Rivka Levinthal, fresh from a nap in her luxurious cabin on the same ship, was programming the shower. The cabin was bigger than her old apartment back on her homeworld Shiloh. I can't believe I'm actually going to Xanadu- the planet of the Decadents.

Xanadu was a planet terraformed and settled by the so-called Decadents, a community dedicated to harmony based on the pleasures of the flesh. Their unfortunate nickname derived because of the decree of sexual epicureanism in their Utopia. Their even more unfortunate reputation derived from widespread chattel slavery on the planet, even if the institution's resurgence began on other worlds.

Shiloh, in contrast, was colonized by Orthodox Jews. The dour, devout and hard-working community converted the dead world where no life survived the 'oxygen catastrophe' into the galaxy's breadbasket. It was a nice place to live. But it was narrow and drab.

I wanted to spread my wings. Am I going over a cliff? Maybe my parents were right. I should have stayed on Shiloh.

She stood up. Beside the dresser was a full-length mirror. Rivka shrugged off her demure, ankle-length gown and stepped into the shower.

She was average height, medium build, and a fairly attractive figure. Perhaps she did tend to be a bit buxom, but on Shiloh (and, she was pleased to discover, off-world as well) a full figure was considered an asset.

She cupped her hands under her generous breasts under the near scalding water. She did not have to self-examine her breasts, but it was a good habit nevertheless. Some women at the gym described her as voluptuous, a compliment she did not accept, especially after seeing some of the off-world women. But they were nicely sized, and large enough to be shown off under the even modest garments mandated on her homeworld.

If only her face was not so plain. 'Shrewishly intelligent' was the assessment of her looks, and 'overeducated free-thinker' was her own harsher verdict. She ran her fingers through waves of light brown hair as she shampooed it. How strange it was not to have in under a kerchief. But it was a dull color. As for her amber eyes, they might have been pretty, if they were not hidden behind her glasses that added an owlish appearance to her face.

She stepped out of the shower and was toweling herself off when the door chime rang.

"Rivka?" It was Kateri, her suitemate, and escort to her new job on Xanadu.

"I'm not decent." Rivka picked up a dressing gown.

"Don't get dressed." The tone of authority was unmistakable, even through the intercom.

Kateri swept in. The striking Amazon with mocha skin and a warrior bearing still awed Rivka even after months of acquaintance. Two meters of chiseled muscle was poured into a gleaming black catsuit, with matching gloves and thigh-high boots. The neckline plunged to her navel, showing off a considerable amount of cleavage. An ebony phallus attached to the suit pointed upwards- almost as erect as Kateri's military posture.

Rivka admired her, for being so strong, so independent, so gorgeous, so unique and so... Kateri.

"You are pretty, Rivka." Kateri stood at parade ground rest admiring her. "If only you could..."

"I'm not as daring as you. I could never wear that, even on a ship full of Xanaduans..."

"Even we prefer 'Decadents.' We break H-space in twelve hours. We're going to have a little banquet before. Leave your inhibitions behind." She placed a hand under Rivka's chin. "And, I think, your clothing." With that she firmly, but gently, snatched the towel and dressing gown from Rivka. The former she flung over her shoulder. The dressing gown flopped over a chair.

"What!?!"

"You are very pretty, Riv. I want you to stop being so shy and dowdy. You're going to Xanadu. Be a slut."

"I... I..."

"No excuses. Madame Sin does not need a prude as an employee."

Rivka hung her head and trembled a bit. Kateri stepped closer and Rivka's field of vision was filled with sepia flesh superimposed over impressive topography. The taller woman toweled Rivka with an expertise that created some interesting speculation in Rivka's mind.

Kateri dabbed the towel with soft, sensual pats over Rivka's breasts and stomach. She swung it over Rivka's shoulders and rubbed down her back lightly enough to tickle. The legs received long strokes that caused Rivka's heart to flutter. Lastly came the hair. There was no pretense of seduction as Kateri displayed her skill in handling Rivka's often unruly locks. Kateri's hair, in contrast, was tightly disciplined, closely cropped curls that jutted out a bit over her forehead. Why isn't Kateri so talented working on her own hair? The thought was a desperate attempt by Rivka to distract herself from the firm, proud mounds that danced tantalizingly before Rivka's face.

Kateri threw the towel on the bed and smiled at her roommate's discomfiture. She took Rivka's hands and crossed them at the wrist behind the small of the doctor's back. Then she placed her own hands on Rivka's buttocks.

"You blush so prettily."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"So submissive, Rivka. Do you wish to be a slave?"

No reply. Kateri kissed the top of her head and then released her.

"Don't worry. That answer can take years. Meanwhile, there is tonight. I want you to enjoy yourself. "

Kateri peeled off her suit and headed for the closet-sized bathroom. Rivka sank to her knees and stared at her discarded gown.