Intergalactic Courtesan Ch. 11

"How was this morning?" Desirée kissed Cyraena on both cheeks, then slipped onto the spherical Smart Chair which started adjusting itself to fit her dimensions.

"Quite . . . pleasurable," the gray-skinned woman winked at her. Desirée was secretly envious of the way Cyraena made every movement a sensual act. "There are days where I truly love my work." She grinned lasciviously, showing her long, pointed canines.

"That sounds like something you picked up from Signora Franco," Desirée chuckled.

"Mmm." Cyraena took another sip from her jug. "Do you follow the newsfaxes?"

"I haven't read them yet," Desirée replied. Ordinarily, she always stayed abreast of current events so that she could discuss them intelligently with her guests. "Why, is there anything of interest?"

Cyraena sipped from her jug. "Actually, there is something you might be interested in. The Royal House of Pathor just announced that Princess Felidia is pregnant with their first child. The standard DNA tests have confirmed that it is, in fact, Prince Viloss' son." She cocked an elegant eyebrow.

Desirée kept her face calm. "That is good news. That system is was in grave danger of destabilizing if Viloss couldn't produce an heir."

"Your grasp of the political realities is very good," Cyraena complimented her, before taking another sip.

"Thank you." Desirée let the silence hang as she started in on her lunch; she was sworn to secrecy about how Prince Viloss' heir was actually conceived.

The slender Draco let the silence build for almost a minute before winking at the younger courtesan. Desirée's heart flipped, but then she deliberately slowed it down. Cyraena may have her suspicions but she'd get nothing from Desirée if she could help it.

"Also," Cyraena finally broke the silence, "Veronica was extraordinarily chipper this morning."

"Really?" Desirée took another bite of her lunch. "That's good to hear."

The Draco snorted with laughter. "Your involvement with the Royal House of Pathor may still be unconfirmed, but the entire Guild House knows who was in her bed last night."

Desirée winced. "I was hoping to keep that a secret."

Cyraena gave her a scornful look. "You still have a lot to learn, girl. Most of us with brains knew that Veronica was physically attracted to you even before you graduated.

"It's not unusual for relationships to develop between courtesans, " she continued. "But it's very rare to see one between a courtesan as senior as Veronica and one as junior as you. Be very careful: more than a few courtesans want to see you fall."

Desirée winced. "Don't worry; I've seen some of it already. Besides, Ssurhuk-T'at's handling my schedule from now on, so no one can accuse Veronica of helping my career."

"That helps, but not by much," Cyraena replied. "It's not simply what you're doing with Veronica that has this House in an uproar. Your career has really taken off, and that's raised the question of whether or not the Guild should stop recruiting Earth humans. Quite a few courtesans are concerned about their standing in the Guild, especially since your race is so responsive to the F'lyat Treatment.

Cyraena made a face; even that was sexy. "It's become a real double-edged sword. The F'lyat Treatment prolonged all our careers considerably, but it's also caused some serious disturbances, especially since the Treatment is more effective with some races than others. Many courtesans have become more conscious of seniority as a result, and they resent the fact that some races will have longer careers. Others are agitating that, if more humans are allowed to join the Guild and given the F'lyat Treatments, it might force other races out."

"I didn't realize the anti-human sentiment was so bad." Desirée fought an impulse to look around. "I'll be more careful."

"Do so." Cyraena softened. "You needn't worry about most of the courtesans here at Galos IV. Veronica's done such a good job as administrator that few would want to see her removed from her post. But you've come a long way in a very short time, and that's caused some jealousy among the Guild members here. You aren't the first lover Veronica's taken amongst the courtesans, and you won't be the last."

"I understand."

"Good." The Draco leaned forward. "Despite all the doom and gloom, I do have some good news for you: do you remember my guest who wanted a possible threesome?"

Desirée nodded.

"I forwarded your information to him, and he informed me that he'd like to get to know you better. "Cyraena smiled lazily. "He'll be booking an appointment with our office in the next two weeks."

"That's good to hear." Desirée was of two minds about entertaining this possible guest. A guest was a guest and she was very conscious of the debt she had accumulated as part of her education at the Guild School. It was also an opportunity to observe Cyraena -- one of the Galos IV House's top courtesans -- in action.

The only downside was this guest was a fellow Draco: a species that drank blood for sustenance, and pleasure. Desirée was under no illusions about what Cyraena was currently sipping from her jug. This guest would likely want to drink Desirée's blood, something that made her queasy.

"Excellent." Cyraena stopped and looked up. "Hey, look what the shorklüsh dragged in!" she called out.

Kalyani smiled down at Cyraena and Desirée. "Good morning to you, too. May I join you?" The young courtesan wasn't wearing her usual sari, but a 1950's style housedress with an hourglass cut and Peter Pan collar. Red pumps were on her feet and a pearl necklace decorated her throat. She was walking stiffly.

"Make yourself comfortable." Cyraena and Desirée waved her towards another Smart Chair. Kalyani placed her tray on the table. Wincing, she gingerly sat down.

"Did you have a rough morning?" Cyraena asked the young Indian woman sympathetically.

"Let me guess," Desirée guessed. "The Alien Abduction fantasy?"

Kalyani nodded tiredly. "Yes. Room 7419: that's the third time this week." Desirée winced in sympathy.

Cyraena laughed. "Six months ago, everyone wanted to know what was behind that door. Now that everyone's been strapped to the Box at least twice, they dread that room. But what's this about alien abduction?"

Desirée let Kalyani explain; she had a meal to finish. When she had entered the Guild School, Desirée had swiftly learned that the myths about aliens abducting humans for gruesome scientific experiments were just that. Only the Guild was currently allowed to visit Earth, and only under the utmost secrecy. However, many races in the Confederation had developed a childlike fascination with Earth and its popular media. The idea of abducting helpless humans and probing them had proved especially irrestistible to the Verlitti, the closest Confederation analogue to the Grays of human myth.

Now that two human courtesans and Pandora's Box -- the sex machine whose development Veronica Franco had funded, and was currently selling to the Guild -- were readily available, the Verlitti were clamouring to recreate that staple of Terran horror at the Galos IV Guildhouse.

"But I don't understand," Cyraena said when Kalyani was done. "The Verlitti reproduce asexually. What sort of pleasure do they get from this?"

"Oh, there's nothing sexual about it," Desirée answered, giving Kalyani a chance to eat. "But it's the funniest thing they've ever seen. You have no idea how hard it is to pretend to be tortured and terrified when twenty Verlitti are rolling on the floor, laughing at you."

"I can imagine." Cyraena was close to laughter herself. "I heard that Veronica taped some of the sessions and is selling them to the Verlitti."

"They have been very popular," Kalyani said, swallowing. "And she was kind enough to give us a generous percentage of the profits."

"As well she should," Cyraena said dryly. "That must make it easier."

Desirée and Kalyani nodded. The money they received was automatically put towards paying down their student debt and, while it was still a drop in the proverbial bucket, anything helped. Luckily, neither of the two women had to pay any interest on the debt while they were still working in the Guild House.

"That does make it easier," Desirée allowed, "although it's not one of our favourite bookings, especially when they bring out . . ." Desirée looked at Kalyani, "the anal probe!" the two women said together.

Cyraena shuddered. Just then, a green light flashed on Desirée's UTD, signaling an incoming call. She raised a finger to the other women, and mentally accepted the call.

"Hello, Desirée." Ssurhuk-T'at was calling her from his office. "Are you alone?"

"I'm just finishing up my lunch," she told the froglike alien. "Cyraena and Kalyani are with me."

All right." He tapped a green finger against his chin. "Report to my office as soon as you can. And please, be discreet." She could see the worry in his three eyes.

"Understood. Is," she checked the chronometer at the corner of her display, "ten minutes acceptable?"

"Make it seven. Ssurhuk-T'at out."

"Over and out." She killed the line. "Sorry to leave you like this, but duty calls." She picked up her tray. "See you later."

"Likewise," Cyraena dimpled at her. "And remember what I told you." Kalyani smiled up at Desirée but frowned when the Draco's comment registered.

"Will do." Desirée popped her tray into the nearest disposal bin and hurried out of the cafeteria, feeling the stares at her back.

* * *

She was still on her way to Ssurhuk-T'at's office when her UTD pinged again. She was surprised to see him on the other end of the line.

"I should be at your office in less than five minutes, sir," she quickly told the alien. "I apologize if I'm late."

"I'm not concerned about that," the senior courtesan waved away her apology. "Are you alone?"

"Yes, sir." The lift opened. She stepped in, making sure there was no one else in the elevator. The door closed and Desirée selected the 204th floor.

"Good," Ssurhuk-T'at said. His 3 eyes were wide with worry behind his glasses. "Once again, I'd like to remind you that you are allowed by Guild Statute to turn down any guest that you don't wish to entertain."

"Are you recommending that I waive that right, sir?" Again, she privately added.

The tall alien smiled nervously. "No, but I'm earnestly requesting that you do so. War Lord Turok of the Leonorilla is here, and he's requesting the services of a Guild courtesan. He's invoking a Level 5 discretion."

Desirée blinked. Level 5 was the highest standard level of discretion that the Guild could ordinarily offer. A guest's visit was entered into the Guild Log, but the door locked, the room was free of electronic devices and no one was allowed to monitor the action, either visually or by Desirée's UTD.

Crown Prince Viloss' visit was actually considered a Black Ops, a level apart from the usual discretionary provisions the Guild placed around its members and their guests. Officially, the Prince and his wife had never even been seen near the Guild.

"When did Turok become a War Lord?"Desirée asked the question to give herself a chance to marshal her thoughts.

"He attained the position just this month," Ssurhuk-T'at replied. "There are only three War Lords among the Leonorilla, and he's the youngest to ever achieve that rank. Needless to say, he didn't get there by being meek and mild-mannered."

"Do you know what he wants from me?"

He shook his head. "I have no idea, and that worries me. He's given his word that he will not deliberately hurt you but, given the Leonorilla's size and strength, there is still a large element of risk. If he wasn't a War Lord, I would have automatically turned him down on your behalf, but his position and influence are simply too great."

"So why me?" Desirée eyed the digital readout; it flashed '158.'

"Honestly?" the senior Courtesan winced. "No one else with the required security clearances will touch this one with a forcebeam generator. You're my last hope."

"Does it mean I at least get the appropriate bonuses?"

"Oh believe me, you will, and then some!" the three-eyed alien said emphatically. "I'll back you in front of the Guild Council if I have to."

Desirée nodded sympathetically, sensing the fear behind Ssurhuk-T'at's words. Even dealing with the Leonorilla on official channels was enough to frighten the usually unflappable courtesan. "Will the usual security precautions be in place?"

"We'll do what we can but I'm sorry: you're truly on your own with this one. "He chuckled dryly. "On the plus side, once word gets out none of the other courtesans will ever accuse you of using your influence with Veronica to get more cushy assignments."

"That's a comforting thought." Just then the elevator pinged, letting her know she was reaching Floor 205. "I'm here. I'll see you soon. Desirée Tanner out."

Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and told the butterflies in her belly to stop fussing. She was a Guild Courtesan; she could handle this.

***

"War Lord," Ssurhuk-T'at bowed deeply as they entered the room, "allow me to introduce Guild Courtesan Desirée Tanner. Courtesan Tanner, this is War Lord Turok."

Desirée fought the urge to run from the room. If a lion and a mountain gorilla had a baby and raised it on a diet of raw meat and steroids, it wouldn't come close to matching the monstrosity that loomed over her. Muscles bunched and bulged under Turok's midnight pelt and his canines were longer than Desirée's hand. She could see long, ragged scars cris-crossing his face and body. Red rank tattoos were visible underneath his scarred skin, covering his entire body, and he had a marriage brand on his left shoulder. Typically for a Leonorilla, he was naked; his massive penis hung limply between his muscled thighs.

"Greetings, my lord." She barely hid the quaver in her voice. "How may I entertain you?"

"A tender morsel," Turok leered. "She will serve my purpose. Leave us."

"My lord," Ssurhuk-T' at began, "I hope you realize--"

Turok growled in the back of his throat, the rumble filling the office. Ssurhuk-T' at paled, bowing quickly. He stepped close to Desirée, passing her a key card. "This card will activate the elevator behind the opposite door, which will take you directly to the room," he murmured quickly. "Good luck." He bowed again and hurriedly backed through the door, which irised closed behind him.

Turok's growl subsided. His yellow, slitted eyes glared at Desirée for several seconds. She lifted her chin, refusing to break his gaze. They stayed like that for nearly a minute.

"Are you afraid, little one?" Turok finally growled.

"Should I be?" she replied, still staring at him.

His lip twitched in what could have been a smile. "Follow my orders and you will do well. Let's go."

She nodded, sidling past him in order to get to the opposite door. He watched her closely, his fangs gleaming in the bright light. As she waved the key card over the elevator controls, she could feel his hot breath on the back of her neck and the musky heat of his fur.

The elevator door slid open and Desirée walked inside, stepping aside so she could reach the control panel. The lift car creaked as the floor took the Leonorilla's weight; he loomed over her, his breath ruffling her hair every time he exhaled. He stood close to her, making her acutely aware of his predator's scent.

The sliding doors closed and the elevator slid smoothly down its shaft. She tried not to think about his fangs, less than five inches from her right ear, his yellow eyes still glaring down at her. His jaws were big enough that he could literally bite her head from her body if he so chose. She could see his penis slowly rise, swelling to an almost unimaginable girth. She tried not to shudder: there was no way she could take his monstrous cock.

The elevator pinged; the doors silently slid open to reveal one of the larger private entertainment rooms in the Guild complex.

"After you, my lord." Desirée was profoundly grateful that her voice didn't catch in her throat. After a few seconds of staring at her, Turok grunted and stepped into the room. The elevator car noticeably lifted once free of his weight. Trying desperately to control her racing pulse, Desirée walked out of the elevator, the doors closing with grim finality behind her. She was now locked in a private room with one of the most efficient killers in the known galaxy, with no one to help her should he choose to end her life. She tried to swallow as discreetly as possible.

Turok whirled at the sound, glaring at her. She somehow resisted the urge to gulp as she stared back.

He grinned, showing his long fangs. "Don't try to hide your fear, little one. You stink of it." He leaned closer to her. "You will do exactly as I tell you. Failure to carry out my orders will prove . . . unwise. Do you understand this?"

"Y-yes, my lord."

"Excellent." He turned away from her and stalked towards the cabinets in the far wall, that held items for those guests who preferred more . . . exotic entertainments. "Remove your clothes."

Desirée cleared her throat. "All of them, my lord?"

He whirled around, his lips peeling back from his teeth. She tried not to flinch as he opened his jaws. He regarded her for a second, then his eyes flicked down to her red pumps. "Your shoes," he growled. "Leave them on."

"Yes, my lord." She quickly slid out of her short-sleeved Guild dress, folding it neatly on the floor. Her push-up bra and thong swiftly followed. She stepped away from her clothes, trying not to wonder if this would be the last time she would ever wear Guild colours. She shivered, even though she wasn't cold, and her palms were slick with sweat.

Her mouth dried up when she saw what Turok held in his claws.

"These force binders," he demanded, "how highly are they rated?"

"I-I believe they can withstand up to 200 metric tons of pressure, my lord." She could feel the blood leaving her face as she saw what else he was bringing out of the cabinet.

Turok eyed them dismissively, then sniffed. "I suppose they'll have to do." He turned back towards her. "You understand your role here today?"

For a second, Desirée could only gape at him.

***

"Bad kitty! Bad kitty!" The riding crop cracked across Turok's sensitive muzzle. The massive Leonorilla yowled, his muscles bunching as he fought to get out of the force binders. Desirée heard the rising buzz; the high-tech cuffs battling to maintain their grip on the beast's wrists and ankles. He lay on the massive bed, bound so tightly that there was no way he could get loose. The dark bruises showed against his paws where she had ground the heel of her pumps into his flesh. She could see his monstrous cock grow even larger and darker, the black tip gleaming.

"You will lick me properly, kitty, or shall I punish you again?" She dropped the crop, gripped his mane and pulled hard. "Answer me!"

"Never," he snarled hoarsely.

"Then you leave me no choice." She pressed a button on the remote in her left hand. A 15" dildo, shoved into Turok's anus, delivered an electric current through his bowels. The massive Leonorilla screamed in agony, arching his back. She held the button for 10 seconds.

Inwardly, Desirée quailed at the amount of abuse his body was taking. She wasn't naturally a dominatrix but it was clear Turok was becoming more aroused by the pain she was inflicting on him. And her orders were clear.

"Well?" she demanded. "Are you going to be a good kitty?"

"Y-yes, mistress,"he groaned. "No more. Please . . . no more."

Once again, she gripped his mane, opening her thighs so that her pussy was right above his face. "Then lick it . . . and do it right this time!"

His long pink tongue came out, licking her already slick channel, flicking her clit. Desirée gasped and bit her lip: his tongue was surprisingly soft and velvety as it burrowed its way around her pussy. She could feel the hairs on her skin rise from the pleasure.