Of course, bitches always do what you want them to.

You slip into a shadowy alcove when you hear the footfalls of Kyla's approach.

A few moments later, the amateur criminal reaches Melodia. "Well, well, well," her tone betrays her smug expression, "what have we here?" The petite woman strides into your view. Her short, dirty blonde hair has a slight got-out-of-bed mess which matches the loose night shirt she wears. The wanna-be badass had pulled on a pair of boots and strapped a holster to her tanned thigh, but still looked woefully unprepared in her lacy PJs which leave none of her slender figure to the imagination. She continues her questioning without giving Melodia a chance to respond. "My traps are good, but they didn't truss you up like this. Are you an escaped criminal?" She pinches Melodia's nipple and tugs her forward. "Some horny bitch playing kinky games in the woods?" Kyla releases her grip on your ****'s tit and let's her sway back. "A **** sub who was packaged herself up for me? I would have preferred one with more of a package," she adds while reaching up to slap Melodia's shaved cunt.

As a droplet from Melodia's insatiable pussy sprays past your head, your fists clench in anger. How dare she suggest Melodia is anything less than perfect!? I didn't say she could dominate my sub!

"Wait," Kyla takes a panicked step back, "I saw you at Krubb headquarters; you're with that bounty hunter that brought in Chastity. Where is NatAAAAAAAHH!"

Kyla doesn't finish her question before you whip out an answer. Your trusty stun lash snaps across her upper back with enough **** to swing around and strike both of her tits in one blow. The failed bank robber's initial scream of shock and pain is interrupted by a more primal squeal as the stun energy surges into and overwhelms every nerve in her body. After helplessly gyrating for two seconds, Kyla slumps to a heap on the floor unable to move or speak but still completely aware. "You should have been nicer to Melodia," you inform her. "She'll be the one lubing up your ass."

Your attention returns to your dangling ****, and you decide to make her do a little dance for you too. Retrieving the Volt blaster that had hurried her along the tunnel, you give her a few tit taps until she is wiggling like a worm on a hook but stop when a more devious idea creeps into your mind. "You have ten minutes to get down and catch up," you casually mention. "Every minute after that is a day without masturbation privileges."

Motivated, Melodia flops around like a captured mermaid, trying to bend in just the right way to get the hand tied to her shoulder near the ankle cuffs. While Melodia struggles, you hoist the slender frame of your latest acquisition onto your shoulder. Kyla's flimsy shirt slips down to expose her upturned ass. It's an ass that, while not be as amazing as Melodia's, doesn't look half bad in her little thong. You give it a few approving spanks.

You steal another glance at Melodia who is now trying (and miserably failing) to swing and twist her body over to the traps control pad in such a way that she can reach it with the hand pinned behind her back. A chuckle bubbles out of you. "You look almost as silly as that time you went undercover on Kryptiod Station."

Your **** stops her **** floundering to groan. "Why do you keep bringing that up."

"Because," you explain while pinching her rosy cheek as you feel another flashback coming, "it's one of the few things that still make you blush."

"Are you sure we have to do this?" Melodia makes her final plea while tugging nervously at her blouse. "Couldn't I do something less degrading like begging to give a blowjob?"

"No I need eyes on the street not in his office," you patiently explain. You take another look out your ships view port at Kryptoid station. Though you'd normally compare its shape to a pine cone, all those tiny ships buzzing about gives it more of a beehive atmosphere, doubly so, if you consider it's residents attitude to visitors. Plenty of people on the corporate mega structure would charge 1000 credits to give a tourist the time of day. In fact, many have suggested the stations convoluted time zones were orchestrated for this reason alone.

"What about a street-side auction?" Melodia draws your attention back to her with a subtle yet seductive tit wiggle. "Remember publicly measuring my naked body to mathematically prove I was a sexy slut? You liked that. Or I could be the crazed nymphomaniac like that time you made a straitjacket out of tape and left me in that cage for days."

"We've been over this; those won't work," you remind her, brushing errant strands of hair out of her eyes. "You're a con artist; you'll ace this interview and be in that uniform soon enough."

"That's what I'm afraid of," your **** groans. She glares daggers at the want ad that started all this. For some reason Citrus Blast had decided to include a picture of the outfit they wanted their new "director of marketing" to wear. You can't imagine it encouraged any applications.

The bikini-esque clothing was clearly designed to stand out as much as possible on the busy streets. Among the stylish suits and practical business dresses, it would stick out like a sore thumb wrapped in neon ribbons. The most acceptable part of the garment was the top, a half-cup bra patterned like orange slices and held up by minimal strings. Melodia's amazing rack will get a lot of attention displayed in it. The bottom was an equally sparse grass skirt complete with a plume of peacock feathers that might be tasteful in the right setting. Things didn't really get bad until you looked at those gods awful boots. While not a student of fashion history, you would hope that those glitzy platform boots had not been fashionable since the discovery of FTL travel. But by far the worst accessory, worse than the cheap thorny leglet, loofah arm band, triangular bell bracelet, or tramp-stamp belly chain, worse in fact, than all those combined, is the hat. Its foundation was a Gainsborough hat reinforced to accommodate a landslide of decorations. A dried bouquet of tropical flowers and an obviously plastic fruit basket were the largest things stapled to the monstrosity, but there were over a dozen different ornaments clashing for attention atop the hat in some sort of fashion-nightmare king of the hill. Not for the first time, you consider equipping Melodia with a posture collar, mouth corset, or some other neck scaffolding to prevent the gigantic eyesore from snapping her head off.

Synthetic ringing announces the incoming call. Your hands trail across Melodia's body, smoothing the thin blouse she is wearing for the interview. They stop briefly at her nipples, teasing the nubs until they strain at the silk. Glancing at the preview image to make sure your not in it, you place a hand on her naked thigh. Covering her up with a shirt was bad enough; you wouldn't dream of doing the universe such a disservice as putting pants on your sex ****. The comm will only show her from the tits up anyway.

You tap the answer button, and a gangling middle-aged man with a Hawian shirt draped over him like a security blanket crackles in front of you.

"Mr. Balstak," Melodia greets him almost instantly. "Thank you for this opportunity to advance my career while helping you return Citrus Blast to it's former glory."

"Yesss..." he nervously states, "there is a few details to go over first."

"Oh?" Melodia's tone carries genuine excitement because your fingers started stroking up her thigh.

"Um, to be clear, the yearly salary listed in the job ad will be payed in stocks that are expected to reach that value once CB can expand back to an interplanetary restaurant."

This guy really sucks at bait-and-switch. Your face contorts to stow the disgust your experienced con-**** is repressing.

"Oh that's not so bad," she says as your fingers gently glide up her inner thigh. "Despite what some corrupt judge and a few disreputable media corporations say, I think Citrus Blast is poised for a comeback."

The wide grin of vindication shines across Balstak's face, but diminished somewhat after a moment. "May I ask why you put so much faith in our brand."

You stop caressing your slaves leg to squeeze her ass in much the same way you did before lining up your strap-on last night. "Mmmhh," Melodia gently moans and gets the faraway look of someone recalling fond memories. "I've always been a fan of the characters from the Citra-Blast commercials since I was a kid. In college, to practice writing, I wrote some um..." she breaks eye contact as she tries to clear her dry throat, "adult fan fiction." Delectable embarrassment smolders across her cheeks; the best lies have a kernel of truth.

To his credit, Balstak responds with an encouraging smile. "Well, everyone has their desires. It may interest you to know I was one of the voices for Mr. Apple."

"Really?" Melodia replies with rising excitement as you stroke up her thigh towards her pussy.

He nods before changing the subject. "Now then, the majority of your time will be spent on the busy causeway. Don't worry though; the outfit is reflective enough to count as a safety vest. I just need to be sure you can say our slogans loud enough to be herd over the crowd." A list of uninspired and awkward marketing phrases pop up.

"Kumquat-Ice, it's what a 20 tastes like," she says in an eager, seductive tone as the tip of your finger wiggles into her pussy like a fish swimming up the stream of her arousal.

Not bad, but she can do better. You pinch her clit hard causing a jolt of pain and pleasure to rock through her body. She screams "It's a dream to drink the thick banana dream!"

"Fruit-astic," Balstak cheered. "Though, your cheeks are looking a little flush. You'll have to pace yourself on those long shifts of gathering attention."

The interview proceeds uneventfully. Mr. Balstak goes over mundane details from Melodia's falsified resume; this is followed by going over technical details of Melodia's employment. She doesn't need any encouragement, but your fingers keep teasing her, mostly for your own amusement.

Some time after you've slipped a pussy slick finger up her ass, Melodia suggests "I haven't found a place to stay. Would it be alright if I stayed at the office for a week or so?" She follows the question by twisting ever so slightly to present her succulent rack.

"Of course. I know first hand how difficult finding lodging can be. I would be delighted to have you stay with me on the couches in the pear lounge."

Melodia sucked in her bottom lip and gently brushed it against her teeth before responding. "Spending the night in the same room as Mr. Apples? I'm the one that's delighted. See you soon."

A sheen of sweat forms on Balstak's brow. "Yes, I'll send you your schedule."

After the call, you tap Melodia's lips with your fingers and say "see it won't be so bad; you'll even be getting some dick." She nods before her tongue eagerly flicks out to taste herself. You let her enjoy the flavor before you stand up. "Now heel," you add leaving the room. "We don't have anywhere to be. Let's get you strapped in for some unnecessary blowjob training."

She follows you down the hall. A noticeable spring in her crawl makes her rump wiggle eagerly. But her giddy smile suddenly scrunches up to a worried frown. "What if he wants to have fuck while we wear the costumes?"

"Oh my sweet, innocent sex ****." A vile grin splits your lips as you picture Melodia steadying the outlandish hat while riding cowgirl with her usual enthusiasm. "You're going to suggest it."

"You'll never find it," says Kyla, trying to look smug with the armbinder twisting her sholders back. The effects of your stun whip have mostly worn off; she is no longer slurring her words like a Bantam drunk on aphrodisiacs.

"Yup," you mumble as you make one last check of her cave camp for loot you don't want to disclose to Krubb. There isn't any, but you find some lace gags in her underwear drawer that'll come in handy. "All I see is a perfect 5 foot cube of stone and a remote for a Temcon Teleporting Safe. I have no idea were you could have hidden those stolen gems."

Her lips pout as she realizes she may not be as much of a criminal genius as she originally. "You still need the code."

"My last performance evaluation from Krubb had things like 'excessive ****,' and 'did you really have to keep those clamps on the whole return trip' mentioned several times," you explain while setting the holo-recorder down beside Kyla. "So now I have to record my interrogations. Surprisingly, multiple people have made requests to study this session. Your friend Rachel from accounting specifically asked for a holo-tape of 'that cunt suffering' for some reason."

"I didn't betray anyone," Kyla protested defensively. "The Krubb Exchange doesn't care about its employees." Trying to stand, she sways from a sitting position to kneeling. "You can't trust them either, not fully. The instant you're not profitable, they'll abandon you."

You grab her hair and tug her back to the cold floor of the cave. To hamper further attempts at standing, you slap a hover cuff around each ankle and pull her legs out from under her. With a green glow the cuffs lift her feet up off the floor, forcing her to lean forward, lest she fall back on the armbinder. "You are being uncooperative," you state with uncaring malice to rival any bureaucrat. "At any time you can tell me the return code." Nervousness spreads across her face when her legs are slowly pulled up, but her eyes don't go wide until you wrap your fingers in a tight grip around the front of her thong. She thrusts her crotch as you tug the delicate garment until it digs into her naughty bits.

"I've got a fence that'll pay 3 million for the haul," she pleads. Panic makes her voice grow higher in pitch as the thin clothe starts to tear. "You can have half. Or, or three quarters."

It takes a twist of your wrist to snap the elastic bands a second later. You are equally quick to shove the scrap of pussy fabric into her mouth and follow it up with a ballgag. It's not a particularly fancy gag just a ball with a hole drilled through it for the strap, but it stretches her jaw and muffles her mewlings. "Don't worry," you say to the trembling girl too afraid to look away, "in my experience slaves have always been able to answer questions while gagged. They just need motivation."

Kyla's whimper is made all the more meek by the gag in her mouth. The hover cuffs continue their slow ascent until she falls backwards. She squeals as her arms and shoulders are slammed between her own weight and the uncaring ground.

"Speaking of creative sluts," you turn at the sound of Melodia hopping into your improvised dungeon with her ankles still locked in cuffs, "here comes my favorite." Smiling sadistically, you add "fashionably late too, isn't that sexy?" Even without an excuse to cause her misery, Melodia's arrival is indeed sexy. Each jump forward makes her supple curves and perfect tits bounce enticingly, and with her arms bound in that sexy rope harness, she has to do a mini dance to keep her balance after each jump. But you can't ogle her forever; there's work to do. "Start warming up her asshole," you order.

"With pleasure mistress." Melodia kneels down and leans forward until her tush is high in the air her face is buried in Kyra's slender ass. In addition to tugging your captives legs up, the hover cuffs also pull them apart, creating a nice 'V' for Melodia to stuff her face in. The only stop when her ass is raised a foot and a half off the ground and only her shoulders and head remain on the cold stone. All throughout their ascent, the soft sounds of analingus remain strong; Melodia is pretty damn good after all. While her legs were being lifted to accommodate more anal **** Kyla's panicked gaze darted between Melodia between her legs, and you above her, desperation creeping into her eyes.

After digging through your survival satchel to pull out a double-ended dildo, you rub one tip on Melodia's cunt until it is dripping and she is thoroughly worked up. The eager slut moaned with disappointment as you pull the slick toy away. You pull her up by her hair and chide "don't be such a drama bitch. You'll have one end in your mouth soon enough."

The freshly lubed end of the dildo slides into Kyla's anus without too much fuss. The dildo doesn't put up much fuss anyway. Kyla screams into her gag and wiggles her tight booty at the intrusion even though you're only pushing it a few inches past her sphincter. Four clamps hang by wires from the dildo's middle; you pinch two to each side of Kyla's pussy lips, and naturally, the little bitch whines about that too. Melodia moved out of the way while you worked, but eagerly wraps her lips around the dildo's other end the moment you're finished.

Kyla immediately tries to grab the dildo through the mono-glove. Despite not being able to get a good grip, she is able to slide the double-ended toy out of her anus and deeper into Melodia's eager mouth.

"That's a good anal whore," you compliment. "but don't forget to thrust it back in. Feel those round buttons all along your half? Well, 95% of them need to feel your sphincter every 15 seconds or..." You pause, hoping you got the timing just right.

An agonizing electric shock surges through Kyla's cunt clamps. She cries out in pain and thrashes violently.

"... Or that happens."

The silly slut wastes a few seconds catching her breath before desperately trying to cram the cock back into her ass. It gets three-quarters of the way in before she is **** to endure another torturous shock.

"I can up the voltage or reduce the time if your stubbornness gets annoying," you explain while peeling off your leather uniform. "No need to worry your pretty little pussy though. If your tongue is as good as those nasty office rumors about you suggest, you'll be able to stay on my good side." Now naked, you strike a sexy pose for the holo-recorder before strutting over to and descending cooch first onto Kyla's face. Your crotch grids into her face until the ballgag is nestled in you pussy.

Unfortunately, it seems you're doing all the work which is unacceptable for a domme sitting on someone's face. At least you have a pair cute tits in front of you to play with. You pinch both her nipples and twist them until she squirms with enough vigor to rival a sybian. "Remember what I told you about staying on my good side?" you ask only slightly relaxing the tit ****. "The ball in your mouth can roll." To her kinky credit, Kyla immediately gets to work and shows some real oral talent. Her tongue makes the gag glide and gyrate in wild and wonderful ways. Soon it'll be coated in your juices.

You sigh contentedly gently massaging the soft breasts before you, but ready to slap them should Kinky Kyla slack in her mouth duties. The tongue slut beneath you is showing great enthusiasm in that department, and her bound hands are doing their best to jam the dildo in and out of her ass as fast as possible, much faster than needed to avoid the cunt shocks. Good, she's getting horny, that will make this interrogation all the more easy. Maybe not as challenging as you'd hope, but you'll punish her for that too. A mixture of ice in her tight cunt and hot wax on her perky tits will easily get across your feeling of disappointment.

Between Kyla's legs, Melodia stares at you with pleading eyes, the dildo's other end fucking her mouth. The next stage of your bondage threesome will have to involve her being punished too. What excuse will you give while stretching out her holes with your electric strap-on? Having the sexiest rack in the whole galaxy? That's a good start. You'll prove it with that new symmetrical docking shibari you've been dying to try. Granted, she'll get some hot wax on her tits, but that'll just be another reason to punish the greedy pain slut. Upon seeing your lips curl with sadistic delight, Melodia moans her approval. You lean forward and kiss her cute nose. You know being this sentimental tarnishes your reputation as a ruthless bounty hunter, but sometimes you just can't help yourself.

Ah, what the hell. What's the point in being a villainess if you can't spout off philosophical drivel under the pretext of a monologue. "You're right you know," you say slapping Kyla's ass so she knows your talking to her. "When push comes to shove Krubb will worry more about their bottom line than having my back. In fact, something like that already happened just last week, and yet here I am. I count on something much more precious than an employers fidelity." Your eyes focus on the tiny glint of jewellery between Melodia's legs.