Dazanna awoke slowly. She opened her eyes to a dark room. Dreams of tentacles and laser dildoes struggled to stay with her but slipped away. Her cheek was sticking to the pillow. There was a pressure in her bladder that needed to be taken care.
It was another day on Pleasure Station Sigma.
Sensing she was awake, the video screen set in her bunk flickered to life.
“It is currently Airday, 10.21 hours. You have sixteen days of leasing left in your rental of this habitation cube. You have one message. It is from the Sex Labor Guild concerning upcoming certification training. Transferring to news feed in five, four, three-“
“Shut down feed,” Dazanna said. She rolled over onto her back. Long blue hair got in her way. The movement agitated her bladder. She really should go to the waste station.
Dazanna grimaced and touched the screen instead. Quickly, she logged into Waste-Watchers. A questionnaire appeared and Dazanna tapped away at the answers. Oh yes, she would be producing liquid waste. Fuck yeah, it would be soon.
On a hunch, she had the screen take a picture of her in bed. An image of Dazanna appeared. Her makeup was smeared. The tangled blue hair needed a brushing. Bite marks covered her left breast. She looked like she had been whoring all night and had yet to roll out of bed with her bladder bloated with bodily fluids.
It was a perfect image. Dazanna hit send.
Now came the hard part. Dazanna sat up and swung her legs over the bunk. The full bladder pulsed urgently. She stood up and hurried to the opposite side of her habitation cube where the waste station lied.
The waste station was a transparent chair of clear plastic. The inner bowl was lined with small cameras. A faint glow emitted from the seat, partially to provide a warm surface for Dazanna to sit and partially to illuminate the waste process for viewers.
Dazanna stood next to the bowl. She knew from experience that if she sat down, that she wouldn’t be able to hold. It was better to wait, even if it was uncomfortable.
A notification pinged from her wrist computer. Waste-Watchers had processed her availability and was awaiting clients.
Dazanna sighed and tried to think of anything else. What kind of gigs was she going to accept today? The bite marks would limit her breast-appeal but her ass was fine. Should she submit for spanking work? It paid well, but it would limit her availability to other jobs. How much did she want to do today?
Fuck, she really had to piss.
The wrist computer beeped. She had a client! He was willing to pay ten credits.
(4 of the credits would go to Waste-Watchers as a service fee. One credit will go to the renter of the habitation cube for equipment and bandwidth. Half a credit will go to the Sex Labor Guild as a union due. Four credits will go to Dazanna’s bank account.)
“Praise the Lords of Space,” Dazanna said. She sat down on the waste station.
A hologram materialized in front of her. The client wanted her to know he was watching. An image of a muscular man wearing the top half of a Station Security uniform. He furiously jacked his cock.
Dazanna smiled. Half of her Waste-Watchers clients worked in security. She made a mental note to access the Archives later and find out why.
The client watched. His eyes stared straight ahead. He was probably looking at a camera shot of her hairless vussy from one of the waste station cameras, but at the moment, it felt like he was staring right at Dazanna’s face.
Dazanna stared back. This wasn’t her first performance. Even though he was likely staring at her sex, she bit her lip and half-closed her eyes.
A moment later, she released the liquid she had been holding.
Halfway through the stream, the security guard released his essence as well.
It was a good start to Dazanna’s work day.
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