The Ballad of Decker Crane Ch. 01

He and Tag got along. Still, anyone could get annoyed when huge predators escaped to kill and fuck their livestock. Decker owed him more than just the price to replace the animals and fix the hole.

Tag glanced at him and nodded. "It's good, Deck."

"Come around for a drink soon," Decker said, rising and putting on his hat.

"I'll bring a bottle of wine."

"Sure." Decker left, turning his horse toward the green in the distance past barren plains, always a relief to him. He had plans tonight.

Theo Cochrain, his other neighbor, ran the Red Door, the most exclusive whorehouse on the frontier planets. It was certified, the whores licensed. They were given medical care, unlike the rest of the frontier. They took contraceptives that stopped a woman's cycles. Male and female and in between, they kept their own money, paying the house a percentage.

Certification of the whorehouses was regulated by Prime Central in-system. Prime allowed houses of ill repute on the frontier because they were profitable, Prime taking its cut. Whorehouses were illegal in-system. They were illegal even in mid-system, which didn't stop the whoring, of course. It just meant those whores didn't have Prime's protection. Prime wanted its citizens going far away to the frontier to do their nastiness, but they also didn't want its citizens bringing back diseases.

As a result, the only people who got rich in the frontier planets were the whores. A certified whore could come through for a few years, clients coming out to the frontier from Prime with money to spend. After that, she--or sometimes he--moved on, often escaping the mid-system factories and mines they'd come from. They took their families and went in-system with all that money and lived somewhere on the edge of Prime, where it was decently terraformed with clean water and air.

At the Red Door, famous throughout the frontier planets, they were the prettiest whores, wave after wave, mostly young women from mid-system who'd come to the frontier to get savings. Men in the frontier planets would give their pay or profits to be able to ride a beautiful woman. Most whores wanted out as soon as they could, and Decker was certainly always happy to donate to the cause. But it was the rich men who coming from Prime to play with pretty forbidden mid-system flesh that caused money to flow through the Red Door like a river.

On Sur, the Red Door was the only place to get a woman, unless you wanted to go to the whorehouse in town. The Crawling Kitty had a considerably less attractive selection. Those women fucked men day and night and they didn't leave.

Still, even they made a good enough living. Men on Sur would compete for the possibility of marrying a prostitute looking to retire, courting her aggressively, regardless of her age or whether or not she was pretty. None of that mattered, considering the prospect of having a soft woman in your bed you could screw when you wanted. Any woman could smell sweet in the dark, feel soft between her legs. Nipples and those sweet thighs.

Decker arrived home, walking onto his front porch. His place was bigger and newer. It had four small bedrooms, each with a bathroom, although he used one for storage. There was a separate room for a kitchen past the generous main room, which had a bar. There was a table there for eating and too many chairs. They'd come with the place, so he'd kept them. The house, as well as a barn and two outbuildings, were set on a huge chunk of unspoiled land. Decker owned all of it.

Most of all, there were living things everywhere around his cabin, flora and fauna, clean rivers and pretty meadows. Atmosphere and water filters ran ceaselessly on the borders. He could never live where Tag did, not even for a small time. He'd want to eat his pistol every time he looked out the window. He hadn't escaped the mines of mid-system to become a scratch farmer like Tag. Fuck that.

Pouring a drink to wash away the wine, the mirror over the bar showed a young man with a strong jaw, well made and big, with medium-length dark brown hair. His hat sat next to him on the counter. His expression was closed and wary, his mouth tight. A scar bisected his lip and he had alert eyes under heavy brows. The beginnings of a beard darkened his jaw.

An air transport was required for getting across the briken enclosure to the Red Door, which bordered Cochrain's lands. Decker knew his neighbor appreciated the brikens. They ensured the Red Door's security on that side. Nobody was stupid enough to go into the briken enclosure. At least, not that Decker knew. If they did, they'd gotten eaten.

Decker didn't have an air transport because, big as his land was, he could get anywhere he needed to on a horse. Air transports were expensive. He went into the briken enclosure regularly, images on his sat-reader telling him if Bane and his herd were close.

So, he made the call and the Red Door transport picked him up. The Red Door was where all transports to Sur came in and out, having the only interplanet transport bay. When it came, the men inside the transport, from town, were interested to see the forest, chattering about the brikens. Decker watched the green and lush landscape of the briken enclosure get more sparse. It yielded abruptly to terrible mining scars, the land made sterile by the safron extraction process. This was what most of the rest of Sur looked like, including the town. It was a barren place, a uniform colorless horizon.

Two of the men on the transport fell into meaningless boasting. A third man joined in and then tried to make conversation with Decker, who ignored him. He wasn't here to socialize with men. He saw them all the time.

They arrived at the Red Door, a single ornate structure on a stripped plain of devastation with a modern transport dock stuck on it like they'd thought of it later. Exiting, Decker passed under the figurehead, a statue of a nude woman looming over the entrance of the three-story building.

The entrance was a huge red door. It made sense, if you thought about it. Inside, the rooms in the whorehouse were opulent, gold metal walls reflecting silk and precious metals. The surfaces were covered in velvet cushions and the floors in patterned rugs. Everything was drowning in cloth. For locals, a reasonable entrance fee would get you into the arcade. You paid by time. Anyone considered too drunk was locked in the tank until closing, but they weren't charged for it. Pornographic imagery was projected onto the walls with no sound.

The arcade was straightforward. Down a long hall, there were holes in the wall from which the bottom halves of women and a few men emerged. The male whores mostly serviced men from Prime. The frontier had plenty of cock and ass and men looking for substitute pleasure. Decker had spent his early years here defending himself from them.

Some whores were on their backs, some on knee ledges on their bellies. There was lube. Either way, a camera was pointed at the whores' faces on the other side of the wall. Their images were then projected onto screens above the hole. There were long curtains to pull closed if a man wanted privacy.

For the whores, the arcade was their first job after selling their virginities for a considerable sum, if they still had them. Prime men would pay well for that, which was a mystery to Decker. He'd certainly never missed it.

Most whores started in the arcade and worked their way up. It broke them in and got them ready for what was coming. You could tell the whores currently getting fucked by the way they moved on the screens, their tits jiggling if they were on their backs. By the looks on their faces. After a few uses, a woman was traded out for another. There was no shortage of women at the Red Door, and they would begin making good money at the next level.

The arcade was for the locals, but there were always some people who would come from in-system just for the arcade. The man Decker was watching was one of those. He was a fancy Prime asshole, the clothing and the jewelry and the tech. He'd stopped at a hole. Onscreen, a young dark-haired mid-system beauty was on her back, her hair spilling around her, red lips and black eyeliner.

Taking her knees in his hands, he spread her, looking at her pussy, and then raised her platform. On the screen, the woman became alert, unable to see him.

She startled and grimaced as his hand raised and he smacked her pussy. He did it again, spreading her this time, looking at the video feed of her face, her cry silent, no audio. If the guy got carried away, they'd escort him off the property. But he was a rich Prime client. They'd want her to please him if she could. He began opening his pants, pausing to throw the curtain behind him closed. After that, the only thing still showing was her face. She cried out again and then she was moving up and down sharply, her tits jiggling.

The three men who'd been on the transport with Decker, local men, went straight through the arcade toward a room to the left. When one of them opened the door, raucous laughter and music came spilling out, light and colors swirling. It was the dance hall. Inside, the whores would be performing, socializing with clients, everything light and fun. There'd be music and singing. There'd be some groping and alcoves to pull a pretty whore into if she were willing to take you as a client. Mostly, it was a way to talk to a woman, to spend time looking at her and smelling her and listening to her voice. Decker didn't mind that part, but he didn't have the patience for the noise and courting and the other men.

After that was the bar, tables where men sprawled in semi-darkness. The liquor was good and the floor was mirrored. The women didn't wear undergarments as they served drinks, talking with the customers, who groped them. Cochrain's men kept an eye on things. Decker ordered, a woman with bare breasts rimmed in red paint serving him, her nipple touching his arm when she leaned.

Decker watched as in a corner, in a glass box, two women bathed each other, both nude, bubbles everywhere and steam and wet nude female flesh. The first woman knelt, sucking the other one's pink nipple, the second leaning back and closing her eyes. Her legs opened to the woman's graceful fingers, soap everywhere glistening.

The next room required a new entrance fee, automatically recorded as soon as he was done with his drink and passed through the door. Decker didn't mind paying. Pleasantly buzzed, his body tense, he found a spot, sitting on the floor and getting comfortable. There were cushions around an oval table with a rotating center.

Through the next arch was the famous Long Red Hall. Decker had been once, but he hadn't found it better than what was here for him, and not worth the extra expense. The long corridor was for off-world clientele, in-system Prime assholes. It housed the prettiest and most practiced whores almost done with their time here. On each door was a short vid of the whore inside, the light indicating whether or not she was free to receive a client.

A client would ring the bell at the door and the whore would use a face search for information the patron had provided and decide whether or not to open it. A wealthy client could also make special requests by speaking to the proprietor, Leo Cochrain, an oily little bastard.

A woman came and got on her knees beside him, naked. They were all pretty.

"What's your name?" he said.

"Aurora. The other girls said you were terribly handsome," she said, smiling at him. "Do you want to talk first?"

Decker didn't bother answering. If he'd wanted conversation, he would have gone to the Dance Hall. He reached out and touched her breast, enjoying the soft firmness, squeezing her nipple. By sitting at the cushions and not the tables, he hadn't indicated any particular woman in the room, so the super had chosen this one for him. Sally knew him by now. Well, she knew this. Decker sat upright and pushed her on her back, spreading her legs and running his hands on her spread thighs, enjoying her softness. He made his way in and then his fingers cupped her and pressed.

When she was ready, he worked through the complication of flesh above. He found her clitoris, stroking and pressing idly as he signaled and another drink came.

Not far, a man was sitting across from a pretty blonde in elegant clothing, her hair upswept, jewelry and face paint, a feather in her tilted hat. But the table in front of him was transparent, and she was naked from the waist down, her legs spread. His fingers were deep in her cunt as they spoke.

Decker always let Sally choose for him. She was good at her job. An older woman, she never gave Decker the same whore twice. Decker didn't let himself get attached like some men. Any woman here would leave anyway. He also didn't pretend intimacy where there wasn't any. He was here for sex with a pretty woman for his pleasure. That was the beginning and end of it.

His eyes shifted to the woman he was now fingering. He felt her getting wetter, her mouth parting. Light brown hair and a red mouth. Grabbing her, he turned her over his knee, trapping her with one arm and spreading her legs. She was face down in the cushions and couldn't move. He began again from behind, pressing her clitoris. He sank his fingers into her entrance. Her hips were moving and she spread more for him.

She was sweet enough. Decker wasn't in any hurry, enjoying the sight and smell of a pretty young pussy. By the time he was ready to release her, she was slick and squirming. He let her go. She sat up, turning around, her face pink, breathing fast. She backed off of him and turned to sit beside him, Decker watching the show in the center of the table, his cock hard.

A woman was tied spread-eagled on her belly. She had a nice plump butt, her pussy in the setting of her round cheeks. A man came with a short cane and began striking her ass, the woman crying out. She was one of the more experienced whores, trained for this. Decker had a beautiful view of the slit and pouch of her pussy and then of her face not much later as the caning continued.

He looked at the woman he'd been given and spoke. "Don't come until I say you can. Take my pants off."

She reached, making it last, pulled his pants down and off, her ass in the air and her tits dragging on him.

"Turn and face away from me and take me," he said. "Squat and keep your hands on your thighs. Don't touch your knees to the floor."

It was difficult for her to line up, her back to him, his legs stretched out. She reached behind herself for his cock. On her heels, she kept her balance. Her thighs were shaking. It felt good to him, her muscles clenching around him as she slid down his length, unable to slow herself. She finally had all of him. He didn't thrust, which would upend her, but he sat up, his hands coming around her without supporting her and his fingers going to her nipples. He rubbed and plucked.

She made a sound, concentrating on staying upright as he pinched now. The woman in the center rotated around again, her ass a gorgeous pink color and lines showing across her cheeks. Between her legs was glistening.

Decker's fingers went to the pussy of the woman in front of him. "Move your ass."

She began bouncing on him, her tits following. Her clit was distended now, perfect for stroking. He rolled a nipple, watching her push his cock in and out of herself, tugging her clitoris lightly. She made a deep sound.

"No," he reminded her, tugging. With a finger on each side, he stroked the small shaft.

She strained around him and tried to relax, voicing it. Her clitoris was a hard slippery nub under his fingers, her pussy swollen as she worked his cock. He began to rub fast, polishing it.

"Don't," she panted. "I can't."

"No," he warned her again.

"Please stop. I'm going to--"

She didn't have the control of the more experienced prostitutes who had their own rooms. It was probably why Sally had given her to him. They were still training in this room. The super knew him and what he tended toward. He was always happy to help and she knew it.

The woman was quiet and then she strained and came on him, her cries high and her thighs shivering. Tilting, her bouncing became long strokes, one hand coming down as she satisfied herself on his cock. She finally fell forward, leaning on both hands, one knee coming down. Her hips humped him, shivering through the last of her pleasure. She was panting.

He traced down her spine. "Now I'll have to think of something to punish you," he said softly.

"I couldn't--"

He sat up, pulling her across his lap again, his hand going to her ass, rubbing. She was breathing fast. He delivered the blows quickly, sharp smacks, watching her jiggle. It did turn him on to spank a woman. After a time, she began to cry out, her ass red.

He stopped, releasing her. "Lie down facing me, upside down. Suck me."

She looked relieved and lay down, inverting herself and scooting, her head pointed toward his feet. He tilted toward her, raising his far leg as she nuzzling his crotch, her cheek bumping against his hard cock. Her mouth was warm and soft, a nice angle toward her throat, but he was big. He let her control it. Pulling her knee, he turned her lower half so she was on her back. He spread her legs wide. His cock was still in her mouth.

He signaled, a woman coming and leaning in, putting her ear by his mouth. In a moment, she returned and handed him what he'd asked for with a smile, disappearing.

The woman between his legs was talented enough with her mouth. He wanted to thrust now. He looked at her pussy as she swallowed around him, breathing. Reaching, he spread her pussy lips and turned the vibrator on, applying it not directly but to the area around her clitoris. "You like to come so much," he muttered.

She whimpered. He got it closer and she began moving her hips, humping his fingers. Her mouth had slowed.

He looked at her. "Pay attention."

She took him again in her throat, returning to her task as he held it against the tip. She stopped sucking him as she reached for her pleasure again, pulsing, moving to touch it delicately with her clitoris, enjoying herself. She was panting around his cock, about to come, but he withdrew it.

"Go on, now," he said softly.

With a small frustrated sound, she returned to take him deep in her throat. He applied the vibrator again and she whined. His other fingers went into her pussy. The woman was struggling to keep up. He held the vibrator to her, pulling it away and varying the touching, finger-fucking her. Rubbing that spot. She was getting sloppy all over his cock, trying harder. He held the vibrator against her and she went still, shivering, and made a sharp noise.

He withdrew it, Decker thrusting. Reaching with one hand, he tugged her nipple. She cried out around his cock and her little pussy began seeking the instrument, her clitoris distended.

"Don't you fucking move," he said, applying it again. "Make me come."

Now she was committed. She gagged and still didn't stop, writhing and panting. Pausing to breathe, she made a deep sound of distress when he withdrew the vibrator. Her noises made him surge in her mouth. That was good. He wedged the vibrator, his fingers going deep into her pussy. She wailed briefly. Her body jerked, getting sweaty, a constant whining. She was going to come, grunting lightly.

He withdrew it and leaned down, grabbing her hair and pulled her off of himself. She came up with spit, her mouth swollen and her eyes heavy, panting. He studied her and released her, returning to her pussy, spreading her. She was seeking his cock again with her mouth.

"Lick me," he said, pressing the vibrator very lightly against the tip of her clit and then right under the hood.

What followed was fine with him, her efforts to persuade him feeling good. He applied the vibrator with delicate touches. She jerked every time. He held it on the area, pressing a little. Then he left it there, turning it up.