A morning commute

Outside the cafe and a few yards down the street, Quonnie fidgeted. The petite humanoid with mint-green skin was waiting for the **** taxi that would take her the rest of the way to her Master's satellite bakery. A man she didn't recognize lead a bent over Gavleth female past her. The **** owner paused a moment and examined the sluttily clad Ray-La. Qunnie nervously smiled back, resisting the urge to tug at the strings of her outfit. Attempting to cover her "pussy or tits" could lose her the privilege of clothing. The Gavleth tugged at her leash like an eager puppy. The man gave his **** a hard slap to her backside that made her moan into her gag, but continued walking.

To distract herself from the feeling of eyes crawling over her female form, she tried to think of an Earthling word for her Hera. The protrusions extending backwards from the hairless alien's temples were soft and flexible like tentacles, yet somewhat rigid, and they curled like rams' horns. Inevitable she settled on her Master's name for them, 'head handles'. Like most Ray-La, the hairless **** has tattoos: decorative eyebrows, colorful bands around her head handles, a rose that flourished from her left butt cheek to her right shoulder, and most importantly, 'owned by Jamis Brown' stamped around her neck. It was hard to notice under the leather collar buckled around her neck, but she knew it was there, protecting her. Aside from her collar, she had been given shoes and lingerie to wear.

The garment was made of straps that formed the outline an Earthling bikini with fringes that hung over her breasts, vulva and behind (though the strings covering the later usually collected between her round cheeks). The dangling tassels were usually enough to barely hide her nipples, (you could still see the tips of her barbel piercings shining through). But Quonnie's designated pick up for transport point was near a vent that would occasionally blast enough air to make the decorative strings dance away from her nipples and nether regions. Moreover, the cool air was making the Ray-La's nipples erect and soon the would poke out from between the tassels like explorers in a jungle.

This draft filled her with a longing to be at home snuggling with her master and tasting new recipes or at least, under his desk, answering statistical questions and pleasuring his penises while he worked. Unfortunately, it was her turn to work the stall.

Quonnie was grateful for the generous amount of clothing. While her Master had patiently explained to her that it was perfectly normal for slaves to be naked on Terrador (even Ray-La slaves), she still felt extremely embarrassed exposing herself. However, discomfort and pleasure are not mutually exclusive: a lesson she had learned quickly. The rebellious joy and base pleasure of wearing only strings of underwear in public more than counter balanced the humiliation she was suffering.

The young **** knew her prudishness was excessive, but 22 years of being told unnecessary nudity was the highest form of perversion didn't go away easily. She thought back to her enslavement, when the raiders boarded their passenger liner, and they were all "encouraged" to strip by shock sticks. Ms. Moles's (her then supervisor) was having her gentiles pawed by the brutes and Quonnie knew she would be next to receive the degrading inspection. With her career as an executive assistant over, the only thought she had was that her former employer was seeing her naked.

The **** taxi arrived on time. Looking like a lewd hover Segway, it was little more than a square plate for her to stand on with a bar extending from the center. Quonnie screwed her master's surrogate onto the top of the bar and stood above the penetrator with her fingers spreading her vulva open. The dildo extended into her until the copy of Mr. Brown's balls pressed arousingly against her clit. She was grateful for another of her master's gifts, the platform heels that gave her another seven inches of height. They were the kind worn by earthling stippers, but Quonnie couldn't imagine dancing in them; standing was hard enough. Nonetheless, without the tall stilettos her whole weight would be on the rod deep within her. Her arms were free, allowing her to balance.

Once she was secured, the **** taxi glided forward. The ride was smooth, but every time the vehicle accelerated, stopped, or turned, inertia **** her to rub against the phallic restraint. In these moments, she would gasp and adjust her footing in a slow dance around the immovable bar.

Frequently, the taxi lined up behind other cars to form a **** train. The slaves ahead of her were almost always nude, so the Ray-La was treated to a variety of shapely behinds. She felt pity for some of the slaves, perched atop spiked or electrified phalli. One poor Earthling didn't have a bar. Instead, the **** was held up by an anal hook suspended from a frame.

The tassels of her outfit fluttering in the air, she zipped into a tunnel. Dimly lit and grimy, the tunnel was only meant for moving property, but there were still unrestrained people along the railing, monitoring the goods.

As Quonnie approached her destination, she exited the transportation shaft and entered the more pedestrian halls of Terrador. Her vehicle dipped below the metal plates that made up the walkway, so only the impaler remained visible travelling along a crack. It extended to remain in her, and she had to scramble in her heels to avoid being dragged along by her vagina.

At the stall, the rod disappeared into the floor and Quonnie began undressing. Space was very expensive in this part of Terrador, so It was a small structure, little more than 5 feet wide. The left half was basically a vending machine and the right had a small space for the operator to cram into. Mindy, the Earthling Quonnie was to replace, was the tallest of Mr. Brown's slaves and had her own way of being fitted into the small space differently. Her long, ebony legs were frogtied, and her knees were pulled up to the stall's roof by chains, exposing her plugged anus.

All the products were prepared at the main bakery and delivered her by drone. The **** working the stall could add decorations but mostly made product suggestions. In fact, Mindy was explaining to two customers "the scream-cicle is a tasty way to punish a ****. It--"

"This is a reward not a punishment," interrupted the 7 foot alien of a species Quonnie had only read about before today. "Dumb cunt, you humans should know screaming is fun." She was heavily armored, on one arm. Otherwise, the Iah Kuruh was naked, exposing red skin stretched taut over lean, intimidating muscles. Quonnie made a mental note to inform her master of the naughty thoughts seeing the Amazon's large penis standing proudly and uncovered had given her. It was her duty as a **** girl, and the thoughts of the punishments she would receive only increased her anticipation. Across the Iah Kuruh's powerful back hung a plasma canon that looked larger than Quonnie, and in one hand she held a chain that was attached to a piercing in her naked ****'s vulva.

Tattooed with strange symbols, rude instructions and humiliating words, the **** meekly standing next to her mumbled something into her gag. It was a spiky bit-gag that had two chains hanging down to somewhat support her generous bust via rings in her nipples. "I know I blur the line sometimes," the red giantess replied, "but I won't reward you with something called a punishment." She looked over the machine's display. "What about a cum filled pussy? You're always eager to clean Pendulum's cunt."

"An excellent choice." chirped Mindy, "our patented pink pastry dough stuffed with a generous gob of either Human, Turnk, Varrus--"

"Varrus, that's your favorite, right Fuck Tits?"

There was a jingling of chains (and swaying of breasts) as the **** shook her head. The domineering demon sighed, "I meant besides mine." There was another jingling of chains as the **** gleefully nodded, making her bust bounce excitedly, her grin distorted by her gag.

Her behind received what was probably a gentle slap for the muscled alien but left a hand print almost as red as the hermaphrodite. "Your name isn't Kiss Ass," warned the giantess. Addressing Mindy, she added "Shop Bitch, two of those dough cunts filled, with Varrus jizz and a half dozen scream-cicles." Mindy hastily took the payment, her breath becoming heavy. Quonnie didn't know if it was the degrading names or the excitement that she would soon be used as furniture by their master that aroused Mindy.

The Earthling grabbed a straw and sucked semen from a storage tank while removing two pastries from the refrigerated compartment. Once the straw had been filled she released its contents into the artificial vulvas. Given how horny she was, Mindy probably swallowed some of the semen. She had once been denied orgasms for a whole week because she slurped down an entire quart of the supply on a slow day.

Before she had finished dressing the pink delicacies. a small drop of sperm dripped onto her thigh near her shaved crotch. Mindy was very skilled, but over her long shift such mistakes were inevitable.

Quonnie unlocked her co-**** when the Amazonian alien side-stepped to collect the rest of her purchase from the dispensary chute to Mindy's left. Naked save for shoes and a collar Quonnie could feel the monster's leer. The attention sent honey to her pussy, and her prudish side chastised her for being so perverted.

Tugging nervously at her collar as if she could make it cover more skin, Quonnie helped her **** sister out of the appliance. While the furiously blushing Ray-La presented Mindy the folded lingerie, she heard the unknown alien tell her mewling **** "keep up. I want to check out the auction."

Mindy didn't take the strands of clothing immediately. In stead, the long beauty stretched her cramped muscles while Quonnie watched, clothes in hand, gusts from the hover transports above her head making her shiver.

The Ray-La surprised herself with her next action. Quivering, the shy exhibitionist licked all the traces of icing, syrup and semen from Mindy's midnight skin. The pair received hooting and whistling to no end especially when Quonnie knelt to lick the drops of cherry sweetener that had been splattered on Mindy's knee and thigh. Mindy had done her best to keep herself clean but some parts of her body couldn't be reached by her own tongue.

There was a sizeable line of icing on Mindy's breast left behind when a dispenser nozzle had shot its load onto her. The creamy confectionery had slowly trickled down her soft skin until it dripped from her nipple and onto an undecorated dessert held under her breast. It was difficult to aim (especially with the nipple clamps) but customers were often understanding. Quonnie was rarely punished for mistakes. Mindy could usually lick the trails off herself, but the white decoration was still moist. Thus, it must have been recently applied, and Mindy probably had not yet had an opportunity to self suckle.

Quonnie rationalized her lewdness by thinking that she was only doing this to help Mindy. Quonnie knew just how tormenting an unreachable smear of the sugary substances could be.

Before leaving, Mindy helped Quonnie into the small stall. The Ray-La buckled the support belt around her stomach like a corset while Mindy cuffed the Ray-La's ankles. In a few minutes, Quonnie hung from the stall's roof, her feet (still in the **** heels) on either side of her head. Her arms were left free, so she could restock the stall when the delivery drone arrived or decorate products and insert 'Pussy-Dippers' when asked.

The final step was to attach the the wired clamps to her nipples and insert the plug, so it could shock her anus. It was very important that customers take out any frustration on her and not her Master's valuable hardware.

She settled in. It didn't feel unbearable to be naked inside the cramped stall. Customers could only see her moistening slit if they walked up to the window. Mindy had been watching Proud Oo'lick Queen II: Trouble at Court. The Earthling had paused the holo-porn with the naked Oo'lick queen kneeling and testifying with the judge's cum drying on her face. Though it was full of inaccuracies, Quonnie liked the tale of political drama and prison sex. During slow periods, she hoped she could resume watching it. After all, it would be hours until her replacement arrived. In the back of her, Quonnie wondered what outfit her master would allow her to wear home.