”He held out his hand, “ID tags.”I smiled and tossed them across the table. He shook his head and thumbed them and then sat frozen. I leaned ove... the desk as the other passengers from the shuttle watched, “After I check in, you will report to me. Is that clear Junior Sergeant?”He swallowed, “Yes Top!”I took my ID tags back and headed for the hatch as everyone began whispering. I walked into Marauder country and walked into the battalion HQ for Stalkers. I smiled at the pretty Sergeant working. Still, I imagine her fingers on my body, on my breasts, between my legs. They would sculpture emotions, paint worlds of lust. I would like to be her clay, her canvas, so she can create whatever she deems appropriate with my body. I wonder what she sees in me and what she would do to me. Would she gently tease my nipples with a feather or spank my butt with her bare hands? Would she kiss me? Would she embrace me, hold me in her arms? Comfort me?She is a woman, and so am I.“Do sex workers take on. More

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