Temporary Placement to Counter Employee Shortage
Location: No Can See You.
Species Required: Non-furry Bipedals.
Other Requirements: Sex Labor Guild Certification. Level Two Objectification Rating.
Duration of Assignment: Two one hour shifts with a .1 hour stretch break.
Payment: Twenty credits per customer plus free Archive access. (Minus Sex Labor Guild Fees)
Click Here to Accept Assignment.
Dazanna laid flat on her stomach. She rested her head on ring that framed her face. Blue hair fell to either side of her. The soft gel beneath her was cool and soothing on her naked skin. It was a little too cold for her nipples, but the smart-gel adjusted and warmed itself to a comfortable level.
She spread her legs and slipped her feet into the stirrups. A wall came down and encased her hips, sealing the top half of her body away from view. Metal encased the back of her legs from the top of her thighs down to her feet. The only thing visible was Dazanna’s round ass.
Something wet squirted onto Dazanna’s buttocks. She clenched at the sudden shock. There was a tingle as a beam disinfected her ass.
A light flickered beneath Dazanna. It was a monitor, just within arm’s reach. A menu for music appeared as well as access to the Archives.
Dazanna almost pressed the button for Crin-Pop but stopped. This job required utter stillness and Crin-Pop was awfully easy to dance to. She scrolled through the choices and picked one of the ambient tracks.
The gentle sounds of a beach surrounded Dazanna. A bird squawked. Waves crashed into a shore. Sonar buoys warned of approaching predators.
“Client has arrived,” a stern male voice announced.
Dazanna fought the urge to clench her ass. She was supposed to act natural and relaxed. Besides, if she tensed, eventually she would untense and that would disrupt the experience.
A weight pressed down on Dazanna’s exposed ass. The client was sitting down and using Dazanna’s butt as a headrest. Soft hair brushed her skin. The client wiggled a little as they got comfortable.
Dazanna wondered what the client was here for. This locale offered privacy booths guarded against outside surveillance. Some people use it to open secure communication lines to other privacy booths. Other clients engaged in embarrassing solo activities that were taboo to their culture. At least, that was what Dazanna read in to the service contract she signed. The point of privacy booths is that no one could really know what they were doing.
As for the living headrests, they were just an added luxury. Even when engaging in secret behavior, some people would rather lay their head on a nice ass.
Dazanna tapped on the computer interface and logged into the Archives. The pay was nice for a job where one got to lay down, but the real compensation was the free access. Dazanna loved history and the Archives were the best source. She did a query about the Alliance of Free Systems’ war with the Voyuz and browsed the list of articles.
The head on Dazanna’s ass moved. It was a sudden jerk, followed by pressure pushing down. The client was leaning back especially strong.
Dazanna wondered what gender the client was. The jerk had felt sexual. Could they be engaging in masturbation? Renting a privacy booth just to pleasure yourself seemed awfully frivolous.
The jerk happened again. The client’s head rolled from side to side. Dazanna felt high cheekbones press into one buttock and then the other.
Desire dripped from Dazanna’s smooth vussy and onto the cool gel. She had just been thoroughly fucked by a cyborg an hour ago but it didn’t matter. Wet heat simmered within her.
Dazanna took a deep breath. She was a headrest and nothing more. This was about the client’s desires, not hers. She opened an article detailing the Voyuz Declaration of Conquest and Fatal Grievances.
The client suddenly rose from Dazanna’s ass, only to fall back into it a second later. The head pressed down, almost as if the client’s body was enduring an intense sensation. Something slammed into the plastic casing of Dazanna’s left leg and there was a light pressure of squeezing. It felt like the client had reached for something to hold onto.
Dazanna wondered if the client was alone. Were you allowed to bring someone into the privacy booth? Maybe someone was fucking the client right now.
The urge to touch herself grew stronger. Dazanna’s arms were free in order to manipulate the monitor. The gel she was lying on was very adaptable. If she was careful, and patient, she might be able to slip her hand under her body and stroke her vussy. The client might never know.
Except they may. And if they did, then they would file a complaint. The establishment would forward the complaint to the Sex Labor Guild. There would be a review and a possible re-classification of her Objectification Rating. She might not be able to do this job again, which means losing a free source of Archive access.
The client’s head moved up and down. Poz, they were definitely fucking. There was no mistaking that rhythm.
“Fuck,” Dazanna swore. She returned to reading the history of the Alliance/Voyuz conflict and tried to ignore the ever-growing dampness of her vussy