Serving in the VSO

The second week was a repeat of the first with additional classes in how to perform a striptease and the basics of pole dancing. The final exam tested us on our seductiveness, our maturity, endurance and poise. We had to do three guys and three women in three hours and satisfy all of them. Grading was not on a curve. I finished just three points behind my rival and now good friend, Any. The destinations of the rest of the class were announced first. Most of the girls did very well except for the class clown, she got herself assigned to a brothel in Bismark, North Dakota, a place it would be hard to move up from and where the males were noted for their ugliness. Most of the rest went to happening places like New Orleans, and New York City, or Chicago.

"66790235721, 123397521488, as the top finishers in your class you two have earned a plumb assignment for your first few months. A collection of internet entrepreneurs is taking the cream of this and other schools for a six month yacht trip around the world. You and other girls from this school have been placed on six month contracts. When the assignment ends we will place you somewhere else. If we get good reports from you we will give you a another plum assignment and take two months off your term of service. A bad report means a crappy assignment and two month ADDED to your term of service. You have to please the nerds and their girlfriends and associates. There will be stops around the world where some of them will give lectures and workshops. In places where slavery is legal you may even get to go ashore. We have taken the liberty of packing each of you a small case with all of your essentials. The nerds want new girls and a variety of girls. I suspect that they will be relatively easy to please."

Amy and I fairly waltzed on air the rest of the day. We ate lunch and were allowed a bit extra dessert. We were issued very short, lavender sex worker dresses. They fell to just past the swell of our derrieres and fell open in front to expose every bit of the top of of our breasts. Under them we wore tiny thongs I was better endowed than Amy yet she had a kind of inner light that made her seem to me far more desirable. She would be a big hit on the yacht, I knew that without a scintilla of doubt. We were joined by a statuesque brunette, a striking red head, a petite Pilipino, and buxom Latina.They had been in other classes of the Camp Succubus we had passed in the halls but had not been permitted to speak to each other. Ordinarily I'm not attracted to girls but the redhead really turned me on. Abstractly I hoped that she and I would be assigned some intimate time together. We all carried our medium sized valises. Inside was lots of sunscreen, a micro bikini, some nice costume jewelry, some truly awe inspiring nightwear, a little black dress with stockings heels and panties to match. All of it fit neatly together inside the case like a jig saw puzzle.

The internet barons would be sending a helicopter to ferry us to the yacht sometime after dark. Two professional Madames were already on board the yacht to make sure that the company was always properly compensated and that VSO regulations were scrupulously obeyed. Our first day off since our induction. We would get one day a month off once we entered service. We spent the day watching TV playing board games and talking about what the likely expectations of future hosts. Up close I realized that the red head was very desirable indeed. Emboldened, I places one of my hands on her thigh as we played Apples to Apples, she made no move to brush my hand away, indeed, a wan smile briefly crossed her lips.

The helicopter flight to the yacht was lots of fun. Amy and I held hands to give each other moral support. We thrilled to the sight of the the clear blue sky, the dazzling scenery of the gulf coast, and the enticing lines of the huge yacht. As we stepped off the copter, trying to prevent the wind from elevating our short skirts. We heard a band playing. The nerds had spared no expense for this trip.

There was a welcoming banner and a uniformed man waiting to greet us. We knew VSO members joined ourselves with the ranks of the VSO workers who had preceded us. Ours was the very last scheduled helicopter. Next to the uniformed man was a Madame we recognized from the school. She was dressed neatly and fashionably, as befitting her position. Beyond these two we spied the nerds we would be working for. There were very few women. Of the group, a scattered few wore suits or nice clothing, the rest were dressed for a day at the beach, in shorts, bathing suits and sandals. Naturally, the flabby ones, who most needed to cover up, were the most likely to be shirtless. None of them looked liked ogres but some of them appeared very kinky indeed. Several I found quite handsome, I've always had a soft spot for guys who were a bit, jut a bit mind you, geeky. Wordlessly our two groups appraised each other.

Once the helicopter departed and calm returned to the decks the man in the uniform began to speak.

"Welcome ladies, I am Captain Hopcroft, I am in charge of this vessel. I want to thank you in advance for joining our soiree. I also want to remind you that if you feel that the rules regarding how you are to be treated are violated, do not hesitate to contact the nearest Madame or member of the crew. However, having spent the last few days with this assembly of men and women, I am sure that they are all gentlemen and gentlewomen."

After Captain Hopcroft finished speaking, the Madame stated the obvious to us. Boring doesn't begin to describe her spiel, literally every word had been said to us just before we entered our helicopter. A third man appeared, he wore his hair a bit longer than was custom and casual yet neat clothing, he was rather handsome, for an older guy.

"Welcome ladies, I am Mark Henson, I represent the corporations that have billed this cruise. I want to echo our fine captain's words as to how you are treated. Momentary, members of the crew will be taking your luggage and showing you to your berths, Not that you will be spending a lot of time there." he laughed and continued. "Immediately after that we request the honor of your company for wine and refreshments on the main deck so we can all get to know each other."

I was led by a purser to a tiny cabin with bunk beds and few amenities. At least it had a porthole so we could tell when it was daytime. My bunkmate, 179086754270, AKA Flo, was a tall brunette from a sex worker school in Texas. She had huge tits and legs that I envied. I claimed the top bunk and stowed my gear in one of the two dressers provided. We took turns freshening up in the microscopic bathroom, wished each other luck and made our way topside.

By the time all of the VSO workers hit the promenade deck, the slanting sun was early in the process of making a spectacular sunset. When prompted, I opted for a glass of Champaign over wine. The band was now playing late twentieth century rock and roll, mixed with a few contemporary hits. The sweet music, and the enormity of what I was about to do sent a tingle down my spine. We had been briefed that there were fewer VSO workers, than nerds on this trip. We would be expected to double up or tag team when necessary. We were also not allowed to be monopolized by any one individual, Repeat business was fine but we had to have some variety. Nobody wanted to deal with a VSO worker getting too attached to a client or vice versa, especially on their first assignment.

We strutted our stuff and tried to spark interest in ourselves. Getting the nerds interested was a really simple task. Before long I had set my eyes on a guy who looked vaguely like the guy I took home on the eve of my induction. The nice sized bulge in his pants indicated that this guy's equipment was not likely to go AWOL. We chatted a bit. I made the initial mistake of asking him about his work. After the torrent of jargon and nerd-speak has ceased its tumult in my ears I asked him about himself and made small talk about sports and current events. In no time he was eating out of my hand. We danced a bit, drank a bit. To this day I can still remember his unusual first name of Thaddeus. The alcohol made Thad bold. He led me to a dim alcove and asked politely to see my tits. I complied with his request and told him,

"Now how about you take me to your cabin and show me your joy stick?"

Compared to mine, his cabin was enormous. As I seductively peeled off my scant attire and undressed him as erotically as possible, I asked him what he wanted. I sweetly pointed out that i was a working girl and needed to be back on deck in two hours unless he was willing to spring for the entire night, in which case I would have to relay a message to a Madame, for her approval.

It amazed me how matter of fact our conversation on the issue was. We had been told that the tact and skill in discussing these matters was what separated the competent sex worker from the elite sex worker. I had excelled in the classroom, but until I had actually applied the skills I had feared that my cool demeanor would remain an academic exercise. After I stifled my fears it was as easy as falling off a log.

Every sex worker remembers her first. Fortunately for me Thaddeus is a good memory. Despite the nature of my work, he was not entirely selfish, nor did he ask for anything fancy, After I gave him a terrific session of fellatio he returned the favor. I was delighted to find that he was adept at eating pussy. When Thaddeus entered me, he did it in a gentlemanly manner. Later guys would be like jack hammers or bucking broncos, he made me feel like Goldilocks, he was just right. My orgasm was very nice indeed. An hour and a half later I was back in my clothes heading for round two. Thaddeus smiled at me and waved as I left. My last image; him opening a graphic novel and pulling the covers up to his neck.

The promenade deck was far less populated when I returned. I hefted a small glass of wine and made a circuit. Before long I was being chatted up by a slightly older man. Doug was supervisor in one of the tech companies. He was in reasonable shape, aside from a bit of a gut. His buzz cut made him look like he had just stepped out of a documentary about NASA's Apollo program. Doug looked just like one of the engineers sitting behind those big boards. He decided that I needed a name so he called me Mary. Used to getting his way and ordering people around, he informed me in very straightforward and unvarnished way exactly what he expected of me. On just my second professional excursion I had met one of the anal retentive list makers that drain every bit of romance from this job.

I took his hand and followed him to his surprisingly smallish cabin. It was all very clinical as I gave him a blow job and swallowed. I rested in his doughy arms and let him stroke and kiss me until his equipment recharged, then I gave him anal. Normally I adore Anal, but Doug made it as exciting as a pap smear. Once he came a second time he pulled away from me, collapsed on the bed, belched loudly, farted a couple of times and fell into a deep slumber. It was the most passionless and sterile sex I had even had. Not even some of the losers recruited for us to practice on at Camp Succubus were as bad.

Proud of myself for holding it together, I put my clothes on again and made my way VERY slowly back to the promenade deck. It was almost deserted. The band had been replaced by a computer and a karaoke machine. A drunk was singing "Piano Man" very badly. There was so little action that I asked the lead Madame, Ivory if I could turn in.

Ivory was seated at a table with Mark Henson. Instantly I deduced that the two were in a relationship. I caught a hold of myself and did not stare or gape like a stuck fish. Even so my mind was contemplating what that prim and proper Madame looked like under all of her expensive clothing. At Camp Succubus, the Madames had their own dining, shower and exercise facilities and they were NEVER less than impeccably dressed in our presence. I was polite to a fault as I recounted my exploits for the night. She complimented me on understanding my job so thoroughly and completely from the get go.

"As a reward for being so conscientious, 123397521488 you may turn in. Be sure that you are ready for duty at eight thirty A.M. Tomorrow. You are also exempted from the remedial lecture at dawn. Unfortunately I have received more bad reports than I should have."

I curtsied to the Madame and made my way back to my cabin. I set the alarm and quickly prepared for sleep The bed atop the short ladder felt like heaven. As I stared into the darkness of my cabin, the events of the past month unspooled before my eyes. I recalled the lousy jobs and my general dissatisfaction of not so long ago. This night had gone better than I had even dared to hope, not even the boorish behavior of Doug could diminish the glow I felt from a job well done. Prissy Madame Ivory, despite her haughty manner, could tell that I was a natural at this job. For the first time in my life I felt fulfilled and capable.

As my eyes closed as that first evening slipped into early morning,I realized that I had found a home in the VSO. I realized that I could make a life in the Organization. I resolved that after my five years were over I would be the youngest Madame in the history of Camp Succubus. My dreams were heavenly.