Aimless - Cover

Aimless

This story is copyright © 2016. All rights are reserved by the author, including that of publication.

Chapter 7: Spy

“Peanut, I’m going to be traveling for a bit,” Master told me as I was lounging on top of him. I just sucked a load of his sperm into my mouth, and was feeling quite content just being next to him. I knew by now it was hormones and stuff from the collar, but I was starting to look forward to the closeness I felt just being there. As soon as he fell asleep, I would be a good little whore and retire to my little spot on the floor.

Immediately, I panicked. I don’t know how I would survive without Master around. “How long, Master?”

“No need for tears, Peanut. About five days.”

“I see. I’ll keep the place very tidy for you in your absence.” I really wanted to cry, but he just ordered me not to. Damn my collar!

“Peanut, i know you’ve grown closer to me these past weeks, but I do have to work sometimes. I need to travel. It’s my job.”

“Would you perhaps need a sleeping companion on the road, or will you find a few floozies to take care of you instead?”

There was a gentle laugh from Master. “Slaves have no need to be jealous.”

“I know. I’m a bad slave. I’m sorry for only looking at the situation as it pertains to me. I don’t mean to be so self-centered. Please punish me appropriately.”

Master looked at his ring and then at me. There was no phoniness in what I said to him. Over the last few weeks, the bonding thing he alluded to seemed to really take hold. I know that what I said was true down through to my core. I never was able to examine his ring, but it seemed to somehow gave him information on what I was thinking or feeling.

“There’s no need for punishment, Peanut. I was actually going to ask you if you’d want to come with me, but not entirely as my bed companion.”

“I don’t understand.”

With a chuckle, Master said, “I’m going to be entertaining some important executives. They enjoy American whores. I have a job that I think that you are especially well suited for, and it will be full contact. Does it intrigue you?”

“I will whore myself out to whomever you ask. You know that, Master.” I would miss the comfort of Master’s cock, I added, but only in my mind. Knowing there was a special job for me sounded intriguing, even if meant he was going to loan me out to strangers.

“How good a spy do you think you’d be? After you handled the situation in the Day Care center beautifully, I wondered if you want to try something else along that vein.”

“Will it involve threatening people? Despite the fact I was under orders, and whatever it is you did that made me able to do what I did at the Day Care, I felt a lot of stress at the time. I still do when I think about it. I even have nightmares.”

“No. I just need information.”

Something bothered me about that, and it dawned on me. “Master, I was watching a holo while I was exercising a week or so ago. It was about a collared slave. She was supposed to be a spy, but they could turn off her eyes and ears with a phrase.”

Master looked impressed. “That’s actually true, Peanut. Similar to the ‘Under new orders’ override. It’s done in the presence of collared people for security’s sake. I didn’t know such information got into a holo. Also, just in case you didn’t know, your entire body can be shut down ... rendering you unconscious.”

“Then I might be a failure as a spy. I don’t care what they do if they find me, but the knowledge that I’ve failed you would be devastating.”

Master smiled. “Thank you for your honesty, Peanut, but, I think I can work something out that would make you the perfect spy.”

“Master, if I get to be with you, even for a little bit while you are traveling, I will cherish every moment. I will gladly welcome stranger’s cocks into any area of my body they desire.”

He simply stared at me and then changed the subject slightly. “We’ll need to hire a babysitter for your daughter.”

I nodded. I could never afford the services of a babysitter since the divorce. I would have to explain the need to Shirley for her to obey. Of course, Master referred to her as mine, not ours. That still hurt, especially with the way I’ve been feeling about him recently.

“Master, you know I can work with Shirley. She passed the tests at the Day Care center with flying colors. I can have her behave with a babysitter.”

“Do that, Peanut. We’ll be leaving on Wednesday, and will be gone until Monday.”


I spent some alone time with Shirley explaining about babysitters. She said she knew about them.

“How?”

“They’re on the holos. They come into people’s houses and wash the people there.”

“Wash them?” I was confused.

“Yes. With their mouths. They get naked and...”

Oh. She was talking about babysitters on soaps. How long has she been exposed to soaps? I thought I requested her access to mature subjects to be restricted. I will have to ask Master if he changed things. If he did, I knew it would probably be for the best of reasons, but it might have prevented this bit of uneasiness.

“Well, this is a different kind of babysitter,” I explained. “Do you like the teachers in the Day Care?”

Shirley nodded. “They call you Lady Rambo when you are not around. They’re always telling me to tell you that I’m happy there.”

I almost laughed. Rambo was a classic viddie that was never remade into a holo. I forget the actor’s name, although it might have been Rambo. The guy didn’t speak much, but managed to cause all sorts of chaos.

“They call me that, huh?” Imagine being given a name of a famous actor from decades ago!

“They call me Little Rambo. The teachers used to be mean to me, but now they’re very nice.”

I could imagine. “I’m glad about that, Pumpkin. Anyway, a babysitter is the same idea as a teacher. She’s going to live here with you when I leave with your Daddy on a short trip.”

“Where are you going?”

“I’m not sure. Your Daddy told me we’re going to Asia for a business trip.”

“Can I go with you?”

“Pumpkin, you need to stay in class so you’ll be ready for first grade in a few weeks.”

“A real school!”

“Yes. Your Day Care is also a real school.”

“I like it there now. Can I go to first grade there?”

“I’m not sure. Anyway, your babysitter will take you to school, and will fix your meals. She’ll be there to answer any questions you have, to help you with your bath, and to tuck you in. We’ll be gone for almost a week, so I want you to be a good girl ... Little Rambo ... for your babysitter.”

“OK.”

“Now, about those holos you were watching about babysitters?

“Yeah?”

“Think of them as comedies. You know your favorite one, Princess Bride, where people say and do things and we laugh?”

“Yeah.” Then she did her best Spaniard imitation. “Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.” Shirley was gifted with a great ear for accents, the same as her mother.

I laughed. “Now isn’t it silly for people to wash other people that way?”

“Oh! I get it!”

“I knew you would, Pumpkin. You make Mommy proud!”

“Can I change my name to Little Rambo?”

“Not yet, Pumpkin.”


I was nervous. It was my first shuttle ride. Master calmed me down my letting me lay on his lap next to his cock. I didn’t suck him off and it wasn’t out of his pants. I didn’t think he wanted me there to suck him. The closeness was enough to calm my fears. The stewardess smiled at me when Master told her it was my first mile high experience. She gave me a pressure pillow to put between Master and his lap, and reminded me not to hold my breath during ascent. His cock was a constant companion, something to keep away the scariness of the shuttle ride and the changes in gravity as it exited and reentered the atmosphere. It was supposed to take no longer than an hour and a half to get anywhere on the planet, but sometimes, especially arriving into America, it could take more than a single orbit before the reentry stations were ready for final drop. It took us less than eighty minutes to get to the Pan-Asian Republic, and despite Master’s cock being next to me, I couldn’t find any peacefulness that would enable me to turn off my mind to make the time seem to go faster.

The people that greeted us in China Free State were in full regalia, and there was much ceremony. I was told not to speak, and I don’t think I could have if I wanted. I was so taken by the people in their colorful garb that I was speechless.

Master took everything with aplomb. He spoke whatever Asian language the people spoke, and made speeches. I knew he was a bigwig at his company; he seemed to be in charge of everybody at the company. Eventually, we were escorted to the helicopter that would take us to Tokyo.

Again, this was a first for me. I never rode in a helicopter before, either. I was expecting a loud “chop chop chop” sound like on the holos, but there wasn’t any sound at all. It felt as if the vehicle lifted by magic as we soared soundlessly through the skies of the Orient. Master rode in the front with the pilot, and I was in the back with the other passengers.

In Tokyo, we received a similar reception to the one we received in China, except the colors were different though equally bright. Again, Master spoke the native language, and he was treated with a lot of respect and deference.

Everything was going nicely until I realized that I was being led in a different direction from Master. I wanted to call out, but my instructions were to be super polite. I didn’t want to break any protocol and embarrass Master. Still, I felt a pang of loneliness being taken in a different direction. I closed my eyes for a moment, and almost heard Master’s words, Be a good whore and follow them. Be polite.

There were a few other Americans with me, and one asked me who I was assigned to. “I have no idea,” I said. “Master hasn’t told me yet.”

“You call your pimp Master? Now that’s a kink!” the woman said. “Are you into B&D?”

That’s when I realized I was with the whores that must have been part of the entourage. I guess I was either a whore now or a spy ... or both.

“I am into whatever Master wants me to be into.”

“Do you really like it, or is that the collar talking?”

I shrugged. “If I go around not liking what I have to do, it just makes things bad. What would be the point, then?”

“Is this your first time to Tokyo?” one of the whores asked.

“Yes.”

“Hi. I’m Betty. I’ve done this route just short of a half dozen times. I’ve never seen you around the company. Are you new?”

I was about to tell her my name was Peanut, but I corrected myself before I spoke aloud. “I’m Jess. This job is new for me.”

Betty snorted. “Job. That’s rich. We’re fucking slaves! Technically, whores.”

I shrugged. “Is there anything different about working here?”

“It’s different than turning tricks in the States, that’s for sure. Some of the Johns don’t even speak English. They just gesture with their hips, hands, or mouth to tell you what they want. One thing is for sure ... the ‘job’ involves lots of drinking. You’ll be having sex sometimes without knowing you’re having sex.”

Oh, wonderful. I did not consume alcohol with the exception of right before I got collared. Before that, I didn’t have much at all, either. I knew that alcohol would fit with my vegan diet as it was mostly plant based. Actually, now that I thought about it, I wondered if Master explained to anybody about my diet! I would have to be very careful. I couldn’t bear to have my body reject something I ate by mistake, insult some foreign chef, and create an international incident.

I knew that Betty expected a response. “That sounds interesting, to say the least, but how is that serving? Being a whore is being proud to be of service in her best way possible.”

The whore, Betty, looked at me as if I had two heads.

“Just act subservient. You’re instincts will kick in.”

Another whore asked me, “I guess you’ve been recently collared, right?”

“Uh ... yes.”

“This is your first time in Tokyo as well?”

I nodded.

“No wonder you’re scared, and quoting something you probably heard in indoctrination. You’ll get the hang of it.”

I wasn’t scared, and since I wasn’t a real whore, I never underwent any kind of indoctrination. I was proud to be of service to my Master. I hoped I would make him proud.


I was assigned a hotel room, but I shared it with five other whores. There were those paper separator things, and I found a nice corner and claimed it. I felt comfortable sleeping on the floor.

The other girls fought for the two beds. It ended up with two on each bed, and the other taking the floor as I did. She wasn’t that far away.

I heard her sniffle. I crawled a bit and moved my separator and saw a young girl that was barely seventeen.

“What’s wrong?” I whispered.

“Oh, don’t go pretending to worry about me.”

“Just tell me. I wouldn’t bother asking if I wasn’t interested in an answer.”

“Are you for real?”

I nodded. “Tell me what’s bothering you. Do you miss your Mas ... er ... pimp?”

The girl shook her head. “My husband is supposed to get me, but they sent me here and I’m worried he won’t be able to find me. I haven’t heard from him in a long time, and then somebody purchased my contract.”

“I’ve been there,” I said soothingly.

“I’m sorry. I don’t think I’ll make good whore material. Even with this damned collar.”

“Do you want to know what works for me?” I asked.

“What?”

“When you’re in service, just close your eyes, let your mind empty. You’ll still be doing it, but you won’t be worrying about it. You won’t get complaints at the very least.”

“Just accept the situation?”

“You can fight it, but it’s much easier if you accept it on your own terms. If your husband is able to buy out your contract he will. He’s probably still trying, but you have to be a good...” I paused here, not wanting to use the word I always referred to myself. “A good worker. Show them you’re up to the challenge. Don’t let your circumstances beat you. You can’t fight the collar.”

There wasn’t a reply for a few minutes. Then she said, “Uh ... I’m sorry. I heard this was your first time, too.”

“I’ve been collared for a few months. This is just my first trip to Asia.”

“Oh. What’s it like fucking strangers for money? It was horrible when I was forced to do all those things with my pimp. “Trying out the merchandise,” he said, as if I wasn’t human. He just told me what to do in the rudest way, and waited until I found myself unable to disobey him. He used this electric whip on me if I took too long, didn’t take enough of him in my mouth, or if I didn’t seem enthusiastic enough. Then he rented me to this company, told me he’d whip me if I don’t do a good job, and then left me at the shuttleport in the company of that guy over with the work tablet that used me under the guise of ‘quality control.’”

The guy she was referring to was a rather obese and repugnant old man that seemed to be running things. I overheard him badmouthing many of the whores, although he never seemed to say anything about me.

I thought back to when I was first reintroduced to Master. “Well, it wasn’t easy for me at first, and I guess it’s the same for everybody. What I would recommend is to remember you’re here to provide a service, and you’re representing your ... pimp, and the client ... the company. Try to dig some pride in doing a good job. That can really help. If you have to face your pimp or even your husband afterward, tell them truthfully you did the best you could. There’s no shame in that. You were hired for a job. If they ‘tried you out’ as you mentioned, they already know how you perform and shouldn’t complain if you honestly do your best.”

“I guess I’ll have to try. I am in deadly fear of that whip.”

I’m glad Master didn’t use such a whip on me! “How far has your bonding gone?”

“Bonding? Do you mean, being certified to handle money or something?”

It was clear that this girl didn’t have any idea about the bonding. Then again, Master sort of insinuated it might be something new he was trying on me.

“No ... never mind. I don’t think the ... Johns give you cash outright. We’re just assigned, or something similar. Probably by that old guy.”

The girl nodded. “I guess. Um ... thanks...”

“Call me Peanut.”

“I’m Jessica.”

That was interesting. We both had the same name.


The next day, we were given our assignments by “that old guy.” The girls on the beds seemed to get the first ones. Jessica and I were the last of all the whores to be assigned. The guy that seemed responsible for assignments gave Jessica to a short man with an intent look on his face. He shook his head, said something in the language, and pointed to me instead. Jessica got sent to the last guy.

I was told my customer was named “Jerry.” That was an Americanized name, I figured. I hoped I could get his real name so I could address him properly. I didn’t know Japanese customs, but I did know people paid a lot of attention for rules and procedures.

The name on Jerry’s door was written in those pictographs that made it impossible to figure out, or even if it was his name on the door.

He looked at me as I followed him into the office, and then simply waved me to the side of the room.

I went in the direction I was sent, removed my kimono, and sat in a half-sitting, half-kneeling position. Each arm was placed on my thighs with my hands on my knees. Nobody told me to do this, but it seemed the proper thing to do. It showed my status as a whore and I was available for service. I’m not sure where I got the idea, but it made sense.

Although I knew the Japanese had all sorts of rules governing just about every aspect of social interaction, I didn’t have any ideas what those rules were. I just did what seemed to be the right thing. I could always apologize for my ignorance and learn not to make the same mistake again.

I stared straight in front of me, and kept my breathing quite regular. There weren’t any people in my line of sight, and after a few moments, my mind was able to empty for the first time since I left America.

The trance broke when I heard some foreign words. I knew they were directed at me.

“I’m sorry, master. I do not speak the language, but I am happy to be of service in any way you wish.”

I figured that once I indicated I couldn’t converse, perhaps a translator would arrive to help.

“I said, I wonder why I asked for an American, but managed to get a soku. The whoremaster picked you last.”

Although I didn’t know what “soku” meant, it was clear from the impressed sound of his voice he was complimenting me. I needed to correct the man without being disrespectful. I said, “I believe I’m on the lowest rung of my colleagues. That’s why I was saved as the last one offered. If you are unhappy with your selection, I will beg the whoremaster to replace me for you, and beg your forgiveness in being so insufficient.”

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