Intergalactic Courtesan Ch. 10

She tried not to wriggle; she could feel the leather padding warming against her shoulders and ass, the lilac scent of Veronica as she walked away from her, her bare feet almost silent on the padded floor.

Pandora's Box started to hum; she tried not to flinch as the warmth of the laser scan tickled the soles of her feet. Desirée felt the beam flicker across her ankles and calves, sliding up towards her knees, then along her thighs. The leather padding was warming to her body heat; it caressed her like a lover's hand, its distinctive odour filling the air. Her fingers flexed above her head, the leather cuffs rubbing against her wrists.

The laser scan brushed against her naked pussy lips; she gasped from the sensation, twitching.

"Try not to move, darling." Veronica's voice was husky; her lips brushed Desirée's ear. "It will throw off the scan."

Desirée fought to keep still as the laser slowly slid up her body, following the curve of her taut belly, the rise of her ribcage and up to the stiff peaks of her nipples. The scan slid over her shoulders, along her neck and up over her face before terminating just above her hairline.

The eyemask was removed: Desirée opened her eyes to see Veronica fiddling with something behind the machine. The older woman's gaze was fixed on her work but Desirée could see the spots of colour on her cheeks, her heightened breathing.

"So what's next?" Desirée leaned forward. She could feel the familiar sensations of her own arousal. Despite herself, she shivered.

"We'll need to prepare you for when Prince Viloss and his consort arrive," the curly-haired brunette replied. She walked around Pandora's Box towards the young blonde. "If you wish, I can set up a program that will--"

Desirée cocked an eyebrow. "How much time do we have?"

"Thirty min--" Veronica stopped when she caught the younger courtesan's expression. She blushed; Desirée could see the naked hunger in Veronica's brown eyes before another emotion shuttered her face.

She looked down, cleared her throat. "Desirée, as attractive as your . . . suggestion is, I feel relations between courtesans outside of our work is rarely a good idea. I am flattered, truly, but--"

"You've had sex with Professor Ssurhuk-T'at at least once outside of work hours."

Veronica opened her mouth, then closed it. She smoothed her hands on her Guild uniform, leaving sweat stains on the red and gold fabric. "That's different," she finally said. "Ssurhuk-T'at and I are much closer in seniority. There are less implications of impropriety. We're--"

Desirée caught one of Veronica's fluttered hands in her own. The woman stared at her, stricken. She could see the flush in Veronica's cheeks, her full lips swollen with need, her nipples straining against the tight fabric of her dress. Desirée gently pulled Veronica towards her, looking up into the older woman's dark eyes, she placed a kiss on the soft inner skin of Veronica's wrist.

"The Guild system is far too open to abuse," Veronica started. It sounded more like a plea. "I would never forgive myself for taking advantage of one of the younger courtesans--"

Still staring into her eyes, Desirée took Veronica's hand and placed delicate kisses on the knuckles, her tongue flickering out to lick the soft webbing between her fingers. Veronica gasped, her eyelids fluttered. Desirée smiled; she placed Veronica's hand on her left breast, the palm rubbing her nipple. Sliding her hand outside of Veronica's, she gave it a squeeze so it would transfer the pressure to her high mound. She closed her eyes briefly, then captured Veronica's other hand with her own, drawing her towards her.

"It's been way too long for you, hasn't it?" Desirée asked softly.

Veronica was silent for several seconds, then: "It has."

Smiling nervously, she slid her left hand up Desirée's arm, the simple action making every nerve tingle. Brushing across her shoulder, teasing the sensitive strands of her sandy blonde hair, the senior courtesan lightly cupped Desirée's neck, tilting her head back to receive her kiss.

As a fully trained Guild courtesan, Desirée thought she knew how to kiss. She'd had four years to refine her technique, learning from some of the finest practitioners of the art of giving pleasure in the galaxy. However, she felt like a rank novice when Veronica Franco's experienced lips embraced hers, her tongue sliding against hers in a sinuous dance, her white teeth gently biting Desirée's lower lip, making her moan into Veronica's open mouth. The older woman's fingers gently massaged the back of Desirée's neck, instinctively finding the places that made her melt, heat pooling in her hips.

Veronica's lips slid away from Desirée's, leaving her gasping for air. She lightly bit Desirée's chin before licking, biting and sucking her way down the younger woman's neck before tormenting the delicate flesh of her breasts. She pressed Desirée back onto the examining bed, moving in between her outspread thighs, the fabric of her dress brushing Desirée's pussy, making her moan. Desirée's fingers found the mag binding on the older woman's dress, opening it up, her fingers diving in to caress and squeeze Veronica's creamy mounds.

Veronica hissed and moaned, sinuously moving her body in response to Desirée's caress, her dress sliding to the floor. Desirée, knowing that Veronica liked a harder touch than most, adjusted her technique to compensate, squeezing her small breasts and pulling the swollen nipples.

"I'm afraid I can't let you cum, my dear," Veronica whispered in Desirée's ear before lightly biting the soft flesh under her lobe. "Prince Viloss must experience your emotions at full arousal for this to work."

"But what about you?" She writhed under Veronica's weight, using her lips, teeth and tongue to attack the other woman's throat, using the same technique the senior courtesan had used on her.

"You are a wicked, wicked girl," she said approvingly, taking a few seconds to slide off her panties, her hips wriggling against Desirée's inner thighs. Her mouth dove in for a long, lingering kiss, their lips and tongues dancing with each other. Again, Desirée moaned, helpless against flawless technique and several centuries of experience. Veronica's long fingers slid up Desirée's flanks, finding the countless places that made her writhe and whimper with pleasure.

"Sit on my face." Desirée gripped a handful of Veronica's hair, pulling her head away from hers, gently biting Veronica's soft chin. The older woman whimpered before gathering her hips under her, bringing her pelvis up towards her lover's waiting mouth.

Desirée's mouth watered at the sight of Veronica's neatly trimmed pussy, the soft folds dewy and radiating heat. Veronica's body was firm and youthful, despite her many centuries. Her ribs were visible but not jutting and there were no signs of sagging or stretch marks. Desirée's hands gripped Veronica's hips as if she was a priceless goblet that the young courtesan was about to sip from.

Veronica moaned when Desirée's tongue brushed her clitoris; she bit her lower lip, massaging her breasts as she lowered herself onto Desirée's waiting mouth. Almost immediately, she started bucking uncontrollably, wailing and biting her lip while Desirée's tongue speared her inner depths. Desirée could tell Veronica was close: her pussy was unbelievably hot and lubricating furiously. Trying to get some room so she could breathe, the young courtesan slid her arms around Veronica's taut thighs -- fondling the velvet skin over rubber hard flesh -- using her fingers to spread and caress Veronica's pussy lips.

Then, just as her thumb rubbed Veronica's clit against her pelvic bone, Desirée's tongue stabbed into the older woman's hot depths as far as it would go. The reaction was electric: Veronica screamed her orgasm, her hips blurring against Desirée's face as her pussy juices gushed all over her lover's mouth and chin. She convulsed for almost twenty seconds, her firm breasts jiggling from the forces thrusting through her body.

"Oh wow," Veronica panted when she was finally able to speak. Her face was flushed and her hair was loose around her head. "Thank you so much. I needed that."

Lifting Desirée's hands, she slowly kissed them, making lingering love to each finger before placing the young courtesan's wrists back on the leather armrests. Sliding her naked body against Desirée's, she lowered herself onto her lover, kissing and licking her cum from Desirée's face and neck, still holding her arms over her head. Desirée moaned from the sensation, feeling every nerve tingle to the sensations Veronica's talented lips and tongue provoked in her. She dimly wondered if it was possible to cum just from being kissed like that.

"That was good, my dear," Veronica whispered when she was finished, her face close to Desirée's. "But now it's time for the master to get to work."

She chuckled, a wicked, throaty sound, before she slid, kissing her way down Desirée's taut young body. Desirée closed her eyes against the sensation, but they opened wide when she tried to move her arms. She looked up: At some point, Veronica had somehow managed to cuff Desirée's wrists without her even noticing it.

"Relax, my dear," Veronica chuckled from where she had been nibbling on Desirée's breasts. "It's my turn to give you pleasure now."

Desirée moaned when Veronica's teeth lightly bit her nipple, arching her back to encourage the other courtesan to do more.

"That's right," Veronica whispered. "You know the way there."

Desirée barely noticed as Veronica strapped her ankles into the stirrups; she was focused on the silky softness of Veronica's body sliding against hers, the feel of her mouth against her velvet skin. Desirée moaned, all thought chased out of her head by the incredible sensations the senior courtesan was giving her. Desirée's nipples were incredibly hard, sticking nearly half an inch from her young breasts; her taut belly heaved, trails of sweat and saliva running down the ridge of her ribcage and pooling at her belly button, her pelvis glistening as it moved voluptuously under her lover's talented touch.

It was a master class in pleasure. Veronica played her body like Farrah Farruhz had played the kalushtra last night: manipulating her writhing body with a virtuoso's touch, anticipating her needs, helping her traverse the terraces of arousal. Desirée was adrift in a sea of delight, never wanting it to end.

Her eyes snapped open: Veronica's hands and mouth abruptly left her body. The air in the room was suddenly cold on Desirée's overheated skin. She whimpered from the sudden loss of sensation.

"I'm so sorry, my dear." Veronica's brown eyes were wicked. "But I did tell you that I couldn't allow you to cum." She lifted herself from Desirée's writhing body, admiring how it curved invitingly on the padded table. "You're perfect," she said, sliding on her red panties before putting her dress back on. "Once Prince Viloss tastes your emotions, he'll be ravishing his wife like he's never done before."

"Just one," Desirée begged, struggling against the soft cuffs. "Just one little orgasm. Please."

"Sssh," Veronica said. Now fully dressed, she lightly ran her fingers along Desirée's body, then kissed the soft flesh of her inner arm. "I've put together a special program that's tailored to drive you wild. You just wait for Prince Viloss, my dear, and it will be nothing like you've ever experienced before."

She pushed Pandora's Box so that it was between the stirrups, the machine half a foot from Desirée's dripping pussy. Giving the black machine one last check, Veronica detached a wireless remote from the housing and placed it on the soft floor by the door. Putting her shoes back on her feet, she pressed a sequence on the numbered keypad by the door, causing it to iris open.

"Try to relax until I get back, dear," she said demurely, just before the door closed behind her. "I won't be long."

Desirée whined with frustration when she finally realized she was alone. She strained against the straps but she was firmly bound in place, unable to do anything except lie there and wait for someone to come and turn on the box. She could feel the aching emptiness, the need for someone or something to caress her clit, nibble her nipples and fill her starving cunt. The breeze from the internal vents was cool on her sweaty body, a contrast to the warm leather that cupped her back and ass. The seconds ticked slowly by. It was agony.

She looked at the featureless black box, wondering what it would do to her when (or possibly if) someone bothered to come in and turn the damn thing on. Judging from the way Veronica talked about it, it was something pretty impressive. But right now, she didn't care.

Even the clumsy touch of a Mkoltos would be enough to bring her to orgasm, but she couldn't touch any part of herself. She was entirely dependent on whoever would walk through that door to give the satisfaction her body was screaming for. She licked parched lips; she shifted in her restraints, seeing if she could even get the tiniest touch of her thigh against her swollen pussy lips, so as to get herself off. But it was no use; she couldn't move. Thanks to the disruptor field, she couldn't access her UTD. The room had no windows and there was a constant light; no way she could judge the passage of time.

An endless moment later, the door irised open. A Grankhaur stooped through the portal. The ten-foot tall reptilian warrior flipped open a portable scanner, glaring at her with dead eyes as he manipulated the controls. Desirée bit her lip, feeling a chill despite her high arousal.

The Grankhauer were considered the best bodyguards and mercenaries in the Confederation. Fanatically loyal to whoever was paying them, they were some of the most terrifying warriors this side of the Leonorilla Battle Masters. In addition, the Grankhauer warriors were gelded at birth, so as not to be distracted by pleasures of the flesh. The procedure did nothing to soften their near-psychotic temperament.

After several seconds of consulting his scanner, the Grankhauer grunted. "Everything in this room looks clear," he spoke to someone outside the door, his hissing translated through Desirée's UTD. "However, I don't like the looks of that black box by the human female. I want it removed."

Veronica Franco entered the room, leading a pair of richly-dressed Pathor. The male, who could only be Prince Viloss, appeared pale and on edge. The young woman at his side -- his wife Princess Felidia -- had the bored look of a spoiled child.

"As I have told you before," Veronica said evenly once the door was closed, "the box is no threat to your Masters and is essential for this to work. I have explained its function to you twice already. There is no need for you to worry."

The Grankhauer bared his carnivore's teeth. "I do not find your reassurances sufficient, Guild Administrator," he hissed. "I see too much potential for harm."

Veronica's brown eyes blazed. "Are you implying that the Guild's security systems aren't sufficient to protect our guests?" she asked. "You seem to forget that it is also the Guild's reputation at stake should something go wrong. That gives me an equal reason to be concerned for your Masters' welfare."

The Grankhauer's talons flexed. "So you say. Words are cheap."

"K'rulthlass, that's enough," Prince Viloss said firmly, placing his seven-fingered hand on Veronica's shoulder. "We have already trusted our secrets to Guild Administrator Franco; her discretion and trustworthiness are well-known throughout the Confederation."

"Yes, Master," K'rulthlass hissed, his body language subservient. "Please forgive my hasty words, Administrator Franco. My concern for my Master's wellbeing is paramount."

"Accepted," she replied graciously. "We both wish to protect your Prince from harm, K'rulthlass. There's no reason why we should bicker over his safety." The Grankhauer nodded.

"Your Highness," Veronica bowed to the Prince and his consort. "This room is yours. The remote," she picked it up and offered it to Prince Viloss, "controls the box that will stimulate Guild Courtesan Tanner. The large dial here adjusts the intensity of the stimulation. Is there anything else you require?"

"No, there is not," the Prince replied. "You and K'rulthlass may leave us." Felidia snorted, staring at the opposite wall.

Both Veronica and the Grankhauer bowed formally and left the room, the door irising closed behind them.

"Now we are alone, my dear," Sparing a quick look at Desirée, curved invitingly on the padded table, Prince Viloss turned on the remote and adjusted the dial to a low setting. He was about average height for a Pathor, about 5 feet tall, and his body was slender. Pale, shoulder-length hair curled past his pointed ears, highlighting sharp, even cruel features. Path was a permanently overcast, forest world and his irises were pinholes even in the relatively dim light of Room 7419.

Desirée stifled a moan. A soft brush had extended from Pandora's Box and was lightly stroking the tender flesh along her neck, behind her knees and the inside of her arms, but deliberately staying away from any of her erogenous zones. She shivered from the sensation, her frustration vanishing with the onset of arousal.

"Alone, but for the slut." Princess Felidia was from one of the high noble houses on Path, and Desirée knew their marriage was chiefly a political one. She had dark brown hair and olive skin, an extreme rarity on Path, and she was clearly proud of her exotic colouring. Despite her beauty, her face had a sullen expression, and Desirée could feel her anger from across the room.

"You resent the Guild Courtesan's presence?"

"Why should I feel any resentment, my lord?" Her tone dripped acid. "I am but your consort. I am not allowed to feel any emotion merely because my husband does not find my beauty sufficient to stir his desire, and he must use others for his stimulation. Are you planning on fucking the human whore as well?"

Despite the feathery touches from the brush, Desirée fought to control her anger over being called a whore. But she was smart enough not to say anything; for now, she needed to be unheard, her heated emotions inspiring Prince Viloss to mount his wife.

"Felidia, that is enough." He said calmly. "You know the situation. I've always known your biggest ambition was to become Queen of Path. Should you wish to fulfill that ambition, we need to make an heir, you and I. Isn't that sacrifice enough to get what you truly want?" His lip curled.

"Of course, my lord." She bowed her head, but the acid never left her voice. "I am your obedient servant, here only to serve your needs. Are you *up*," she emphasized the word maliciously, "to giving me your orders?"

In a corner of her mind, Desirée felt a pressure, as if a window had suddenly opened. Prince Viloss gasped, then his mouth opened in a lazy grin. "See for yourself, my dear." Desirée could see the erection tenting his pants.

"Very good, my lord," she sniffed. "I'm glad to see the slut's thoughts arouse you. I feel so complimented by your interest in her, and so pleased that we must violate our laws, and ancient custom, for you to get your seed in me. Shall I remove my clothes so you can mount me for once? And shall I show you which hole you have to stick it in?"

Despite his erection, Prince Viloss' face was bitter. "You shall open your thoughts to the courtesan's," he said. "That is an order."

"I'd sooner kiss a Grankhauer."

"That can be arranged," he said smoothly. She pouted, sarcastically acknowledging the hit. Then, his face changed. "Come, my dear. This must happen: you want it, and I want it. I have gone to great expense to arrange this afternoon. If not for me, then think of your ambition. Think of what carrying my child will do for the prestige of your House. You need a son, I need a son, the kingdom needs an heir. If not for your own needs, then think of your House."