Archive for the ‘NSS’ Tag

Tales from Insilico — Suffering for Her Art

Read Part I here….

Read Part II here….

Caution:  some situations in this story, and some pictures involving nudity, should be considered NSFW/NSS

Jadzia lay curled up on the cot in the side room, seriously regretting every recent moment of her existence. This has to be the last damned time, she thought to herself as the nausea began rising up again.  As she edged her head over the side of the cot to find the hurl bucket, her mind went over the past twenty-seven hours of station time….

It had been over three months since she had finally paid off the “photo-etched” skin mod she had obtained at a “black” biolab; but the attention she had hoped for from talent scouts had never come.  Jadzia knew they were jaded in appetite, of course; they had seen it all and then some, it seemed, and you really had to be maybe a parsec out there now to even catch a glimpse from them, let alone get the attention of an agent.  But she thought this mod would have done it for sure!

There was only one thing for it — to try again, or to go back to selling herself in a different way.  Being a courtesan meant peddling her body, or at least certain portions of it, but being Shayana had paid the bills.  And she had been good at it, too, pleasuring both herself and her clients, and acquiring something of a reputation for it.  But you could only do so much whoring before something started seeping into your soul.  Remembering the peace she had felt that night in Atonement, the abandoned church-turned-club, Jadzia’s small core of self-pride asserted itself, and she resolved to try one more time.  She booked the appointment — not as obviously as calling a more reputable clinic to “set up an appointment,” of course — and showed up the night specified.

Read the rest of this entry »

Tales from Insilico — The DJ’s Freedom and Pain

Click here for Part I….

Caution: one photo below potentially NSFW/NSS

Some people felt that the life of a disc jockey — an archaic name for a job that had last seen a disc of any kind hundreds of years and a galaxy ago — was a mindless grind of cuing music files, fielding requests, and hoping that the boss would cough up the promised pittance, euphemistically referred to as “pay.”

Playing DJ at a club in Insilco

Jadzia begged to differ, at least while the music played.  To Jadzia, formerly Shayana the courtesan, the music was freedom, and the music was joy, and the music was escape from the blasted hell of the streets outside the club she worked at.  She was never more at home, never more comfortable, than when she was behind the music desk, punching up songs and mixing…. Read the rest of this entry »

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