long red welt.

"Ow! Oh, oh, fuck." The man writhed in his restraints and precum dripped from his dick.

"I-I don't want to continue." I said uncomfortably.

Tetha looked at me carefully as if sizing me up. "You're too sweet for this life, Cheynex. I've told you before. So pretty though, I could line a man up for you every night if you were here."

She walked over and took the whip from my hand. She cracked it in a flash in front of my face, causing one of the man's breasts to start trickling blood.

"Fuck! Ouch! Hey, not that rough!" He cried out in a frightened tone.

"Sorry, baby, I'll ease up." She said soothingly while staring me in the eyes. Tetha's irises were almost entirely red, nearly malevolent.

"I don't know of any work for you." She said presently. "And I don't think I'll know of any more work for you in the future." She took a sip of her drink as she walked around the man, eyeing him like he was her prey.

"What? Why not?" I exclaimed. "I always send any men who aren't interested in what I have to offer to you! Fair is fair!"

"That used to be true, but I feel like some of those men would have come here already but get sucked in by your little seductions somewhere along the way. You get paid, but where does that leave me?" She reached out and twisted one of the slave's nipples violently. He whimpered in response.

"I'm one guy! I can't possibly be drawing much business away, if any and besides, we're both scabarethen, we need to stick together. There's not that many of us on Ganymede." I said, feeling like I was making compelling points.

"I've let you have your little side venture, Cheynex, because your father was something of a friend, but it's starting to become mildly annoying." She reached down and squeezed the large man's testicles hard in her hand while he grunted and gasped for breath. She continued. "Your options at this point are to work for me here, or start paying me a percentage of what you're pulling in."

"I can barely afford my rent, Tetha. Please be reasonable." I begged.

The thought of working here made me uneasy. There was a darker side to this place and I couldn't stand the thought of being owned by someone. It might seem like she was just offering me a job but I knew from girls and young men who had worked here in the past that Tetha could be ruthless. I determined that keeping my distance, as well as I could, was still my best course of action. I moved toward the door.

"I'm sorry to waste your time." I said.

"I'm sorry you wasted my time." She echoed. "I'd like your decision by the end of the week. Pay me, or work for me. No more free enterprise in my station. Consider this a warning." She said sternly.

She turned halfway back to the bruised man and I watched while she rained a small trail of blows down his front, ending just above his genitals. He groaned and wailed but his maleness still bobbed excitedly with each lash.

I pushed the door open partway.

"It's not your station, Tetha. I'm just trying to make a living, and I'm not trying to be an obstacle for you." I stated firmly.

When she said nothing in response, I left the room and headed back down the dark hallway to the large front room.

I felt bothered by the conversation with Tetha. She had looked the other way for the last several years while I slept with some of the freighter pilots who came through this way. I knew she had been a friend to my father, he had told me once before, though I was ignorant as to the full nature of their relationship. When I had first gone to see her years ago she had recognized me instantly and been kind to me. She helped me pay my rent and afford food for awhile after my initial savings my dad left ran dry. She had explained that she owed my father and helping me out would make them square. She had asked me early on to start working for her and when I told her I wanted to do my own thing she had seemed mostly understanding. Perhaps the unspoken agreement was that I would eventually accept her offer. Despite her beauty, and knowledge, she had always made me nervous. Even with my limited experience of such things, I knew you didn't become the head of the most profitable brothel on Ganymede through business savvy alone. Now it sounded like I was given an ultimatum and I honestly wasn't sure what the outcome would be if I didn't follow her wishes. Maybe I could afford to give her a small cut, though that meant doubling my efforts to take men to bed which made my stomach knot. Though I enjoyed sex, I wished it could be on my terms, and not those dictated by their credits.

I was still focused on the previous conversation so I didn't notice the fellow standing near the bar as I weaved through tables toward the exit doors.

"Hey!" I heard a man's voice call.

I stopped and turned, it wasn't a voice I knew. "Yes?" I asked warily.

Once I faced him and peered through the low lighting I could see it was my neighbor, the one-eyed marshall from upstairs.

"Come over here, let me buy you a drink." He said.

He didn't seem entirely unfriendly, although he wasn't especially pleasant.

I sighed. "If you want to buy me a drink, it can't be in here." I scanned the room quickly. I didn't want to be seen luring any potential customers out either.

The man made some motions on his smartscreen, presumably paying for his drinks, and then walked over to join me.

He was a big fellow, and now that he wasn't half doubled over from drink, I could see he was tall and powerfully built. He had a round belly, likely from years of drinking, and a wide frame. He looked like he might be wearing the same clothes from the day before, jeans, a thick jacket and trucker's hat. The hat displayed a marshall's star on the front, underneath was short black hair. There was a long thin red scar that bisected much of his face, starting above his eyebrow and traveling under the eyepatch and across his cheek toward his jaw. It was ugly, but rugged too I supposed. I had done worse, admittedly not by much. I could at least see what he wanted.

"Uh, Jim's Place?" He asked.

It was a pretty shady dive bar relatively close to our apartment building, I surmised that he knew it well.

"That's fine, let's go." I nodded.

As we left and stepped into the brilliant unnatural lights of downtown, my mood brightened a bit and I tried to be a little sweeter. I wasn't going to land a guy if I was being short with him. It did occur to me that it might be a bad idea to mess around so close to home, and with a lawman, but again, it could be a one-time thing and I wasn't about to turn down a potential meal ticket.

"So what were you thinking about?" I asked.

"Huh?" He gave a puzzled look.

"With me. You said you wanted to buy me a drink?" I asked innocently.

"Oh, well yeah. I kinda wanted to apologize for last night."

"Well that's sweet of you, I like that." I smiled.

He frowned. "I was pretty damn drunk, I don't know if I did anything to you."

"Did like what? You don't remember?" I asked guardedly.

"I remember a scabarethen face, must be yours, you're the only one in the building. I think you let me into my place last night?" He reasoned.

I realized he might not actually be looking for a date. "Yeah, you dropped your keycard, I found it and got you into your apartment. You... shoved me and called me a scab." I said with a trace of resentment in my voice.

The marshall grimaced and gave me an apologetic look. "I was so drunk, damn, I'm sorry. I don't normally say stuff like that, I'm not prejudiced or anything."

"Well, it felt shitty, I was trying to be a good neighbor." I said, looking away from him.

He surprised me by grabbing my arm lightly and turning me to face him.

"Hey, I am sorry. I'm trying to keep folks safe around here, so I want to make it up to you." He said seriously.

I saw an opening and perhaps instinct won out over better judgment. Maybe I just misread the signals. I grabbed him by the jacket and pulled his moustached face close to mine.

"If you really want to make it up to me, take me to your place and make me feel good." I punctuated the last word as I cupped and rubbed the front of his jeans.

His eye grew wide with shock and he stepped back.

"Whoa, kid. That is not what I was getting at." He said with a slow shake of his head.

I felt hot with embarrassment and annoyance followed a moment later. "Well what then? You want to buy a man a drink, in a brothel I might add, but don't want to fuck him?"

The marshall's face reddened.

"I wanted to apologize and show you there weren't any hard feelings! Don't be an asshole about it." He growled.

I scoffed. "I'm not being an asshole, dude. Apologies don't pay the fucking bills, you know?" I said indignantly.

"Nevermind, I was, it doesn't matter. Have a nice life. Try not to get killed by the next guy whose cock you grab." He grumbled as he walked past me.

"Great advice!" I called after him. "Try not to drown in the next bottle you crawl into!"

I watched him move away until he disappeared down the next street. The rage in me began to subside and I thought about our exchange. He had apologized for last night and wanted to make it up to me, the kind of things that friends might do for each other, or at least, decent people. I didn't really have friends in this place, just an endless string of men with faces that blended together over time. I was always on the defensive, always on my own so when someone was nice to me I threw it back in their face. I felt like such a piece of garbage. Maybe I could still smooth this over later, I did know where he lived after all.

I spent the rest of my day and evening near the spaceport and surrounding restaurants. I got a few nods and a couple wide grins but couldn't seal any deals. It was disappointing, but such was the nature of my profession. I checked my smartscreen again in case any of my regulars had tried to contact me with no luck.

Dinner was instant food patties from the corner liquor store as I headed home. The food was cheap and easy to prepare, just requiring some water and you could heat it up if you wanted. It tasted, well, mostly awful, but I mentioned it was cheap right?

As I climbed the stairs to the second floor, I considered going one floor further and knocking on the marshall's door. He was probably passed out drunk by this time of night and I didn't really want to deal with that. I wasn't feeling much like apologizing either. I headed for my own apartment instead.

I unlocked the front door and moved inside, closing and locking the door behind me. I could see my breath in the air and feel the cold in my ears and tail. I went to the wall panel and checked it, no power, still. "Sunnuvabitch!" I swore between clenched teeth. Ford still hadn't gotten my power turned back on, an entire afternoon and evening later. I would have to sleep in my self-warming coat and pull a heated blanket out of the closet for the bed.

The patties couldn't be heated in my small oven, but with some water they would still be edible. The tap water was supposedly safe to consume, due to heat and chemical treatments but it tasted funny. I did my best not to think about what I imagined to be swimming around in there. Out of habit I tried to turn on the large paneled screen in the common room next to the sofa. No power, that's right, I thought with a frown. I curled up on the small couch in the dark and decided to watch some programs on my smartscreen. I sat my dinner on the low table in the center of the room and flicked through channels. There was a news program about a severe sandstorm on a faraway planet called Mars. With a swipe I made the screen enlarge and pulled it into three dimensions before setting it on the arm of the couch next to where I sat. I think I remembered that Mars was in the same solar system as Earth, the human homeworld. Mars had been colonized second, after Earth's moon, before they moved beyond their own star system and began to settle the cosmos. It was a very similar origin story for my people as well. Perhaps it was those similarities that made us able to coexist. It might have been those same similarities that had caused us to war against one another years before. The human-scabarethen wars had raged for decades but eventually an accord was reached and knowledge began to be exchanged between the two races. This was all long before my time, even before my father's. Some members of both species still harbored hatred, but it was less frequent than one might expect. Life in space is hard enough without having to hold grudges from previous generations.