The Naughty Nymph Ch. 02

Thank you so much for the encouraging comments, it means a lot that there are people out there who appreciate my efforts!

In the last chapter, Cassidy and Sylvie worked their first day together at the Nymph and now it's time to introduce a few more characters and their respective backstories. And even though Cassidy has left her days of crime behind her, she still manages to get herself into quite a bit of trouble.

Rashid

Running a brothel without security was not a good idea, so I decided to find a replacement for Wally as soon as possible. There were plenty of guys who would jump at the opportunity -- after all, seeing pretty girls having sex all day was a powerful incentive -- but I was looking for a recommendation from someone I trusted.

As luck would have it, I heard that an old colleague of mine was on Zesta as well, so I decided to look him up. We met in a quiet corner of a cafe off the lower promenade with an impressive view of the shipyard.

"Rashid, my friend!" I said and gave him a big hug. "Long time no see."

He seemed relaxed and damn, he looked handsome as ever -- tall and muscular, with disheveled black hair and a hell of a beard.

"Hey, beautiful!" he said. "So it's true, you're done running spec ops for George?"

"Yes, I'm out. Twelve years, that's enough. I've had my fair share of near misses, there's no point in pushing my luck."

"My thoughts exactly," he said. "We had a wild time, but when you're going on forty, it's time to hang up your gun or they'll bury you with it."

We ordered coffee and some cheesecake before I got to the point.

"Hey, you're from around these parts. I was wondering if you maybe have a friend or an acquaintance who'd be interested in running security for a small brothel. Someone reliable who can handle themselves. I can't pay much, but there's free food and I'd take good care of them, if you know what I mean."

"So essentially you're back to your old tricks?"

"I've got an old place down on ninety-seven and I'm trying to fix it up, but you can't run a whorehouse without muscle."

"Funny that you should mention it," he said, looking out towards the docking ring. "I was hunting for a security gig on a cruise ship or a deep space miner."

"I thought you had enough savings to ride into the sunset. Find a girl and retire dirtside on Teraxis, maybe have a bunch of brats."

"I wish. I hurt my back on a jump last year and a large chunk of my savings went into surgeries to get it fixed. I'm not broke or anything, but retirement is off the table for now. What about you? You're really getting back into whoring?"

"Well, I was never really out. Even when I worked for George I did a few shifts per week when I had the time."

He chuckled. "And always in the cheapest places you could find. Not that I'm judging, it's good to have a job you enjoy."

"Look, a guy like you can always get a security job, there's plenty of ships coming through. But how about you stay a few weeks and help me get things up and running? I'll cook for you and I'm sure we'll have a great time together."

"Like back on Rana? Without the snow?"

I laughed. "Pretty much. But you'll have to share me with my customers."

Anahí

Rashid joined us the next day and made himself comfortable behind the security desk to the left of booth one. The desk was on a small platform, giving him a good view of the room and he had access to all the surveillance feeds. He was reading the news, eating self-baked cookies, and drinking excellent coffee.

I had decided that while my little Raptor was collecting dust at the space dock of an acquaintance, I might as well get the expensive coffee maker and put it to some use.

The morning was rather slow, which gave me the opportunity to thank Rashid for his service -- personally and repeatedly. As much as I liked getting guys off at work, sex with him was on a whole different level. That man sure knew how to hit all the right spots.

*

After handling the busy lunch hour traffic, Sylvie and I were playing dominoes on an unused bed when an unexpected visitor came through our door. She was tall and pretty, with short black hair, wearing boots, military fatigues, and a gray, washed out t-shirt from a rock band I had never heard of. Her backpack looked heavy and she seemed a bit tired.

"Hello, beautiful traveler," I said and walked over to the reception desk. "How can we help you?"

"Hello, sister," she said and set down her backpack. "Wow, you two look absolutely gorgeous."

"Thank you! We'll give you a discount if you want to play with both of us. And we have fresh coffee and cookies."

"I'm not here for fun, I was walking by and saw that you've got a lot of empty beds. Are you guys hiring by any chance?"

I shrugged. "We could definitely use some help. It's quiet now, but later in the evening we'll have more business than we can handle. You just arrived at the station?"

"This morning. Got here on Broke Girl Cruises and I was hoping to stay a while and make some cash here."

"Broke Girl Cruises?" asked Sylvie. "Never heard of it."

"Oh, Sylvie," I said and gave her a friendly slap on the butt. "That's when you hitch a ride on a freighter. Ship's whore, the cheapest way to travel."

"Exactly," she said. "It gets you almost anywhere, but you can't make money that way. I'm not complaining, it was a pleasant trip and with just six guys on the crew I had plenty of time to read. And now I'm here."

"Then welcome to Zesta! I'm Cassidy and this cutie here is Sylvie."

"I'm Anahí, pleased to meet you. So, about that job, is your manager around?"

"That would be me," I said. "I own this place."

Anahí's face lit up with a smile. "Sister, you look a bit young. At your age I owned a pack of chewing gum and even that was half empty."

"Oh, looks can be deceiving. I'm thirty-six, but if you tell anyone I will absolutely deny it."

She seemed amused. "Let me take a look."

I stood up straight, arms behind my back, chest out while she checked my eyes, the area around my mouth, and of course my breasts.

"Unless they stored you in stasis, you should at least have some wrinkles," she said after concluding her examination. "I'm twenty-nine, no way you're older than me."

I pointed at the tattoo above my pubic mound. "You could always check the register."

She scanned my old slave registration number with her comlink and downloaded my information.

"Penal slavery," she read. "Released fifteen years ago, wow. You look like you're in your early twenties, you must have one hell of a sugar daddy if you got him to pay for rejuvenation."

"Something like that. My previous job had great benefits."

"I'll say. Let me check the trade register real quick. Not that I don't believe you, but you are probably the only two whores on this station who aren't chained up. I want to make sure that the real owner isn't lying in the back somewhere with his head bashed in. No offense."

"None taken, we're just starting out. I know the place is a dump, but we're not done yet. At the moment it's just Sylvie and me. And Rashid, over there. He's our security guy."

"Okay," she said, scrolling on her comlink. "The trade register checks out, you got a business license and a permit for prostitution. Are you laundering money or moving drugs or anything? I don't wanna end up in jail over someone else's bullshit."

"It's all perfectly legal, I swear. And you won't have the hassle of finding room and board, you can get everything here."

"Okay, in that case it's not for me. I'm a free woman, I'm okay with wearing a collar and a chain while I work, but I'm not gonna be a serf."

"That's not what I meant. It would be an employment contract, I'm not offering indentured servitude. But you can eat and sleep here if you like."

"Excuse me," said Rashid, who had just joined us. "You're a vet?"

She nodded. "Thorian war. Sixty-seventh marines, you?"

"Rangers, out of Mandriva," he said and shook her hand. "So the legendary sixty-seventh, huh. You guys held the line at Besha, I guess I owe you a beer."

"There's not a lot of us left to tell that story. It's old news anyway, I was barely eighteen when we deployed."

"We were all more or less kids back then. Cassie was in the navy for five minutes, but on the other side."

"Don't hold it against me," I said. "I was drafted and I only worked in the galley. Anyway, would you be interested in joining us? You can pick a booth, no collars or chains required."

"Not being chained up at work is definitely a plus," she said. "That's the single most annoying thing working at a brothel. But ultimately, it comes down to what you're paying."

"How does seventy percent sound? Plus the free food and the place to stay."

"Sounds too good to be true. Fifty was the best I ever got and I've been around. Are all my tricks paid or do I have to do anyone for free? Cops? Friends and family? This son of a gun maybe?"

I laughed. "No, it's all paid. I'm the owner, I'll handle the freebies myself. But you're missing out, Rashid is a great fuck."

"I bet he is," she said and took off her shirt. "Look, I don't have your boobs and a few old scars here and there, but I know what I'm doing and I'm always popular with the guys.

"You've seen our menu?" I asked.

"Yes, that's fine, I can do it top to bottom, no problem. I assume you wanna see me work a few dicks? Or do I eat you out or something?"

I shook my head. "No, you got the job. You seem nice and I wanna work with nice people. And for the record, you and your boobs are beautiful."

"Sister, that's sweet, thank you. Where can I leave my stuff? If you give me ten minutes I'll be ready for work."

"How about you get some rest first? We've got a few bunks in the old slave cages behind the containers, that's where Sylvie and I stay. It's just us girls, Rashid got his own place a few decks up."

"Thanks," she said and picked up her backpack, "but I've avoided sleeping in cages so far, I wouldn't wanna start now. Tell you what, I've got a sleeping bag and a mat. I'll find a spot if that's okay with you. I won't be getting in the way."

"Sure, wherever you like. Why don't you make yourself at home and I'll heat up some leftover casserole if you're hungry. You can join us in a few hours when the evening craze starts."

*

I was really excited to have another woman on the team, especially one we all had good chemistry with, but when the casserole was hot, I couldn't find her anywhere.

"Anahí?" I shouted, hoping that she hadn't left. "Food is ready! Hey, has anyone seen her?"

"Up here," she said, peeking over the edge of the container. "I found my sleeping spot."

I looked up. At almost three meters high, that container wasn't easy to climb.

"How did you get up there?"

"Stepped on the windowsill and pulled myself up," she said as she climbed back down.

"Try that when you're my height," I said. "Want me to get you a ladder? I think I've seen one in storage."

"Not necessary. But a bucket and a rag would be great, nobody cleaned up there in ages."

"You don't have to, I didn't hire you for cleaning. I'll get a ladder and take care of it."

"I was a marine," she said. "The three things we do best are fighting, fucking, and scrubbing floors. I got it covered."

*

"How did you get into this business?" I asked while I put a chunk of casserole on her plate.

"It was after the war," she said, giving the food a moment to cool down. "Whoring was a convenient way to make a few bucks. I was made for battle, I know useful stuff like how to heat up a field ration when all you have is a blaster coil and a screwdriver. Employers weren't exactly standing in line for my particular set of skills."

"Well," I said, "if you like combat, there's plenty of mercenary outfits you could join. Rashid and I have contacts, just say the word."

"I did what I was trained to do," she said between bites. "To say I liked it would be a stretch."

"But you said-"

"Ah, sorry, that was a misunderstanding. I was literally made for battle, as in, bred and raised for it."

It took me a minute to let that sink in. She definitely had the physique of an amazon warrior, if I were to breed soldiers for an intergalactic war, that's pretty much how they would look like.

"So you're a clone?" I asked.

"No. There aren't a hundred thousand identical copies of me if that's what you're thinking. I was conceived in a lab with donated sperm and eggs. You know, artificial womb and everything, but I'm a normal human being, they just selected good genes for the kind of work they wanted me to do."

"Wow. And you grew up without a real family?"

"They raised me at a military school," she said after taking a sip of water. "With thousands of other kids until I was old enough for deployment. My unit was my family, but after four years on the frontlines, well, you can imagine."

"Hey," I said and put my hand on her shoulder, "we'll do everything to make sure that you're happy here. If you ever need anything, just let me know."

*

Anahí took a short nap and a shower and joined us in the early afternoon -- the rather slow time when people often showed up with special requests that weren't possible during more busy hours. She was just getting undressed, showing off her impressively toned body, when Sylvie came over from the reception desk where a man in an expensive suit was waiting.

"This gentleman wants something that's not on the menu," she said. "A golden shower. With two girls."

"Hey," I shouted over. "You on us or we on each other?"

"On each other," he shouted back.

"What's a golden shower?" asked Sylvie.

"That's peeing on someone," said Anahí, organizing the lube and gel bottles on the wall of her booth. "Easy money."

"Oh. So we're doing this?"

"If I find a second volunteer," I said, "Too bad that I just went, I'm all drained. But I can be on the receiving end, we'll split the money fifty-fifty."

"No problem," said Anahí. "Feels a bit weird that my first trick is peeing on the boss, but I can do it. Unless our youngest here wants to give it a try. Like I said, it's easy money."

"Thanks," said Sylvie. "I'll watch and learn."

"Alright," I shouted. "We're doing it for forty credits. You get a third girl watching for free."

Zealot

Anahí proved to be a fantastic addition to the team. She handled her clients like the seasoned professional I had expected her to be, helped us out whenever something needed to be done around the business, and was a lot of fun to hang out with.

It was an unusually busy Thursday afternoon that had all three of us working. Anahí was handling special requests and Sylvie was getting her ass hammered by one of her regulars -- she was struggling a bit with his size, which was probably why he always requested her.

He had her bent over the separator wall towards my booth, a position the guys often chose when they liked it a bit rougher, and as much as Sylvie was into anal sex, her groans were not entirely from pleasure. Judging from the expression on her face she was fighting rather than enjoying herself.

"Are you okay?" I whispered and squeezed her hand.

She nodded, gesturing me to go away.

Of course we weren't paid for having fun -- working in this business often meant long hours, pushing through some level of discomfort -- but if he couldn't get it done within our time limit, I would kick him out.

"Five more minutes," I warned him.

"Yes, yes," he said, picking up speed. "Almost there."

I decided to keep an eye on the situation while changing my sheets when I saw someone standing at the entrance. A heavyset man in his sixties, bald and with a face that was getting redder and redder by the second. The girls hadn't noticed him yet, Anahí was sucking dick like her life depended on it and Sylvie had just won her epic battle -- she was sitting on a towel, drinking some water.

I looked over to Rashid who gave me a nod. He must have spotted the guy before I had because he was already moving towards the entrance, the retention strap on his holster open, ready to draw.

The guy didn't notice any of us as he stomped towards the booths. I dropped the fresh sheet and grabbed my blaster, stashed under the bed for cases like this.

"Sir," said Rashid and stepped in front of him. "What's the problem here?"

For a moment, the guy seemed stunned, he probably had tunnel vision and for him, Rashid had come out of nowhere. He reached for his pocket, but before he could fully draw his weapon, he was already pinned to the floor. I rushed over and took the blaster from him while Rashid secured his hands using zip ties.

Before we could talk to him, he screamed one word.

"Sylvia!!"

*

Rashid helped him to his knees and kept a hand on his shoulder to prevent him from getting up. The rest of us stood around in a half-circle.

"What are you doing here, dad?" asked Sylvie, exasperated and clearly annoyed. "Do I have to go to the edge of space to finally get rid of you?"

She was glaring at him, arms crossed under her naked breasts.

"I knew it," he screamed. "I fucking knew it, you stupid little whore. Did you think I wouldn't find out? You're on the friggin' slave register."

"We're not calling each other names here," said Rashid and smacked him over the head with his flat hand. "Don't make me kick your ass."

"And put on some clothes!" he whined. "Do you have no shame? That goes for all of you!"

"You don't get to control my life anymore," said Sylvie, her voice trembling from anger. "I don't wear clothes at work, they get in the way of fucking my clients, you know."

"You are a disgrace to the whole family. Let me up, you assholes. I'm a man of God!"

"Give me a break!" shouted Sylvie. "A zealot and a hypocrite is what you are! If anyone's a disgrace, it's you! Ever wonder why all five of your kids got the hell out the very first chance they got? And not just the city, we left the fucking planet!"

Slyvie was a sweet girl with endless patience who usually got along with everyone, but then again, nobody gets you riled up like family. I could tell she was beyond furious.

"Sylvia," he shouted back, "what you are doing is a mortal sin! Lying with a man who is not your husband. You will come home, do you hear me? A few days in the sweatbox in the sun and you'll repent, like you always do!"

"Come home?" she taunted him. "But daddy, I'm not done here, I still have to lie with so many other men who are not my husband either. How many did I do today, Cassie?"

"I don't know, I'd have to check the register," I mumbled, trying my best to stay out of the crosshairs.

"See! It's been so many, even my boss doesn't know. Two dozen at least! And the night is still young, I'm gonna let everyone fuck me who comes through that door, in pussy, mouth, or ass!"

Oh my, I thought, she's laying it on thick. I hope he doesn't get a heart attack.

"And look, dad," she said, pointing at the little puddle that was forming between her feet on the floor. "I've got a guy's spunk dripping out of me after he pounded me in the ass for ten minutes. Nothing you can do about it, so deal with it!"

"You are possessed by the devil, harlot! Let me go, asshole! I will beat the sin right out of this godless slut. And then I will take her home where she belongs."

"So I can marry that brainwashed idiot you picked for me? No thanks. I am done with you and your friggin' cult! I have been belittled and humiliated enough!"

"Sylvie, I think we should really wrap this up," I said. "What do you want us to do with him?"

"Too bad that we can't make him walk home. Through the goddamn airlock."

"Yeah, that's definitely not happening," I said. "We can rough him up a little, but eventually we'll have to let him go."