by Gabi Moore
She walked out into the room to find a woman covered in tattoos and sitting next to the vinyl chair. Eglise was there too, but he’d changed back into his tailored suit and sat on the opposite side of the chair. The woman had a small kit open and wore latex gloves on her hands. Monique counted twelve facial piercings on her face. At least she’d been through it too. She wondered how many piercings the woman had you couldn’t see.
“Monique,” he said, “this is Jordan, the best body piercer in the country. “I employ only the best. Are you ready to take the rings?”
Monique looked at the woman called Jordan and wondered why she seemed so familiar. She smiled at her and took out a small bag out of her kit. This was the rings for her nipples. They were silver in color, as Eglise had told her, and vacuum packed in a surgical pouch. They weren’t too big, but she would have a hard time wearing a bra with them.
She sat down in the chair and he held her hand. “Are you ready, Monique?” he asked her. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. The job will end, we will find you some clothes and you can return home.”
She thought a minute and then noticed the tune the piercer hummed. It was the same one Mrs. Carpenter hummed around the office! This had to be her connection to the agency. It was amazing where they found their field agents.
“Yes, Daddy,” she told him. “I’m ready.” She took his hand and held on tightly. Damn, this better be worth everything.
“You’ll feel a little bit of a prick,” Jordan told her as she took out her tools. “Then you’ll feel the rings slide in place. It won’t take long and you won’t have any discomfort if you hold his hand tightly.”
She was wrong. Monique gripped his hand so hard she almost broke it. And it hurt like hell for days.
A week later, she woke up to her employer’s face again. Thank God, he decided on not giving her a labia pierce as he’d mentioned before. The nipple rings had finally healed and she liked the sensation when he tugged on them. Eglise hadn’t said anything to her yet about what her extended duties were going to be, she expected them to involve servicing multiple men, but all for the agency. Once again, she reminded herself what Mrs. Carpenter had endured.
“They look so nice on you,” he said while touching the left ring. “Does it still hurt?”
“Not much,” she let him know. “So when do I begin my other duties? All I’ve done since starting to work here as tour the estate with you and lay about in my room. Then you come and make love to me all night long. The next day it resumes. I thought you hired me as entertainment.”
She rolled over on her side and went back to sleep.
Monique found it better to walk around the house naked after her pierces. It took a good week for them to heal; she was told by the piercer who showed her the many ones she had on her body. She counted at least twenty she could see although the piercer. She said she had many more, but Monique didn’t want to see.
“Skin is very elastic,” she had told Monique. “In fact, you can consider the upper layers of human skin to be elastomeric. Do you know what that is?”
“No,” Monique told her. It was the day of her first piercings and she hurt like the blazes. Now some chick with a needle gun wanted to talk about skin? What the hell did she talk about after she pierced a clitoris?
“It’s a substance that tends to go back to its original shape after it’s been stretched. Like elastic, Y’know? I had a guy I pierced tell me that. Want to know where I pierced him?”
Monique didn’t, but knew she would be told one way or another. “Where?”
“His taint,” she told him. “Right below the ball sack. Nice silver ring. Did a Prince Albert on the head of his dick. You know why?”
God, those damn things hurt! “Tell me why.”
“His wife wanted to keep him locked up when she was gone.” Jordan was in the process of putting her tools back in the bag. The numbing cream was last as it was the first thing she put on her victims, er, clients.
All of the sudden the pain was gone. Now this was interesting!
“She wanted to lock his cock up?” Monique said. Could you do that? And why had no one told her before? There were a number of asshole boyfriends she had in the past who could’ve benefitted from this! “How do you do that?”
“It’s easy,” Liana continued. “All you have to do is get a frenum piercing and one to match it below the balls, usually around his taint. Then all you need to do is run a small lock through both rings. You can get these tiny locks used for luggage that work just fine.
“Doesn’t that cause some problems down the road? I mean, what if I do want to use him for sex?”
“Then you unlock him and take the frenum ring out. You need to put the frenum ring back in place or the hole closes after a day. Works fine for me. I’ve got a man I play with every month I keep locked up most of the time. He knows he has to be real nice to me or no release.”
Jordan finished with her tools and placed them in the bag. She chatted with Monique for an hour as they waited for the car to come and get her. Monique saw her to the door and kissed the piercer good-bye. She was a fascinating woman who had pierced many rich and famous people. She told Monique about some of the famous people she’d done, which surprised her. From the way Jordan talked, plenty of famous people had trouble when they passed through airport security. Including a movie star whose husband had to make special arrangements when they passed through airport security.
Monique received her first internal message from the agency a few days later. She was out on the patio sunning herself in the cool air of the mountains when one of the servants brought her something to drink. She had drifted to sleep in the sunshine after taking care to layer sunblock over her naked body. The rays were not so intense that time of year, but prolonged exposure to Sol was never a good idea. Monique once bumped into a woman on a beach who lived for the sunshine. She’d looked down in surprise, as the contact resembled the feel of a leather briefcase.
She didn’t see who brought her the message since she woke to find a martini next to her with a napkin under it. She looked at the napkin and recognized the code of her supervisor back in Washington. On closer examination, the napkin was printed with a message that only she would understand. Someone made certain to get it to her. Monique leaned over the glass table next to her and heard the clink of her nipple rings on it. She read the message.
Someone of importance was about to arrive at the mansion. Someone the agency wanted to use as an example of how the aliens had broken the treaty. It didn’t say whom, but it did say she was a public figure at one time who they needed to contact. The agency wanted the world to know she was being taken advantage of in the mountains. This should help the government uncover the alien plot to match human woman with alien men from outer space.
Monique looked at the message, memorized the critical parts as she’d been trained, and dumped it into the remainder of her martini. She watched the ink fade away as it made contact with the alcohol. Now there would be no evidence of her contact, unless someone happened to see it earlier, which she doubted a possibility.
Her nipple rings felt much better now and she hardly noticed them. Eglise still liked to play with them when they made love at night. He only slept with her every few days, as there was so much business to which he had to attend in the mansion. Monique, now that she fulfilled her role as hostess for the new women who were brought in to match with the aliens, found herself busy as well. She would put on a light robe, greet all the new women, and go over the arrangements for the matchmaking service the mansion provided. Although she’d never been off-world, Monique had no trouble describing the home worlds and answering any question the new women might have for her.
She’d settled into the job better than she thought possible and looked forward to it every day. This was in sharp contrast to her real job, which was a constant battle with superiors and co-workers over who was up for a promotion that month. However, this assignment was supposed to brin
g her to the attention of the top level of the agency. She already had her front desk picked out in the office she was supposed to get once she moved to the ground floor.
But there were days she watched Eglise walk out with the other alien men and ignore her. It pained her she only saw him a few nights, even if it was just part of the mission. She knew the day would come where she would be forced to abandon him and return to her official role. This was just a cover; she had to remind herself. Identify too closely with your assignment and it was easy to be sucked into it. The agency was filled with stories of field agents who went crazy because they could no longer tell the difference between their assumed identity and the real one. She would lie at night and stare in admiration at Eglise, but tempered it with the knowledge of what could happen to her if she didn’t stay in touch with her contact on the inside, whomever that might happen to be.
Monique laid back in her deck chair and tried to remember if she had anyone who was supposed to arrive today. She couldn’t recall if anyone was supposed to be here or not. Last week’s match went over very quick and without trouble. Once she introduced the farm girl from Kansas to her prospective mate, the match took care of itself. She was concerned because the girl was just eighteen and virgin. She came from a broken home but her ultra-religious mother kept her away from boys until the day the woman was hit by a transit bus. The poor girl saw one of their coded ads and contacted them for an interview. Eglise put everything he could to bring this one into the estate for an interview. At least she had some knowledge of her own sexuality and didn’t think the off-worlders were the product of demonic manifestation. One weekend at the mansion and she was ready for a trip to a local justice-of-the-peace. Not too hard to imagine why: a life being pampered in an off-world colony or a life slinging burgers to truck drivers while caring for fatherless children. Not much of a choice.
Then the initials hit her like a meteorite: Anita Finn. She had talked with Eglise earlier that week and was somewhat surprised to hear someone who was so public in her career would need the mansion.
Anita Finn was a former adult video star who was on several pilot TV shows before her career faded. Monique remembered her from the cable access movies she used to watch when she didn’t think her mother knew. She was beautiful with a lovely crown of red Irish hair and that matched the landing strip on top of her pubic area. She had creamy white skin and dreamy green eyes. The supermarket magazines would often feature her paired with some rock star or movie actor and mention she was open to all marriage offers. The boys at her school who stole a look at her on the video channels claimed she was as perfect as they could hope for any day.
Then her star faded and she was no longer the flavor of the year. Monique sat on the deck chair, a towel under her bare ass, and tried to remember why she was no longer the hot item she’d been ten years ago. The public’s taste changed every so often and Monique wondered if Anita Finn wasn’t victim to the demand for fresh faces every month. Only a select few ever lasted and the churn was terrible, she was told, on women who performed sex on video. This was true for hardcore or softcore.
It was something to do with a scandal. Then she remembered. Anita’s earlier videos were shot when she wasn’t legal. She’d been a desperate teenage runaway who used an elaborate fake ID system to get work on videos where she couldn’t legally work. No one found out until years later when a TV show exposed her and the sleazy mother who helped her find fame. Her earlier videos were exorcized from the Internet and the people who had the unfortunate circumstance to see them conveniently forgot they existed. Even the ones on DVD were sent immediately to the trash, lest anyone possessing them be found guilty of owning illegal videos. However, this was only a small part of her overall work.
But the shadow it created cast a black cloud over everything else she did. Suddenly no producer wanted to have a thing to do with Anita Finn. Several people went to jail over their stupidity and people remembered it for a long time. Everyone in the adult video industry regarded her as toxic and would have nothing to do with the woman. Her career vanished into the ocean. Monique read somewhere she’d done a few slasher horror movies under a different name, but couldn’t remember the titles. It was years ago she even saw her name mentioned.
Monique wished she was allowed Internet contact, but the only connection was in Eglise’s office and it was off-limits to everyone in the mansion. Only Eglise was allowed to use it. She could find a way into it, this was not hard to do with her training, but Monique wanted to save it until she had to call in an extraction. All it would take would be the right code and an entire assault force would show up to get her out of the mansion, but best to save that one until she needed it.
Monique stepped off the patio and walked across the travertine stone that lined it. The stone was cool on her feet, but it was excellent for the patio since it didn’t absorb heat, or so she was once told. She stepped out into the cool grass and went over to look at the fountain the workmen installed last week. As she walked around it, she noticed one of the groundskeepers working on the flowerbed. He was paid not to notice anything, she understood. It was part of the contract Eglise had with the company who provided them. They weren’t supposed to notice or stare at any of the people who worked or visited the mansion. The workers were paid well, Eglise made sure the money they earned went to them separate from what he paid the referral company. She had the same arrangement, although Monique was at a different level and considered one of the staff. She watched the small man expertly replant a flower and go about his work without raising his eyes to her.
Monique wiped her feet off at the doorway and saw the latest match cuddled up with her lover in one of the parlors. She was a small woman from Chicago they managed to place with a Torzinite man from one of the colonies they had outside the solar system. Monique watched them sit there on the couch and talk. They seemed so into each other, she wasn’t sure how well these women did long term in the off-world colonies. From the few women who had returned to the mansion after leaving Earth, they didn’t have a lot of trouble. The issue was more in loneliness and missing things they remembered from the world they left. There was the entitlement issue as well: once a human woman learned she could have anything her heart desired from her Torzinite mate, they tended to expect it. This created a bit of tension in the newlywed interspecies couples. The Torzinites were in touch with marriage counselors on Earth who had some experience dealing with rich families.
Monique stopped by the mirror and looked at her nipples. She would need to put a little rouge on them later to bring out their contrast to her dark skin. Funny how a person adapted to not wearing clothes. Other than a thong, she really never wore anything. She didn’t have any clothes other than a casual robe. She meant to ask Eglise what they did in the winter. The snow would pile up deep in these mountains and skiing in the nude was not her idea of a fun activity.
After she walked away from the couple, Monique wondered just what the hell the government had against these women marrying Torzinite men. It wasn’t as if the government had done much to make a difference in their lives. Most of them had a decent education, but nothing for the future. They had dead-end jobs where all they did was push paper around all day. Matched with an off-worlder they could leave Earth and live a luxurious life they could never have on Earth. And be with a man who cared for them.
Monique hadn’t seen Nossa in a few months. She was allowed to sleep with him too, but he seemed to have other concerns outside of the mansion. She’s spent several nights sandwiched between him and Eglise. It was the closest thing to heaven she could imagine, but triads were as rare on the Torzinite worlds as on Earth. They didn’t have any moral qualms against it, but women were so rare in their society it was almost never encountered.
She wondered how the Torzinite women were accepting the influx of human women into their society. She’d asked Eglise about it and he just shrugged his shoulders. So far, she’d only met one Torzinite woman who was considered to be some ma
triarch. She was a regal woman who had several young men with her in attendance. Monique noticed the way the Torzinite men with her never once turned their back on the matriarch and made sure she had every comfort she needed. She was interested in birth statistics, Monique remembered, and spoke to her through a translation device. She watched some TV in one of the lounges and seemed shocked by the amount of women versus men on Earth. She went nude in the mansion, but found it amusing Eglise made her and the other human women go natural.
Monique decided that she would do everything she could to see Anita Finn was placed with a Torzinite man. Although the government wanted her as some kind of expert witness, she was sick and tired of sending coded reports at drop points about the women who passed through the mansion. To see these women leave and sometimes return so happy made her question her place in the agency. If there were sinister reasons the aliens wanted the women, it wasn’t evident to her. She’d watched a Torzinite-human couple even play in the backyard with a young child who was no more than nine months old. The child possessed the features of both species. What harm could there be in bringing both groups of humanoids together?
She suspected if the women of Earth knew what they could have off planet; it would bring down the government of every country in the world. It might even bring about the end of the human race. Women would desert Earth and leave the men with nothing. Earth would find itself in the same situation the Torzinites had endured for centuries. Somewhere, a person of authority had decided it wouldn’t happen to Earth. Well, fuck that. She might have to spy on the Torzinite matchup mansion, but it didn’t mean she had to ruin the lives of people who just needed a little happiness.
