OOC: ...then my computer finally died. Had to buy a new one - sorry for the wait.

The talk about her career coming to an end definitely upset him. He didn't say a word about it, but to any showmaster like her, it was obvious. The body language was a dead giveaway, followed by how the eyes unfocused ever so slightly.

"That so." he spoke at last. "Well, if you have trouble reading anything, just ask around. Most fellers on the workers' quarters appreciate you humans coming around to have fun every now and then and wouldn't try to give you reasons to stay away."

He waited patiently as the drugs continued to work on her, repairing her body in what felt like a time-lapse video. Her beaten-open, cum-sodden cunt began to close up and within moments, it was just a petite slit. It wasn't visible, but she could feel her muscles toning up to close her butthole too. The drug worked inwardly as well, calming down her rapid-fire heartbeat as her oxygen debts were all paid off. Sensation began to return to her fingertips as he handed her a towel set to help her wipe away the still-twitching remnants of his seed from her face. Most of the streaks crumbled apart as she wiped them off, only a few needing more scrubs to clean. All through this, the eyes watched her - moving just like a crowd, admiring her nude body.

"Well, go ahead and use the shower when you can walk." he pointed to a door on the far-end of the room. "Me, I guess I'll be working all day since we took a little vacation after I clean up the mess we made. Gotta cover my bases is all..."

Another pause as he began to think.
[color=#80BFFF]"Right, shall I escort you to the station, or would you prefer to take a look around the workers' quarter first?"

OOC: NP it's happened to me enough times glad you're back



Daphnee felt her body recovering. Muscles stiffened up feeling tighter rather than loose. Even the cum came away with ease for the most part. Flaking up after it had dried. She felt it clinging to her skin as she moved and knew the spots that she missed. More or less she simply settled on her face for now. Particularly her mouth, nose and eyes.

All the while he watched her though she felt that her words had an effect on him. Something he didn't want to consider. She knew the reality of the situation. Unless her species went extinct there would be someone to replace her eventually. Especially as she aged though that could be years or even decades from now. She didn't know of all the procedures and medicines that would affect youth. There were incredible means of healing and replenishing lost stamina so there had to be stuff to reverse aging right? Then again that took into account how vain humans were about such things. Did aliens have such notions or declined in the same way? She surmised they had though she couldn't say she saw beings in such a declining state.

There were plenty of beings of advanced years but for their species they were young. She didn't recall seeing any of advanced age at her shows, though they could have been towards the back of her audience or she didn't recognize them as such.

Sitting up Daphnee felt relaxed. Her heartbeat calming as she brushed her arms and torso down with a quick swipe of the towel. She'd get the rest in the showers.

“Cheer up. I wouldn't put it past my owners not to clone me or something. I'm not up to speed on all the scientific advancements of the galaxy being from where I am.” Even humans had some success with cloning. Still there were few humans in the galaxy that she saw so there could be restrictions on it that she didn't realize or likely something that a clone just couldn't provide.

She considered his question. Getting through the area without an escort could have unexpected challenges. Then again announcing who she was should keep her out of trouble too. She was uncertain if others wouldn't press their advantage. She'd be hard pressed in telling many aliens apart after all unless she dealt with them often or they had some form of distinguishing feature that set them apart.

“I'll be alright on my own down here?” More of a question. She stood now, stretching out then casting a glance toward the shower. “Contact your boss. Let me speak to him or her. I'm sure I can get you the day off. Particularly a being of your talents.”

She smiled. Fingers lightly brushing across his torso as she moved toward the showers. “Be a dear and bring in my clothes after you clean up here.”

Given the state she was currently in it didn't make much sense to soil her clothes with a touch. Whether or not he joined her in the shower was another matter. She attempted to be quick but thorough. Scrubbing all the spots she could reach while those drugs continued to work on restoring her body.

"I think your talents and willingness to use them is what makes you so much more than a cloned human." he admits as he cleans up after her, a few of the tendrils plucking away the last dregs of cum still wriggling on her body. "And even if your bosses did clone you - they can't copy your personality. Which is most likely why they take such good care of you. And it makes your shows that much more exciting."

He waited until she stepped away from the bed before continuing to replace the sheeting, replacing the soiled bedding with a fresh one before he brushes up her clothes and arranges them on the bed. The eyes look longingly towards the shower as she takes a shower, but he doesn't move in on her. When she steps out of the shower, the eyes all refocus on her completely replenished body, admiring her perky and well-toned body for a moment. He hands her a towel, and points to her arranged clothes.

"Your clothes are over there. And yeah, if you do let them know who you are, you might get mobbed by your fans. I think you should just act like any other freelancer who comes down here and you'll be able to walk around just fine." he nods. "Most guys down here understand that if they get a reputation for hurting or killing humans, the freelancers won't like working in this place and everyone loses out, so I doubt you'll run into any problems down here. Still, don't hesitate to call the owner of this vessel if they cause you any trouble."

When she asked him to contact his boss, a subtle shudder of nervousness ran through his dense torso. "Uh, wait... I don't mind working a little extra. You don't have to go that far for my sake."

Daphnee nods at that. Something she had not considered. In the dark about so many things she knew that clones were an empty vessel of sorts lacking experiences of whom they were cloned from. Too much exposure to sci-fi had her thinking that portions of her mind could be copied considering all the marvels that she had witnessed. Still there were limits, and it was good to hear that the galaxy at large wasn't so advanced. It would explain the lack of clones and robots for the most part.

Even though one could place a clone through their own experiences the essence of being from Earth, those experiences of early life would be lost. That couldn't be replicated.

Her shower is refreshing. By the time she finishes all the dried and not so dried cum is cleaned off. To her surprise the shower contains an abundance of soaps. Was such normal among aliens or were they prepared for the aftermath of entertaining a guest? Either way it does not matter.

She masks the scent of sex. All the while she feels numerous eyes watching her. Though not giving him a show she does wipe away any condensation from the clear divider to give him the best view. Returning to the bed she dries off in front of him. Nice an slow. Her hair is still damp but this would do.

Dressing Daphnee considers his words. If they knew who she was then it could be bad leading to being hassled. Then again she still could be approached as unlikely as it was. Assuming that she was a freelancer especially one not seen before might grab the attention of someone though not forced into doing something she could be pressured to an extent. At least that was her thinking on it anyway.

Noting his nerves at the mention of his boss. “Very well. Can I at least get your name? I don't know when I might be back on this ship but I'd like to look up a being of such incredible talents. And of course there's the distant future too,” she grinned mischievously. Green eyes dipping to take him in slowly.

Afterwards with or without that name she excuses herself attempting to find those shuttles and return to the upper levels.

When she takes a moment to admire the collection of soaps arrayed out on the shower rack, he lets out a nervous laugh. "Oh yeah, those. I bought'em when I signed up to work here since there's word that human freelancers occasionally show up here. Never thought I'd end up entertaining someone big-time like you."

The myriad eyes watch her as she gets dressed, only unfocusing when she spoke to him directly.

“Very well. Can I at least get your name? I don't know when I might be back on this ship but I'd like to look up a being of such incredible talents. And of course there's the distant future too,”

For a brief moment, he pauses - his posture reminding her of how fans would behave on earth when asked questions by their idols.

"... how rude of me." he curls up and plucks out an identification card from under the table. "Giths 66152 - Worker, third class. Uh, I guess asking for where you'll be holding your next show is too much, isn't it?"

The language on the card was different, but there were three maroon stripes on it, along with a snapshot of his central torso embossed on it.

"Well then, I too will be on my way." He walks alongside her as she leaves the dormitory, then heads out towards the massive loading bay and elevator in the center of this workers' dormitory.

-

He was right. Seeing a 'freelancer' in these parts must be a regular occurrence as all she got was eager glances as she walked by. The towering security staff - their full-clad armor a dull hue of blue, rather than the verdant green topside, followed her motions with those deep-set eyes of theirs, but aside from this cursory inspection and a very subtle nod of approval, they didn't ask her for papers or get in her way. Most of the workers didn't mind her presence as she walked around the dorm's balconies either, and down to the main street. A few curious ones followed her to take a closer look, but couldn't cross the language barrier or simply lacked the organs to speak with her. A few others waved at her, hoping to get her attention.

Daphnee smiles as she takes the card. Viewing it she isn't surprised that it's in an alien script. Some of the characters look familiar but she can't read them. The name is unusual, not that she'd expect it to be Fred or something. “Giths 66152.”

The name sounds more like a designation. A clone? A slave? It could be as simple as a species name followed by a number to differentiate one from another. It could denote a hive species too. Who's to say. She doesn't ponder it much more than committing the name, number and title to memory.

“That isn't too much to ask.” She immediately responds. “I'd have to look at my tour schedule and had a bit of time off.” She wouldn't bore him with all the details as how she came here in the first place.

“It's easy enough to contact this vessel if I am unable to find that out before my departure.” Seeing that one of her owners had been present she assumed she could find out. She guessed she had a little time off seeing that she was taken here and there was all the choreography that she put in between shows. Honestly she never checked those things outside of knowing how much time between shows so she could partial out her time preparing.

She walks with him out of the dormitory. Things go remarkably well as they part. She isn't mobbed nor does security get in her way at all. The hulking figures stood out. She wondered why their uniforms had been a different color than the ones above. It could be as simple as different sectors having different colors or more complex in that they were to shadow her and had been the personal bodyguards of Master. She didn't linger on it much. Most of her brain power had been dedicated to finding her way and simply taking in the sights.

She waved and smiled here and there. Doing her best to pantomime and communicate with the aliens she didn't understand. Not only was there a language barrier but a cultural one so it wasn't often that there was any success. Once she figured out that one wanted an image of her she thought she was recognized. The device was unusual but she had long since learned that they had been equivalent to phones.

She had wandered around enough to get a general sense of her whereabouts. On the way back to the shuttles that took them down her she encountered more beings waving to her. Daphnee debated with herself if she was truly recognized or not. The few images could have meant nothing. That or those that knew didn't share that with others for whatever reason.

“Well hello there,” she greeted a rather enthusiastic three armed alien. The thing had three legs and three eyes around the circumference of it's body. There were others around too though she hadn't encountered any aliens that spoke any language she knew another than Giths and didn't think that would be the case now. So after that she headed back towards the shuttles unless interrupted. Attempting to figure out her own way back for now since she wasn't in a rush.

Her outfit helped her blend in, looking the part of a freelancer who was just doing her rounds. Aside from a few cases where she was ignored - their body language showing nervousness instead of spite, she had plenty of conversational partners as several of the workers were all too happy to point out the station for her. Her relaxed demeanor helped her appear no different from the few other freelancers who worked here. A surprising majority were english-literate, one worm-like mass even surprised her by speaking in German, although it was clear he had just picked it up. A pleasant smell emitted from the ridges marking his 'upper body' as he began to converse with her, happy to have had the chance to practice some German with Daphnee.

"So, you're a freelancer, right?" he asks, after some small-talk. "I can tell you're new here since I haven't seen you here before. How was your first day working here?"

As time passes Daphnee grows more comfortable here. The aliens don't swarm her. They are better behaved than she imagined, though a compliant might ruin what they had set up here. She doesn't know of the arrangements, how they are enforced and so on so she really doesn't dwell on it.

It does prompt her in taking her time. Drifting about as she takes in the sights. Most she finds understand her, many of those unable to speak English. Some might not have the means or have never learned. As she continues on away from the three legged alien she is surprised when she hears a phrase.

At first she dismisses it as words meaning something else in another language. She looks though on instinct. More words follow that make sense. Not telepathy. There is sound even though she doesn't recognize a mouth. It could be beneath the “jaw” of the worm. If it were telepathy the words would be crisp, wouldn't they? Her German hadn't degraded to such a point.

Still she smiles. Answering back to ensure it was German.

Daphnee dismisses the how's and why's about it. Unusual, yes, seeing how she wasn't using that language … had she been recognized? It would have to be a super fan that delved into her past and studied her native dialect, even though she was born in the United States it was the language her parents used when they were around. She actually had to teach herself English as neither bothered with her enough.

“Oh, it went well. Better than I expected.” Though it wasn't in her knowledge bank until a short while ago. He could be pretending not to recognize her or she could have been over thinking things. Doubtful that anyone else spoke German but she supposed there could be a telepath around.

“Everyone has been so behaved. I thought I'd have far more trouble getting around or pressured into things. Outside or recalling what deck I came from but I'm in no hurry in getting back. Oh, wait, I think there was an officer party up on that level.”

Daphnee doubted she'd stop by now. She had far better fun here and taking in the sights here had been far more appealing. Watching aliens and getting a better read on them was more useful to her than dealing with possible belligerent drunks. Even if they were well behaved she guessed they'd have a sense of entitlement that the common worker didn't have.

"The officer's party, huh." the mass of finger-like worms shifted around, revealing no eyes whatsoever on the silky smooth skin. "I hear they had a bit of trouble when one of the freelancers fainted on stage."

After a pause, it continued.

"You know how some of them are, right?" the lengths peel out and reform into a denser cluster of tendrils. "Sometimes they want to earn money so bad that they get to doing things their bodies cannot physically handle. Now you, you look like someone who knows how to have fun without pushing yourself too far. If you go up to the barracks level and just introduce yourself, I'm sure you can get a good gig going with them."

"Or..." those slots lining the uppermost segment almost looked like tiny sails when he opens them up. "If you prefer the crowd down here, then that's fine too. How much do you charge for your services?"

Daphnee considers. How much of it is the freelancers pushing themselves and how much might it be officers thinking that their entitled to having more she cannot say. Though judging by the standards down here she surmises that they don't get away with pushing those limits. If anything they might be kept to higher standards seeing that they're officers. She cannot say for certain, nor does that matter too much.

While she wants to question the sort of trouble they got into she doesn't.

“I've had plenty of training. Mental and physical.” She doesn't explain the alien techniques she had been taught. Daphnee was use to keeping her body going even after her mind checked out. She preferred to be aware of what was going on and learned to pace herself.

Nights with her Mistress, a lengthy alien abduction that lead to a three day long sexcapade along with her shows certainly helped in that regard.

Still being pushed to the brink of exhaustion doesn't sound half as fun as pacing herself here. She files away the fact that the barracks has a level so she could find herself back approximately. She was in no hurry after all.

Price comes up and she raise a brow then smiles. It dawns on her that he has no clue as to who she is. Maybe he had a bit of empathy and tapped into the fact that her native language was German. Perhaps he was studying because Daphnee spoke it not even realizing she was right here. After all a pair of glasses made Clark Kent unrecognizable, mainly because the people around him didn't believe that they were in the presence of Superman. Sometimes people's own perceptions could be used against them.

“I really don't keep track of that. My managers figure all that out. I'm off the clock and free to do as I wish.” A small clue. She didn't say pimp and would let him digest it. The smile lingered on her lips though she didn't see any eyes.

“Am I to believe that you are interested?” As far as she was aware the ship hadn't arrived yet. If it had she hadn't been paged. After her latest ordeal she was unsure as to how much she could handle but all that could be negotiated had he indeed shown interest. Small details had to be worked out, then again she had an idea.

“How much free time do you have?”

“I really don't keep track of that. My managers figure all that out. I'm off the clock and free to do as I wish.” A small clue. She didn't say pimp and would let him digest it. The smile lingered on her lips though she didn't see any eyes. “Am I to believe that you are interested?”

"I am, actually." the small creature admits as he gestures her to follow him. "If you are free, then I'd like to hire you for a while - especially so since you have this feel like you'd be fun to talk to. Or if you'd like to earn some extra money, I'd like your help manning the bar. Easy job - just deliver drinks to the customer and keep them company....oh."

Mid-way through his conversation, the clues she left for him click in. His voice, once so relaxed - tightens up, dropping several decibels.

"Wait, you just spoke fluent German. Then you said managers." Daphnee could almost see the blood drain from the upper mass, the central segment swelling out in response as the creature's heartbeat raced - the lower jaw gulps visibly. "It couldn't be, right? Are you Daphnee Von Heinrich?"

He keeps his voice down, toned just so to avoid alerting anyone else. The small upper tentacles quivered with excitement, or was it fear? It was hard to tell.

"I'd like to make sure..." it recovers after a few seconds. "And since I don't usually see things like humans do, is it alright if I touch you?"

That was unexpected. Daphnee assumed he'd be more direct but it seemed that he wished for her to work and not entertain. Of course the later was there, she didn't miss the lowering of his voice as he trailed off. As far as she could gather she'd serve in attracting attention to his business and if she wanted to indulge from there she'd be free to do so.

She glossed over such details. Customers would probably wait, the novelty of having a human on staff would generate business. There was probably someone or something else present too. She'd find out. She hoped she could recall how to translate text, she'd figure it out in little time she surmised.

Walking on it took a moment for realization to hit him.

“Why would it not be? Stranger things have happened. And is this not one of my manager's ships?” Another smile. Daphnee allowed hi to digest things further.

She could deny his request. Giving some doubt to her claims. As true as it was that he had no eyes, a stark contrast from the alien with a plethora of eyes. She could only guess at all the means he could see. Touch would add to these other talents.

“You still have doubts? OK then. You may touch though take care not to damage my clothes. I don't have any spare clothing and while I can no doubt get more it would be a hassle.” At least in so much as going about naked until she could get her hands on some.

Tsyua went around in the nude though she was in the presence of another and had some protection for her well being. So far the aliens were well behaved but Daphnee didn't know what was the norm and what was or wasn't allowed for the most part. Not that she couldn't get out of a situation by dropping a few names it was best to avoid needing to in the first place.

“You still have doubts? OK then. You may touch though take care not to damage my clothes. I don't have any spare clothing and while I can no doubt get more it would be a hassle.”

"Ha, if I was gouting acid from my pores, you'd smell it first. Besides, it's rude to destroy things freelancers have, right?" he (it?) chuckled, sliding closer on wavy motions that reminded her of how oceanic flatfish would move. The palps touched her legs, then moved on up to feel her thighs. A subtle clicking sound emanated from the tip of those warm, slick lengths although they left no residue on her. Ribbon-like lengths coiled around her hips as it slowly climbed up her body, surprising light for its size. "Well now, flesh and blood too..." the voice drops into a whisper, moving for skepticism to awe as the lengths slid up her skirt and across her stomach.

For a moment, he seems lost - focused on fondling her breasts and stroking the small of her back while smaller tentacles carefully coiled around her neck. The creature's heartbeat(s?) thudded hard along the visible veins of the central mass of tentacles as the lengths feel up her face, carefully feeling out her facial profile. He pays particular attention feeling out her neck and feeling out her scents.

"Well, this is one thing I never expected to happen when I woke up today. You're-"

He's cut off by someone walking by. "You two get a room already!"

"Right, um... so, miss, what'll ya pick? Business or pleasure?"

Those movements were surreal. Similar to animals she had seen on documentaries but never in real life. Daphnee doesn't have too much time to dwell on it. Nor does she process just how he'd identify her if he saw in a different way. Sex dolls made in her image? There were so many scan and adjustments made throughout her career. She had plenty of merchandise out there. Some she knew about, others she had no clue. She didn't deal with that sort of thing.

He/it curled around her like a snake albeit there was no constriction. The touch was gentle. Generating a warmth between her thighs as it climbed up higher. Wrapping about her hips, vanishing beneath her skirts.

Her nipples hardened beneath the attention she received. A small moan spilling out of her lips. It seemed distracted as attention came to her neck and face. All the while the fondling of her breasts hadn't ceased.

“Gawd.” she gasped. Blood caused her nipples to pulse in response.

For a moment she had forgotten where they were. What they were doing. At least until a voice cut in. Someone that was jealous? As best as she gauged he must not have wanted to watch if all he was going to get was a case of blue balls. He must have assumed that she was a freelancer and to join in would cost him credits he didn't have.

Green eyes glanced over the alien. He could have asked nicely to join in. She didn't seem to e recognized and inviting him to join would detract from her fan's enjoyment she thought.

Still she was over thinking things. Thankfully she was saved in making any sort of decision about that as a question assailed her ears.

“I told you that I'm off the clock. So pleasure.” She answered with a smile. Allowing herself to be lead away. She wanted nothing out of this other than bestowing enjoyment upon her fan. Word of mouth was a great way to stay relevant. Even if stories seemed far fetch the fact that they could happen would garner interest in her fan base. That you didn't need a ticket to one of her shows. That even the poor had a shot under the right circumstances.

"Pleasure it is, then." the diminutive creature nods as strings of reddish-black colors swept out of its pores to feel out the walls. Definitely blind, which tied in to those lumpier tentacles now working into her clothes. Some of those threadlike tendrils wrapped around her upper body, holding the squirming mass in place as an unusual organ within its depths began to click away, using her body almost as a walking stick of sorts. "Thanks, by the way. I was thinking you'd probably charge several organs-worth of money to even touch you."

He rambles on as he points out which way to go. "By the way, I've been meaning to ask, do you know why some freelancers charge a lot of money, while others don't? As far as I know, none of the humans who work around here have any kind of outstanding debts."

As he guides her through the shadows of what looked like buildings welded right into the walls of this habitable area, he picks out a small dorm and taps the control panel up front. It's a small room this time; no bigger than any budget motel room on earth. Just a small bed, a stack of old machinery and a single booth that looked like a horizontal shower.

Those tendril-like lengths in her top carefully brushed against the tips of her nipples as he invited her inside. The layered thudding of the hearts in the creature gave away just how aroused he was even as he tried put a facade of casualness in his conversation.