(Author’s note: This was in response to a scifi writing contest at DFN. It was too long to be eligible but I had fun writing it.)
The alarm wakes me up and I sit up in bed naked under a heavy blanket, trying to shake off the effects of several hours of fucking in one of the sex rooms. But there’s no time to dawdle; I can’t try to snatch a few more minutes of sleep. I have to get cleaned up and report to work.
I take a quick sonic shower, get into my skimpy attendant’s outfit with the sheer red fabric over my crotch and then head out the door. I’m on my way to Bill’s quarters for his morning blowjob. After all, I have to satisfy the man who owns me for another week or so until my debt is paid in full and I become my own woman.
I’m on my way down the hall to his quarters when I see Tayla coming toward me. She smiles as she puts up a hand to stop me. “You’re too late, hun; I already took care of it.”
“Took care of what?”
“Bill’s blowjob.” Then she wipes a finger over her lips, wiping up a little cream I see clinging there before slurping it into her mouth.
“Bitch!” I blurt out angrily. “Stay away from him; he’s mine!”
That’s not true; actually I belong to him, not the other way around. He’s free to fuck or to get a bj from any woman he desires considering how high up he is in the club’s business hierarchy. But I can’t help being protective, especially since Tayla is so dangerously ambitious.
“Actually he’s fair game around here, hun,” she replies with a smirk. “Better get up earlier next time. Remember the old earth saying… ‘the early bird gets the worm’.” Then she happily heads off down the hall. I really want to wipe that smile off her face but I’ve got to get to work…
–
I show up in the main lounge, head over to my station and pick up a tray of drinks Max has waiting for me. There are two glass tubes on opposite ends of the circular bar to entertain the patrons. One is empty; the other is not.
I know the attendant who is in there right now. Poor Irene is naked as she drifts up and down in a tube completely filled with water. Her hand clutches around her throat as though she’s choking to death. Her eyes are wide in agony; it must be painful as hell.
She coughs up a big burst of bubbles as she starts beating on the inside of her cylinder with her fists. Then she goes into painful convulsions, her body spasming and jerking as her tits bounce up and down. Her hips reflexively thrust outward as though she’s lewdly fucking the water.
I notice a group of customers watching her performance, sitting at the bar and also in nearby circular booths. Some of them pump coins into slots in their tables. When they do Irene jerks and bubbles as though her cunt has been cruelly jolted. That’s when I see a distinctly colored fluid spew out of her pussy. Either she has orgasmed again or she’s just wet herself.
I look at Max for confirmation. He holds up two fingers, indicating she’s been in there for a couple of hours at least. The water is oxygenated so she can drown over and over again. But if they don’t pull her out before another six hours have passed her lungs will be permanently damaged and she’ll drown for real. I shudder at the unnerving sight.
I turn my back on her as I pick up my tray… “Thanks, Max.” Then I start moving around my section serving alcoholic beverages to whomever is thirsty. My territory extends from my side of the rounded bar into the casino where gambling machines chime and chirp. The Club’s motto: keep the patrons drunk and happy and they’ll keep pumping credits into the machines.
It isn’t long before my tray is empty. When I return to the bar I have a couple of specific drink orders to fill. Max nods as he goes and fills my order.
I try not to look at poor Irene and her flowing blonde hair. But her drowning sounds are such that I can’t help watching. Her nipples are hard, her pussy red and swollen. Every time she gets enough oxygen back into her lungs she “drowns all over again”, coughing up more bubbles.
It’s painful as hell; I ought to know. I’ve spent many an hour in there, suffering for the Club’s benefit just so Bill can make some extra money off my agony. Thank gawd he’s just about made back the entirety of what he spent to bring me into his employ.
My shift goes on; refill drinks, smile at the occasional pass a customer makes… try not to look at Irene. I’m glad the other tube is empty; it’s hard enough watching Irene in agony without seeing two at a time. But I suspect it won’t be empty for long. Around here it’s a woman’s suffering that brings in the dough.
I get a short break so I move away from my station to wander around a little. There are two more circular bars with a large common area for all of us. Two tubes each are attached to both circular stations just like the two attached to the bar I service.
In them I see naked women dancing and gyrating. They’re trying to tempt the customers into buying them for a stint in one of the sex rooms. That’s how they make most of their money; that is, after the Club skims its cut off the top.
When I check back in, Max has a tray of drinks prepared for one of the snuff rooms. I find out where I’m supposed to go and then depart with the tray without question. Around here it’s best not to ask… and best not to get queasy about taking a tray into one of those rooms. An attendant with a weak stomach doesn’t last too long around here; they get snuffed rather quickly if they can’t take it.
When I arrive I see they have some naked girl I don’t recognize lying flat on her back locked into a guillotine. She’s forced to look up at the blade above her; she appears to be terrified. She must have been brought in from off-station as I know most of the attendants working here. Some guy is between her legs fucking the shit out of her while three others egg him on.
She screams as the blade suddenly falls. The guy roars out a “Fuck; she’s really milking me!” as she jerks and shudders. But her head remains attached the whole time.
The virtual blade momentarily blocks her nerve receptors at the point of impact. But she’s really jerking around as that guy fucks her savagely. She’s probably cumming up a storm. But the poor thing is not allowed to feel it, just like any other woman who would have lost her head for real.
I’ve been in this room too, been underneath that blade many times before. But I smile politely, offering the men their refreshments. They eagerly remove their drinks from my tray; I can tell they’re thirsty. One of them looks at me admiringly.
The girl seems to snap out of her shock, whimpering pitifully as she pants like crazy. Then she looks up and sees the blade hanging above her head once more. She lets out a mournful wail as another man takes his place between her legs.
They will play this game over and over with her until they tire of her. Sometimes they let her go… but sometimes they choose to sever her head for real. The bastards often like to take home souvenirs of their experience here.
I head back to the bar with my empty tray, forced to take a path that takes me along the circular exterior walls of the Club. They’re made of glass so you can see outside… can see the other stations out in space with long tunnels connecting to ours. Then I see a naked body slowly drifting by. It makes me recoil in horror, reminding me where I am and how much I hate this place…
It’s attendant Jenna slowly passing by, her body a gruesome shade of grey as though every inch of her has been beaten with some sort of pipe or blunt object. She has a look of horror frozen on her face. It’s obvious she was alive when they ejected her out into the cold vacuum of space as I notice bits of frost in her crotch, on her skin and around her eyes. It must have been horrible.
I shiver as I hurry back to my section. Of all the deaths I’ve witnessed here I think I hate that one the most. It reminds me how cold it is out here in space. Even now I feel chilled despite management’s attempts to keep the place warm and comfortable for the customers. It must be psychological; I always feel a bit of a chill around here.
It’s back to the bar where Max refills my tray with a variety of drinks. When I glance over at Irene she chooses that particular moment to cry out in my direction, spasming and grunting. Then she starts coughing up bubbles as though she has started to drown all over again, her hips thrusting obscenely. But the drowning never really stops – never really pauses – until you are finally released either by death or by the action of the transporter.
I move around my section dispensing more drinks, noticing how some customers are really becoming inebriated. We have places for them to sleep it off so long as they still have credits to spend in here. It’s amazing how addicted some of them have become.
Another break and I swing by to check one of the other bars. A brown-skinned attendant named Zelda is dancing up a storm; that is, until she suddenly starts to shimmer and then vanishes from inside the tube. I check the time; her shift isn’t over yet. Obviously someone has transported her directly to a sex room for some fun. That means more credits for the Club; management will be happy.
I’m heading back to my section of the circular bar when Sherise walks by carrying the head of that girl I saw locked in that guillotine. So she didn’t make it after all and I’m not surprised. The look on her face says it all; it must have been horrible watching the blade come down for real to take her life like that.
I’m just walking away from the bar with a new load of drinks from Max when one of the men in that guillotine room comes up to me. He motions for me to follow him and I walk up to check the pager hanging on his belt. He has enough to afford me, although I’m not that expensive. Max is already calling another girl to take my tray as I set it down and then follow after my john.
It’s into a sex room for some Zero-G fucking. It’s a hell of an experience but I’ve learned to handle it, even though it can be a little unsettling. We bump against the walls now and then as he hammers my pussy had. But I make sure to give him a really good time. I don’t ask him about the girl they beheaded and he offers no information. It’s better that way as I really don’t want to know about it.
When we’re done I get dressed and then head back to my section. I’m walking up to the bar to pick up another tray of drinks when Sherise comes up to me. She tells me Bill wants to see me right away.
“Where is he, hun?”
“He said he’ll meet you in the transporter room.” That’s when I feel an icy claw grip my stomach.
“Are you sure?”
“That’s what he said, Karen.” There’s a look of sympathy in her eyes.
“Ok, hun. Watch my section?”
“You got it.” And with that I abandon Max and my tray of drinks.
At that moment I notice that bitch Tayla standing nearby. She runs the edge of her hand across her neck in a slashing motion as though she thinks I’m dead. She has a smug look on her face; it makes me wonder if she knows something I don’t.
I take one last look at Irene, poor girl. Her eyes are wide in horror. She convulses painfully, coughing up bubbles as those credits are continually pumped into the table slots to make her cunt jerk and thrust. I’ve seen this so many times before, but it still gives me the shivers… only this time it feels like a bad omen.
I can’t stop the ball of fear in the pit of my gut from growing as I head off to catch up with Bill. Why does he want to see me in the transporter room? There can only be one reason.
When the door opens I step inside, only to see him hooking up a noose inside an open tube. The whooshing door makes him turn in my direction. He looks grimly at me before instructing… “Out of your clothes and right in here, Karen.”
The knot tightens in my stomach as I start to get the shakes. “Do I have to?” I stammer nervously. I’ve been in here many times before; each one was a horrific combination of ecstasy mixed with agonizing breathlessness.
“This will be the last time, honey; I promise.”
“Bill, you said that last time!”
“This time I mean it, honey. Ride the noose tonight and I promise you’ll never have to ride it again. You’ll be free; your debt paid in full.”
“Do you mean that?” I ask dubiously.
“You’ll be your own person, Karen… an attendant with full privileges. You’ll have much more say over who you fuck as well as the shifts and locations you work. You won’t have to work the snuff-bar ever again if you don’t want to.”
“You said that last time too, Bill,” I snort derisively, “…and then you took it right back!”
“A small detail prevented me from setting you free last week. But tonight’s the night; you have my word. You just have to ride the noose one more time.” Then he gave me a warning look as he added, “Be grateful it’s not the drowning tube.”
I swallow hard as I remove my attendant’s outfit, folding everything up and leaving it in a neat pile on a nearby chair. Then I step up to the tube, the front section of glass swung open to accommodate me. He’s already got a small coil of rope in his hands to bind my wrists behind my back.
“Why this time?” I pant anxiously. Somehow I sense he’s not telling me the whole truth.
“Mr. Big from the mining colony is in our club tonight, Karen. He specifically asked to see you dance. You know how important his business is to us.”
I nod in resignation, knowing how important the man is and the workers he sends up here with their pockets full of credits. I’m not sure how much say Bill had in this decision to begin with. Then he cinches my arms tight behind my back as my pussy starts to drip from my fearful arousal.
“You know I love you, don’t you?” I breathe in a whisper.
Maybe I do and maybe I don’t; sometimes I’m not so sure. But I’m definitely certain of my feelings if I sense my life might be in danger. But does he love me back?
“Relax, Karen,” he says with a chuckle. “You’ve done this before and you love the orgasms. Besides, it’s only for an hour or two until Mr. Big is satisfied with your performance and moves on to someone else.”
He turns me around, once more admiring my full, heaving breasts and erect nipples. A sheen of perspiration has broken out all over my skin even though I still feel chilled from being out here in space. Now I’m starting to get the shakes like I always do whenever he makes me ride the damned thing.
I’ve always hated the noose despite the orgasms it gives me. But up ‘til now I’ve come out the other side of the experience none the worse for wear. I usually have erotic nightmares for a couple of sleep cycles until I settle down from the experience. I don’t know why, but I can’t help feeling this time is going to be different.
He pushes me backward into the tube where he carefully loops the coil around my neck, cinching the knot just behind my left ear. “Ride it like you mean it, Karen,” he tells me quietly, taking up the slack until I’m up on my toes. “Give him a good show and I promise it’ll be your last.” I inhale sharply, whimpering pitifully.
Bill’s already developed a bulge; the bastard loves seeing me ride the noose just as much as the next guy. Then he reaches into a pocket and pulls out the pussy module. It’s designed to jolt my cunt as the watching patrons pump credits into the mechanism for the tube I’ll be “dancing” inside.
“Really, Bill?” I whimper with fright. “Really?” He just smiles at me as he pushes it all the way in with his fingers, seating the damned thing deep in my cunt. Isn’t it enough to hang me without allowing the bastards to force those painfully erotic orgasms out of me??
The cums the pussy module triggers are horrific in their intensity, yet exquisitely sublime in the way they make the female body jerk around while dangling from a noose. I’ve ridden it numerous times myself, and I’ve seen girls do the “rope-ballet” many times before. I know exactly what I’m in for… know exactly what I’m going to look like to those horny bastards and their women when they start pumping their coins into my infernal contraption.
He kisses me on the lips, a long lingering kiss as I struggle to stay on my toes. I’m already wriggling and squirming with the module inside me. Then he slowly closes the glass door.
“Might as well enjoy yourself, Karen, since this will be your last time.” Then he walks over to the console. A few seconds later the light shimmers all around me as my molecules are disintegrated.
It’s a dizzying ride, always a little disorienting. Worse, when I rematerialize inside the bigger tube at the bar for noose-dancing I’m already hanging. Irene’s still drowning in the other one; now I’m inhabiting this one!
Several patrons have gathered at the bar and the little rounded tables near the tube I appear in. Obviously they’ve been expecting me to make an appearance. Almost immediately they start to clap as I dance for them.
My lungs are already heaving from lack of air as I kick and jerk and fight the coil. It’s designed to be painfully tight, just not tight enough to take my life. The filters pump extra oxygenated air into my tube, the ingenious cruelty of the contraption designed to keep a dancer alive for several hours. Permanent damage can and usually does occur if left inside too long. That’s why I can’t help wondering if this time my fate has been sealed.
It hurts so bad; gawd, I can barely get any air down into my lungs! I’ve ridden the damned thing so many times that my body has been conditioned to the process. I thrust my hips out, lewdly air-fucking in the direction of the viewing customers as I jerk and kick, struggling desperately to pull more air down my constricted windpipe.
I scan the patrons until I see Mr. Big right there sitting in a booth with the best view. He pumps some credits into a slot in the counter, causing my pussy module to come alive. That’s when I jerk and thrust like crazy as though someone is fucking me. I gasp and gurgle from the agony, cumming violently.
Perspiration flies off my body as I strangle in the noose; even then I’m still chilled to the bone. The Club is in a station in orbit outside of Mars, always on the dark side to simulate nighttime. More gambling happens that way if the customers don’t think it is daytime. More gambling and more sex means more money for the Club. It’s just the damned illumination shining out the windows allowing me to see things I don’t want to see… like Jenna’s grey naked body drifting in orbit on the other side of the glass.
My body is just starting to slow down when my pussy module becomes active again, causing me to kick and thrash about once more. Someone else has just pumped some credits into the slot to my tube. As a result I jerk around like one of the lewd, naked dancers in the tubes at the other bars.
It swells within me again until I try to scream out. My hips thrust outwardly as I show off my wet, pink pussy to the eyes of one and all. Then I’m cumming again, that horrific mixture of pain and pleasure.
My kicking settles down but I’m granted little respite. My lungs scream for air; I’m getting just enough to survive. I hang limp, my nipples painfully erect as my fluids trickle out of my pussy all the way down my legs to puddle onto the floor.
…and then some other bastard puts more credits into a slot, and I’m jerking and dancing and kicking and cumming all over again…
It’s impossible to keep track of time in here; minutes feel like hours. You think your heart’s going to explode out of your chest; half the time you want it to explode just so your suffering will come to an end. Then some heartless bastard wants to watch me kick up a storm and cum all over myself once more. That’s when the coins drop into some slot somewhere on some tabletop, and I’m dancing and orgasming all over again.
I try to look around for Bill but I don’t see him anywhere. All I see is Mr. Big and some of his men from the mining colony. Every now and then he drops more credits into the slot just to watch me dance like a marionette.
The orgasms aren’t bad, but they can’t hold a candle to the agony of hanging breathlessly. Each time Bill put me into this damned thing I was sure it was going to be the end of me. But each time I was beamed back to the transporter room where I recovered as though it hadn’t happened at all. I find myself hoping that will truly be the case tonight. I so much want to pay off my debt to him and become a free woman… free to make my own choices… free to take my own risks inside the Club.
I’ve been hanging quiet for several minutes when I see Tayla slide into the booth right next to Mr. Big. When she bends over I imagine she’s blowing him right there in the booth while I’m hanging for his perverse enjoyment. She pops back up to grin at me before bending back down to take him back into her mouth. I would gladly suck and fuck him myself if only he would decide enough is enough and would let Bill send me back.
As I hang there fully strangled I catch sight of a new girl in an attendant’s outfit serving drinks. I’ve never seen her before and she’s serving in my area. Seeing her working my section unnerves me.
Across the lounge at another circular bar I see a naked woman gyrating in her tube. My vision is blurring; I cannot see over there well enough to see who it is. I only wish we could switch places… but apparently that is not to be.
Tayla comes up off Mr. Big’s cock and I see fresh cum hanging from her lips. She wipes it off with a smile and then whispers something into his ear. He nods, at which time she gets up and leaves, motioning for many of the patrons observing my suffering to get up and follow her.
Where the hell is she going… and why is she taking them with her? No matter; is it all over now? Is my agony about to come to an end? Then that familiar shimmering effect starts to happen all around me. I sigh inwardly, relieved my suffering is finally coming to a halt.
When I rematerialize I hit the floor with a thump, having dropped a short distance. The noose is gone from around my neck and my hands are no longer tied behind my back. That is one effect of the transportation process; rope can be separated from flesh and diverted elsewhere.
But where the hell am I? I’m not back in the transport room! Then my vision starts to clear as I get to my feet and…
OHMYGAWD!!! I’VE BEEN TRANSPORTED TO ONE OF THE AIRLOCKS!!!
My breath catches in my throat as I rush to the glass door. Tayla is right there along with most of the patrons I recognize were watching my dance! She has this evil smile on her face.
“You bitch! What are you doing to me??”
“Mr. Big bought you for me in exchange for giving Bill three new girls,” she tells me, her words coming through the speaker up in the ceiling. “You’re mine now so I’m going to set you free, honey.” My eyes fly open in horror as I start hyperventilating.
“NO – YOU CAN’T! HE SAID I’D BE FREE TO BE MY OWN PERSON!”
“But you will be, Karen… out in space.”
“NO, TAYLA! GAWD; NO!” That’s when it hits me…
The bitch set this up… she set the whole thing up! And she knows my weakness…
“NO!” I beg, pounding on the glass to the other side of the airlock. “NOT LIKE THIS, TAYLA! GAWD; NOT LIKE THIS!” I’m freezing despite the warmth of the airlock, my naked body shivering with fright and from the psychological chill of being so close to the cold vacuum of space.
“I get Bill, bitch… and I get the last laugh.” Then her hand hovers over the controls.
I start screaming incoherently, my fists beating on the glass as though I can somehow break through to get to the safety of the interior of the club. My mind is frozen in absolute horror; I can’t think anymore. The only image in my mind is that of poor Jenna, ejected out into space hours ago while she was still alive.
Everyone looks at me with excitement in their features. After all, they want to see what happens when a living, breathing individual is ejected out into space. I just never expected to die this way!
I shriek in absolute terror, screaming over and over… “BILL, I LOVE YOU! DON’T LET HER DO THIS TO ME??!! BILLLLLLLLL!!”
…and then my voice is cut off forever as a hiss behind me indicates the glass behind my back is parting to let me out…
My expression of horror freezes upon my face as I’m hit with an unbelievable blast of cold. I inhale instinctively, only for my lungs to freeze. I try to make myself scream as my body compresses the air right out of my chest, blood vessels and major organs freezing instantly as my skin turns grey. Then I’m floating in orbit around the exterior of the Club with Jenna, floating so the patrons can look out and enjoy seeing my naked body through the glass…
© 2016 (written Mar 17 ’16 by Riwa)