The Naughty Nymph Ch. 04

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Mother

She looked a lot older than the last time we had met, but with her hair tied into that same old bun, straight posture, and her ever-vigilant eyes she looked every bit as tough and intimidating as I remembered her. It was like being haunted by a ghost from an unhappy past.

"Mother?! What are you doing here?"

So here I stood in front of my own mother, the woman who had disowned me more than fifteen years ago, naked and with my last client's cum running down my leg. Talk about shitty timing.

She must have watched the whole thing, but it was hardly the first time she had seen me having sex -- I remembered vividly how she walked in while I was enjoying myself with my boyfriend and his twin brother. The poor boys never dared to come anywhere near our house again.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I asked again, wiping myself with a tissue. My hands trembled as I picked up the coffee mug that I had placed on the wall of my booth. It was either the coffee mug or my blaster, I needed something to hold onto.

"I could ask you the same thing," she said, looking over to booth seven where Sylvie was riding a client, eyes closed and boobs bouncing. "You're whoring yourself out again? I thought you had closed that long and undignified chapter of your life."

"That is none of your business. How the hell did you even find me?"

"I got the address from your sister. She and her husband say hello, by the way."

I cursed under my breath. Little sis could at least have warned me. She was pregnant with her second child, maybe the hormones had clouded her judgment. Or maybe they had caused memory loss -- I wasn't sure about the science but at this point I wasn't going to rule anything out.

"You look young," she said after a long, awkward silence. "At least your shady nonsense paid for rejuvenation."

"You've got some nerve judging me, mother," I said, wondering if picking the coffee mug over my blaster had been the right choice. "At least I'm not a goddamn war criminal, you're lucky that they didn't hang you like the others."

With ten years in a prison camp she had gotten away easy, considering what her troops had done to countless cities in neighboring systems. If word got out that a Thorean ex-colonel was on the station, bounty hunters would probably stand in line.

"I was a soldier," she said, "and I was following orders. Not that you ever understood what orders and duty even mean. But let's not dwell on the past."

"You'd like it to be over, huh? Tough luck, I heard that even back home they don't want their war criminals back."

When she just stood there and didn't say anything I knew what this was about. The new Thorian government had confiscated all family assets and with her record she couldn't get permanent residence on Trivara either, so staying with my sister was out of the question.

"So you're in a tight spot, financially," I said.

"Yes."

"Okay," I said, determined to not make this easy for her.

"Your sister just bought a house," she said, "there is not a lot she could do to help. But you on the other hand ... I have served my nation all my life and now I have nothing, Cassidy."

"Well, the innocent people you waged war on have even less. A lot of them are dead. Burned to ashes when you bombed their cities, and those were the lucky ones."

She sighed and I could tell that she was having trouble controlling her impatience. Like in every conversation we ever had for as long as I could remember.

"I am your mother, Cassidy. I raised you and gave you chance after chance, the gods know it wasn't easy."

"You mean you want the proceeds from my shady nonsense?" I asked, dripping with sarcasm. "Or the money I make whoring myself out?"

"Don't be like that. You have been ungrateful all your life, it's time you do something for your family."

"Oh, I saved your other daughter from slavery and bought her citizenship on Trivara. I think I did plenty. And when I needed help from you, all I got was either lectures or total radio silence."

"You were a problem child, Cassidy. I hope you remember that."

"Maybe, but at least as an adult I have always earned my own money, I didn't run to you, begging for help. I ran in the exact opposite direction. But I hear they need cleanup and maintenance crews at the shipyard. I could make a call, an acquaintance of mine works there."

"You want me to work on a cleanup crew?" she asked, barely controlled rage was flickering in her eyes. "I'm a colonel of the Thorian navy!"

There she was, the mother I knew. Self-righteous and entitled.

"Dishonorably discharged, let's not forget that. Maybe wearing a collar on a contract will teach you some humility. You'll get room and board and don't pay taxes, it's almost like in the military."

"You have contacts in the security industry, Cassidy. You could get me in touch with the right people."

"So you want to be a mercenary? Haven't you done enough damage? Listen, if maintenance isn't good enough for you, then there's only one thing left that I can offer. Pick a booth and turn a few tricks. It's a good deal, the house only takes thirty percent."

I knew I shouldn't have said that, but my mother never failed to bring out the worst in me. She tried to slap me, but I blocked her and raised my own hand, only to find my wrist in Rashid's iron grip. I had been so furious that I hadn't even noticed him.

"Excuse me," he said. "I couldn't help but overhear your conversation. Ma'am, I think you better leave."

*

The next afternoon I was standing in the kitchen, teaching Sylvie and Carla how to make brownies and cupcakes. I figured it was time for them to learn something useful for a change and both girls approached my baking class with the same kind of youthful enthusiasm as when they had trained each other's asses and throats over the last few weeks.

I was just explaining the difference between folding and stirring when my comlink chimed. It was Amara, my younger sister.

"Hey, sis," I said and brushed some flour off my boobs. "Can I call you back? I'm kind of in the middle of something."

I turned the camera to the kitchen table where Carla was stirring dough and Sylvie was alternating between decorating the cupcakes and feeding Carla little chunks of chocolate.

She chuckled. "Nobody wears clothes at your place?"

"You don't have to wash clothes you don't wear," I said and my heart skipped a beat when I saw how Sylvie was chopping chocolate. "Sylvie, careful with that knife! Don't cut yourself!"

"I see you've got some daughters of your own."

I laughed. "Yes, they are amazing, I couldn't be prouder. Listen, I wanted to talk to you anyway. Mother showed up yesterday. Unannounced. What were you thinking when you gave her my address?"

"That's kind of the reason why I'm calling. Mother's been arrested."

*

I retreated to the office and closed the door.

"Are you kidding me?" I asked, sitting down on the desk, avoiding the big, sticky soda stain on the surface. "Arrested for what?"

"For stealing a ship and for flying without a license, or trying to, I don't know how far she got. But wanna hear the best thing?"

"What?"

She waited a few seconds to increase the dramatic effect.

"It was your ship."

I shook my head in disbelief. "That ... woman tried to steal my Raptor? Seriously?"

"So it seems."

"When did that happen? And what was the plan? Did she want to go and be a bounty hunter at her age?"

And how did she even know I had a ship? It must have come up during her visit at my sister's. When I had refused to help her yesterday, or rather, refused to help the way she wanted, she must have decided to take matters into her own hands.

"I'm sure you'll hear from the cops in a bit," said Amara. "It happened a couple hours ago, she just called me from jail. Apparently, she's looking at five years minimum."

I scoffed. "Karma's a bitch. Remember when I borrowed the family transport for a little joyride? She called the cops on me and made sure I got the maximum sentence. I spent three months in lockup in an adult jail. First time I got a judicial whipping, too."

"I know, I know, she's never been mother of the year, but you were a wild child, Cassie. Whenever something was dangerous or forbidden, you'd be the first to do it. Nobody knew how to control you."

"I was a free spirit, so what?"

"You were a nightmare. And you've got to appreciate the irony, taking that ship is something right out of your playbook."

"Maybe," I admitted, grudgingly. "I hope you're not asking me to help her, because she did absolutely nothing when I was collared. Wasn't the skipper of that carrier a friend of hers? The two years of penal slavery I got, that was completely over the top for selling a few pills. It was in the middle of a war, others got a slap on the wrist."

"Cassie," she said patiently. "I talked to her about that. She was even the one who pushed for that sentence. She knew how the war was going and what the mission of your fleet was. All she wanted was to get you off that ship and out of the military."

Really? The war had been in its final stages and not a single ship had survived when the fleet made its last stand outside the Thorian system. Had she just tried to save my life instead of punishing me more? A fanatic imperialist like her?

"She never told me that," I said.

"Would you have listened? All your conversions with her end in a shouting match. Look, I'm not saying you should get them to drop the charges. The gods know she deserves punishment, but you realize that Lina just got to know her grandmother? Don't take that away from her. Please think about your little niece."

*

The cops finally did contact me and I was summoned to testify the next day in front of the magistrate judge. When I arrived at the judge's office, my mother was already there. She was still wearing the clothes from when we had met the other day and she was handcuffed to the table.

"Your full name is Cassidy Evangeline Anderson?" asked the judge, a friendly older gentleman with gray hair and a beard, wearing a black robe.

"Yes, your honor," I said.

"Any relation to the defendant?" he asked, looking over to her and then back to me. "I can see a certain likeness."

I stared at my feet. "Can I decline to answer?"

"She is my daughter," said my mother, staring at her cuffed hands.

The judge cleared his throat, probably a reaction to the chilly atmosphere in the room.

"Very well. Let's get started then, shall we. Colonel Anderson, in your statement to the arresting officer you made the claim that you were using the vehicle in question with permission. Is that accurate? Because the evidence suggests otherwise."

She looked at me and I looked straight ahead, surly.

"No, your honor," she said. "That was not accurate."

"Noted," he said and turned to me. "That's quite the ship for a civilian, Ms. Anderson. Can you tell me its current value?"

"Honestly, I have no idea. I got it really cheap from my employer when they put the next generation into service."

He scratched his head. "According to the police report, it's a military-grade assault transport. Armed and hyperspace-capable. I assume we're talking way north of one hundred thousand credits?"

"Yes, your honor," I said. The guns and shields alone were worth more than that, not to mention the souped-up hyperdrive.

"Let's say one hundred thousand then. Unless it's worth more than a million, the exact value doesn't make a big difference for sentencing."

He tapped away at his data pad.

"Colonel Anderson, you displayed a high degree of criminal energy when you avoided detection at the dock and you bypassed a sophisticated security system on that ship. This isn't the drunken joyride we deal with here on a daily basis, it was premeditated. The way it stands right now, I'm arriving at eight years of penal slavery plus some lashes, considering the fact that you're a first offender and nobody got hurt."

Damn, I thought, Amara won't be happy. Eight years in penal slavery was a serious bid and my mother wasn't a young woman anymore. When I peered over to her, she tried to put on a brave face, but she was clearly shaken.

"Unless," he said, "the two of you can come to some kind of arrangement. It's none of my business, but it looks like you have a complicated relationship, perhaps you would like to take a first step towards improving it?"

I sighed. Sis, you owe me, I thought. Big time.

"What if I don't press charges?" I asked after a long pause and it caused me almost physical pain.

"That would remove the theft from the equation," he said, "which is the biggest chunk. Breaking and entering at the dock and operating the ship without a license will stand."

"How much?" asked my mother.

"Seven days in jail with fifty lashes per day, which is... three hundred and fifty in total. Then a year of penal slavery at a location that this court will determine."

"I guess you'll have to live with that, mother," I said, secretly relieved that she wasn't getting away scot-free, especially since she always insisted on punishing everyone to the fullest extent of the law.

"Colonel Anderson, do you accept the sentence or do you want to request a trial?" asked the judge. "Keep in mind that sentences at trial are usually higher, should you be found guilty."

"I accept."

"Very well," he said, entering the result into the system. "On a personal note, I hope you can resolve your differences. Good luck to both of you."

*

When the message from court arrived that she was about to depart one week later, I debated for a long time whether I should go and say goodbye.

On another phone call with Amara, that decision was made for me, so I was dutifully standing at the security gate where I was able to see my mother quickly through the glass.

For the trip she had been stripped and put into full transport restraints -- hands cuffed in front to a belly chain, leg irons, and of course connecting chains to her slave collar and the leg irons. She shuffled towards me and looked exhausted, which was no surprise considering the whippings she had endured this past week.

"Did you come to gloat?" she asked. "Must be a dream come true, seeing me like this, chained up like an animal."

"No, it's not. And believe it or not, the chains are a good thing. It means you'll travel on a prison transport. On a slave ship they'd put you in a transport cage the size of a coffin."

"Do you know where I'm going?" she asked and tugged at her cuffs in frustration. "They don't tell us anything."

"No, but I can find out who bought you," I said. "Let me see your number."

She moved her hands out of the way to let me scan the tattooed registration number on her pubic mound with my comlink. Within seconds I had found the owner on the public slave registry.

"They are taking you to Besha," I said. "They sold you to a charity that is helping with rebuilding cities there. From what I hear they treat their slaves well, even the ones from Thoria."

I had to hand it to the judge, sending her to Besha made a lot of sense, considering that the Thorian navy had leveled it in a relentless bombing campaign at the start of the war.

"How are you feeling?" I asked.

"Dead tired," she said after closing her eyes for a moment, "more than I've ever been in my life. I never thought these whippings would be this horrible. I got my last fifty lashes this morning and it took absolutely everything I had."

This was the most humble I had ever seen my mother and I sincerely felt sorry for her. Gone was the intimidating colonel, replaced by a tired, middle-aged woman, a mortal human being like the rest of us.

"Fifty lashes is a lot," I said. "There is no need to feel ashamed, the neuro whip breaks everyone. That's the whole idea."

"I'm so glad it's over. I can't wait to be on the ship and get these cuffs off me. All I want is sleep."

"Mother, you'll be wearing them until you've reached Besha in three or four days. They're not gonna uncuff hundreds of slaves to make them more comfortable."

"Three or four days? Like this? Gods."

And there would probably be no food on such a short trip, but she would find out soon enough, there was no point in telling her now.

"Listen, mother. Whatever they tell you to do, go along with it. Don't make eye contact with anyone and don't push back, they can make your life really miserable. It's only a year, you will get through it."

"Don't worry, they whipped the fight right out of me."

"Mother, how about the next time we meet we have coffee and cheesecake on the promenade? Maybe we can have a normal conversation, I'd like to give it a try."

"I would like that, Cassidy. See you in a year."

Newlyweds

It was half past nine in the morning when I saw a young couple standing outside, peeking in. They looked like tourists and seemed a bit shy as they craned their necks to read our menu. It was a popular part of the Zestan tourist experience to go and watch whores at work on the lower decks, but this early there wasn't much to be seen.

When they kept standing outside without making a move, I decided to walk over and greet them. If I played my cards right, maybe I could land myself the first trick of the day.

"Welcome to the Naughty Nymph," I said. "Please come on in, we don't bite. Unless you want us to."

They both laughed halfheartedly at my lame joke and looked around nervously. If standing outside a brothel already made them uneasy, talking to a naked girl out in the street probably didn't help.

"Please come," I said with an inviting gesture. "You two are tourists? First time on Zesta?"

"Yes," she said while he nodded. "I'm Tanya and he's Juan. We're from Aldar Prime, we're here on our honeymoon."

They both showed me their wedding rings and hesitantly followed me a few steps inside.

"I'm Cassidy," I said and smiled at them. "Congratulations, you two. You're such a cute couple, I'm sure you'll be very happy together."

The Aldar system was just around the corner and if they really came from there, they had picked a honeymoon destination that was the exact opposite from back home. Gambling and prostitution was illegal there, and so was slavery. Even alcohol was strictly regulated.

"You already played at the casinos?" I asked. "And now you're ... sightseeing?"

"Don't stare at her," she said when his gaze wandered across my breasts for half a second. "That's impolite. And you know that everything on Zesta costs money."

"I'm sorry," he said. "Yes, we went to a couple of casinos, but that's not why we came to the station."

We're getting warmer, I thought. If they weren't interested in gambling, there was one other thing the station was famous for. I took their right hands and put his on my left and hers on my right naked breast and left them there for a couple of seconds.

"Now you can tell your friends back home that you touched the boobs of a real Zestan whore and it didn't even cost you anything. How's that for making memories?"

They both blushed and for a moment I was worried that I had moved too fast.

"We were hoping to do more than touching," he said finally. "We wanted to fulfill a fantasy of ours."

"What kind of fantasy?" I asked. "Would you like to have sex with a prostitute while your wife watches?"

"I, err, would like to participate," she said and her face was getting even redder. "And we'd, err, like to humiliate her. If that's possible."

"But only as a roleplay," he said. "We would never insult anyone."

"Yes, we mean no disrespect," she said, clutching her husband's arm.