Xenofestation 1-05
~A Prayer Before Bed~

Paragonas Vaunt

[SAMPLE]

Entry 1-05/A - The Stranger in the Mirror

Tucson, Arizona, Federation of Mid-American States, Terra

Tali Slater picked up her make-up applicator and stared at the stranger in the mirror.

She knew it was nervousness that was making her check her preparations for the umpteenth time. But better that, she decided, than turn to drink or pharmaceuticals.

There was no time to go out and find a game, the way she'd normally do to calm her nerves. So she checked her make-up one more time, tweaked her blusher to a fractionally lighter shade, adjusted her eyelashes infinitesimally, and thinned her lipstick just a touch.

Then she walked out of the bathroom, leaving the woman in the mirror behind.

Her and her accusatory stare.

The suite was huge and opulently appointed, the bed alone probably as big as her entire hab-cube, broad and well-sprung and draped in real satin. Tali wasn't sure whether the overt luxury of the setting was reassuring, because it showed how important this evening was to the people who had arranged it. Or disquieting, because it showed how important this evening was to the people who had arranged it.

So she perched herself on the end of the bed, and waited edgily for Eddie to arrive and answer that question.

After a while, she glanced at the minibar, and the pharm dispenser.

Usually she preferred to keep a clear head, keep her wits about her. But maybe a bit of fuzz would help this evening pass a bit more smoothly. It wasn't as if she'd be counting cards or anything complex.

She couldn't decide, so she reached up to her necklace, to the clasp holding a genuine vintage silver dollar coin on the end of its sterling silver chain. A twist of the fitting and the coin dropped heavy into her hand.

Heads, stay clean. Tails, have a pinch.

She spun the coin, caught it expertly.

Stay clean it was, then.

Tali hung the coin back on its chain and went back into the bathroom to look in the mirror again.

It was quiet in there, quieter than her own cube would have been because it didn't have the compulsory ad screen. There was a screen over the bed here, but she'd been able to turn that off.

That was how luxurious the suite was.

She stared at the stranger in the mirror again.

At the woman who'd watched her agree to do this thing. In this luxury hotel suite.

Tonight.

Was she really going to go through with this?

Fuck Eddie?

That was all she had to do.

Fuck Eddie and clear her marker.

Trade her pink for her red.

She could do it no problem, she told herself. After all, it wasn't like she hadn't done this sort of thing before, or something near enough to it that her mother wouldn't have seen a distinction. In fact it had become something of a habit lately, an easy way to clear a debt, and the debts had seemed to mount up more and more since she'd fallen in with Marco's troop.

She'd known, or at least suspected, Marco's lot had links to the Syndicate, and that made them bad news. But she hadn't been able to resist it - the heady mix of high stakes and high rewards - and she knew she was a top-flight poker player. She could hold her own in any room.

There'd been wins at first, for sure, and even now the occasional big haul. But, slowly, ever so slowly, the tables had turned, and one night she'd found herself five grand in the hole, without any real sense of how she'd got there, and she'd had to sell most of what she owned to dig herself out.

The second time it happened, on a night in the back room of Marco's diner that had looked like it was going to pay her back all she'd lost and more, she'd had no float left to pay them with.

And then Marco had suggested, all quiet and friendly, no pressure, that there was another way she could pay, if she liked.

So she'd let him lead her out to the little store room behind the kitchen, and let him guide her to her knees, hands gentle on her shoulders, but firm, and she'd sucked his cock.

It wasn't as if she didn't like sucking cock, so it wasn't really a problem, and Marco was good-looking enough in his way, with a bit of an air of raffish danger the way she liked. And it was only a one-time deal. Just to clear the six thousand she owed.

She'd even felt a little surge of pride that he was paying her, or at least forgiving the debt on, ten times what a sport-girl would have charged him for the same service.

Anyway, it was a one-time deal.

Until it wasn't.

Soon it was a semi-regular fixture of poker nights at Marco's. And gradually the reason for it shifted, from meeting her debt at the end of the occasional bad night, to fronting up her stake at the beginning of a normal one. Not just Marco, but his friends as well. Without really being aware of the point of transition until she was way past it, looking back at how far she'd come, she was using her mouth to buy her way into games she couldn't otherwise afford. Still, and again, it wasn't as if she wasn't enjoying the things she was doing, even if the numbers were rising.

The first time she paid with her cunt, she'd started the night so well. But then her streak turned, as it so often did now, and she found herself owing ten grand. Owing ten grand, and now she couldn't use a mouth they'd already had at the start of the night to pay a debt she had outstanding at the end of it.

So they'd all cleared out, leaving her and Marco alone so he could bend her over the baize.

Afterwards, she'd not known whether to go home and wash it out or just leave it where it was. In the end she'd just hung around the diner eating a left-over soyburger while her cunt steeped in it and her hands trembled.

Afterwards, she'd tried - genuinely tried - to reserve that payment just for special occasions, for special partners, but all the other players knew what she'd done with Marco, wanted a piece for themselves, and in the end, one sweltering night of dizzying stakes and a precipitous fall, she'd been so tired and worn down that she just laid herself down there on the table and held her legs open while they took turns between them.

Afterwards, she'd felt ashamed. Not at what she'd done, but at how easily she had come while doing it. Fiercely, repeatedly. Again, not so much at the physical act itself, but the thought of what she was doing, what she was letting them do, of what letting them do it made her. Of what her mother would say if she knew.

Afterwards, she'd become more of a mascot than a player. They'd have her there even if there wasn't a seat at the table for her.

Afterwards, though, there was always a seat of some kind for Tali.

Marco would regularly put her on his tab. That was what he called it. Come over here and get on my tab, Tali, he would say. And soon enough she would readily get on his tab, whether or not she had a marker to repay.

His cock was short but ever so thick, and he liked to settle her on his lap, right there in the middle of a game, her knees tight together to make it feel even thicker, tight up in her. And she would blush in wet embarrassment at how it made her squirm, all played out in front of the other players.

She had no poker face for that. No way to hide her body's response.

Afterwards, Marco started occasionally giving her to his guests. Visiting players from other troops.

Made men.

She hadn't been expecting that, the first time. She'd been leaning across the table in her short dress to gather up the cards and this guy had caught her waist, pulled her onto his lap, sliding his hand boldly down into her crotch to cup her while she squeaked in surprise, and then his cock was slipping up under the hem of her dress, and then into her, into the wet of her, and she shamed at how wet she already was for him.

And Marco had smiled his raffish smile, and watched her get made by this made man.

He was older than Marco and he smelled of patchy hygiene, but his cock felt just the same as any other, so she supposed it didn't really matter.

Afterwards, she'd been expected to thank Marco's friend for fucking her, so she had. "Thank you for putting it in me," she'd said, in such a prim voice, and he'd laughed and told her she was welcome. No doubt she should probably feel ashamed at how readily she came as he squirted his watery cum into her, but by now shame seemed such a distant, quaint notion.

No, that wasn't quite right. The shame was still there, but it had become a spur. A sharpened point of defiance she jabbed herself with, to goad herself on.

And the truth of it was that she enjoyed what she was doing, or at least the thought of it. She took pride in it, in how much they wanted her, how much she made - or was forgiven - simply by letting them do something she might have done anyway. All just a bit of fun at the card table. So it wasn't shame she felt, not really, so much as pride. Defiant pride in the face of any challenge, in the face of her mother's disapproval, in the face of anyone else who might hold her back.

Especially the woman in the mirror.

~O~

Marco was convinced, emphatically convinced, that Tali brought him luck at the table, though she seemed to have little enough of her own now, and when they played craps he liked to have her "kiss" the dice for good luck before an important roll. Soon she was going pantiless to make it easier to do the deed, and that change opened the way to including her in all kinds of celebratory acts or good luck rituals.

All of a sudden, it was becoming harder to get into a game. And when she did succeed in getting a seat the stakes were ever higher, the forfeits deeper.

And then there was that Friday night game of Ganymede Stand-Up.

The thing about Ganymede Stand-Up was you didn't know how much you were in the hole until the final card was dealt, and by then it was too late, you were committed. It was exciting, heady stuff, like the old days, and like in the old days she'd ridden the crest of a wave of good hands until she was twenty grand ahead.

Quite where it had all gone wrong, she wasn't sure. But now she was in the hole for one large one, a hundred grand, and in the course of paying that off another large one would be in the hole, so to speak.

Always assuming Eddie was large, of course. She'd never met him.

But the way the troop described him, in hushed whispers and nudges and sideways glances, there had to be something about him.

You didn't get paid a hundred grand to fuck just some ordinary guy.

Well, she'd paid her debts via the hairy credit-line before, hadn't she? And no doubt she would do it again. This was just a bigger pay-out than usual.

A bigger debt than usual.

But this time did feel different, a bigger deal somehow, and not just because of the bigger debt, or the luxurious hotel suite.

It was the way they had been so relieved when she had said yes, she'd fuck Eddie, like they'd been struggling to find somebody who would.

Well, she told the stranger in the mirror, she could fuck Eddie if she had to. And, if not, well then... fuck Eddie. And the fucking rest of them too.

~O~

"You're beautiful," she reassured herself.

The stranger in the mirror gazed back disbelievingly.

"Really. You are," she insisted, "Definitely worth a hundred grand."

Perhaps she was on the wrong side of the mirror, because the woman on the other side looked a lot calmer than she felt. That was probably because she only needed to watch Tali check her make-up one more time. She wouldn't be in the bedroom for the main event.

She looked a lot prettier than Tali too, in Tali's opinion.

She stepped back slightly, to check out the whole ensemble.

If she was going to do this, expensive hotel and mystery guy and everything, Tali had decided she was going to do it properly. Push the boat out.

She had to admit she certainly looked the part.

The dress had been a present to herself from an early windfall, back when she'd had windfalls. It had cost too much, but too much was exactly the right amount to spend on a dress for a hundred grand luxury hotel fuck session. It had also cost her entire non-recyc allowance for the year, and that made it a bigger investment than the money alone.

It was blood-red, ankle-length, a slinky blend of plasteen and ash silk that hung sinuously on her frame, caressing her full breasts and hugging the curve of her smooth hips on its slippery way to the floor.

There was a split all the way up to her right hip, and underneath she wore sheer black stockings to match the fashionably full-backed sheer black panties. Since the dress was backless, she wore no bra.

And... she felt, cocking her head to one side as she appraised herself thoughtfully, on a good day she'd say that while she had a lot of curves, they were generally the right curves, and the dress really worked to show them off.

Tali adjusted the set of her neat black-bobbed hair. Then took out her make-up applicator and darkened her lipstick a half-shade.

She'd made sure to use non-run make-up.

In case of fluids.

Now she was ready.

Ready to get fucked by Eddie.

Whoever he was. Whatever state he was in when he arrived.

There was nothing else to do but wait.

~O~

She'd prepared everything to the last detail.

She'd even made sure her anti-retrovirals and bioneutralisers were up-to-date, as well as her vaccinations, just in case Eddie was a bit rough, or cut up a bit rough.

But what about her purity seal?

She had about a month left to run on the little disc of metal and polyfibre that shielded the entrance to her womb. But she had a spare in her make-up bag. And a fresh seal would have a fresh spermicidal coating. Eddie was bound to want to fuck her without a lube-sheath. They all did, from Marco downwards, they were very generous that way, and no doubt Eddie would want to splash out too.

For a hundred grand, he'd expect the works.

So should she change her seal and make sure?

She couldn't decide, so she flipped her dollar.

Yes she should.

Tali slipped her hands through the slit of her dress, hooked thumbs into her panties and slid them briskly down to her knees.

She took out the package containing the new seal.

It was in two parts. The first was the positioning tool, a slender plastic cylinder about six inches long. Reaching down between her thighs, she pushed the rounded tip cautiously up into herself.

It was cold, unyielding, but it slid in easily enough, and she probed with it until she felt a click. Slowly she pulled back, gradually drawing the tube down to overcome the sucking reluctance of her vagina to let go of the object it usually held on to so faithfully.

When the tool emerged, the collapsed disc of her old purity seal was on the end. It beeped to warn her it wasn't fitted properly.

It would do that again every five minutes until she put it back in again, the manufacturers figuring five minutes wasn't long enough to absent-mindedly have sex without it.

The manufacturers clearly didn't know some of the men Tali did.

She crushed its chemical cell with a thumbnail to silence it forever, then dropped it into the recycler and picked up the foil packet containing the fresh seal. As she did so, her eye was drawn to the glint of moisture on her fingertips.

She put down the packet containing the new seal for a moment, and held her fingers up to the light.

The moisture was hers. It had transferred onto her fingers from the old seal.

Quickly she dropped her hand down below the view of the stranger in the mirror, not wanting to admit to her how wet she was inside.

Was she bad for being aroused? Was she a bad girl?

Like with that old guy at the poker game. Secretly she'd liked squirming on his nasty cock. Secretly she was maybe looking forward to Eddie. Curious about what might happen, ready to take the gamble.

She guessed it was going to be rough, because otherwise there wouldn't be so much money riding on it, but really, just how much of a gamble could it truly be?

Just a fucking?

Besides, how could you know whether you had any luck left if you never rode it?

Absent-mindedly, she slipped her fingers back inside the slit of her dress, hooked upwards to find more of the moisture, almost surprised to find just how meltingly hot she was there.

The stranger in the mirror seemed surprised too, her eyes wide, but also knowing, judgemental. Tali met those eyes defiantly as she eased into what she was doing.

So tonight might well be rough, but she owed Marco big, didn't she?

Wasn't it right that she be made to pay?

She started to rub.

A knock at the door.

Three taps, brisk.

Tali glanced at her chrono.

More than half an hour to Eddie's arrival, so it couldn't be him.

Tali slipped the foil packet containing the purity seal back into her make-up bag, and shuffled from the bathroom to the hotel suite door, her panties still around her knees.

As she arrived, there were three more knocks, slightly more peremptory.

She thumbed the door camera button to see who it was.

Sara.

Sara was a bit of a fixture at the diner. Tali wasn't quite sure what she did, possibly something for Marco, possibly something for the Syndicate. She was the sort of person who - if you asked what she did for a living - she'd answer something like "Oh, this and that..."

She always gave Tali the creeps.

Sara knocked again, harder.

Tali didn't want her in the room, but could see no easy way of getting rid of her without at least answering the door. Exasperated, she pulled up her panties and straightened her dress, then reached for the door handle.

"About time," Sara said, brusquely, and pushed past her into the room.

"Nice place you've got here," she said, surveying the hotel suite with hands on hips, taking in the vast bed that dominated the space. She ran a finger along the polished surface of the escritoire, then examined her fingertip closely, as if looking for dust. Then she turned back to Tali.

"You've scrubbed up nicely, haven't you?"

She examined the red dress with a critical eye, before suddenly reaching out and, before Tali could stop her, running a finger over her bare shoulder and down her arm.

She examined that fingertip as well.

Sara was standing very close.

She was more than a head taller than Tali, and her body looked hyper-fit, muscles bunching underneath smooth, dark brown skin. Her hair, long and midnight black, was pulled sharply back on her scalp and tied with a knot at the back of her head, from where it cascaded in waves down her back.

But Tali suspected some of Sara's imposing demeanour was a front because, standing this close, she could clearly see the discoloured patch of skin on the taller woman's neck that betrayed the fact she was a dreamer. She was making no effort to hide it.

Even so, the woman was still intimidating.

"Are you sure you want to wear that dress?" Sara said.

Tali made herself stand her ground.

"I thought I should make an effort for tonight," she replied.

Sara snorted derisively.

"Why?" she said, "Eddie won't care. You're just a fuck-hole to him."

Tali blanched. Now she took a step back.

"Have you met Eddie?" she asked, uneasy.

"Met Eddie? Of course!"

"What's he like?"

"Oh, he's just an old softy, really," Sara replied, exploring the room again. She spotted the pharm dispenser and her eyes lit up.

"Mind if I..?" she said, gesturing to the front panel of the little unit, "Oh what do you care, it's all on the tab anyway."

Same as it always is, Tali reflected, I'm always on somebody's tab. Only this time it's going to be Eddie's.

Sara extracted a small fabric square from the dispenser, and slapped it onto the side of her neck before flopping artlessly down into a comfy chair.

"This place is all a bit rich for the task at hand," she said, gesturing languidly at the walls around them, "but the hotel belongs to the firm, and this suite has a private entrance and a lift that's big enough to transport goods in, so..."

Her eyelids drooped as she started to drift away.

"Sara," Tali insisted, trying to get through before the woman was completely gone, "What's Eddie really like?"

"Eddie?" Sara replied, muzzily, with a tone almost of surprise, as if this was the first time he'd come up in the conversation, "He's the boss's favourite. His Number One. Numero Uno. The Big Squeeze."

"So he's a boss himself? A lieutenant?"

"Not really."

"A member of his family then?"

"The boss has always thought of him that way. Looks after his needs. Makes sure he gets his jollies. Needs his jollies regular, does Eddie..."

Sara opened her eyes, focussing only slowly on Tali, who was still standing nervously by the bed.

"Nice dress," she said, as if appraising Tali for the first time, "hope you don't mind losing it. Eddie can get pretty cunt-happy. Cute girl like you, fuck-bunny, he's going to love you..."

She smiled unpleasantly.

"Have you ever fucked him?" Tali asked.

"Me?" Sara snorted in derision, "Do I look like a fucking idiot?"

Her eyes became unfocussed again.

"Oh, sorry," she said, "I meant to say that no, I'm not woman enough for Eddie."

She raised her arms in a shrug, then let them fall again.

Her eyelids drooped.

"Also," she added, "I'm not a fucking idiot."

Her head slumped.

Sara's last words were heavily slurred.

"Yeah... a night spent in Eddie's arms might spoil you for mmmmm..."

She trailed off.

For men? Not for other men? Was that a mistake, or deliberate?

There was a knock at the door. Three taps, soft.

Eddie had arrived.

~O~

Tali opened the door to two men. One was Marco, the other a tall, broad-shouldered man she didn't recognise, wearing a dark suit.

Eddie?

Well, he doesn't look so bad...

"All ready, Tali?" Marco said by way of greeting, while the other man pushed past her into the room, completely missing the welcoming smile she'd fixed for him.

"As I'll ever be," Tali replied.

"Good, that's the spirit," Marco said, his attention not entirely on her.

The suited man, having completed a circuit of the suite, now came back and nodded to Marco, who himself waved to somebody out of sight down the corridor, before looking back at Tali and gazing down the front of her dress with more than professional interest.

"So..." Tali asked the stranger, ignoring Marco's stare, "Are you Eddie?"

The man snorted, but didn't reply.

"You look very pretty tonight, my dear," Marco said, "I'm becoming very jealous that it's not me spending the evening with you."

His attention was still fixed upon her breasts, barely restrained by the sinuous red silk of her dress.

Tali almost blushed.

"Are you sure you want to risk that dress, though?" he added.

"Why?" Tali started to reply, "Do you think I should ch-"

"Never mind," Marco interrupted, "it's too late to worry about that now. They're here."

He pushed the door wide.

Tali gathered herself, stood up straight, and put her hands in the small of her back, curving her spine slightly so that her ample breasts would be the first thing Eddie saw when he entered the room.

Then she stepped back in shock as not one but two more suited men came in through the door, manhandling between them what appeared to be a large packing crate.

It was over two metres long, more than a metre wide and tall, polycarbonate with a heavy locking mechanism.

The silence in the room was so complete that Tali could hear the soft hum of the suspensor field supporting the crate's bulk, but even with that assistance she could see it was taking some effort on the part of the two men to manoeuvre it into the room.

"What's that?" said Tali, as the hotel suite door closed, and she found herself alone with four men, a dreaming woman, and a crate.

"This?" said Marco, smiling and patting the lid, "This is Eddie."

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