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Rouge On Display

I

The Gallius.

Space trekking ship capable of interstellar flight. Magnet for seedy entertainment, gambling, and shows. Hosted by the young, brash, "heir to the family throne" Don Galliant, a rabbit of seemingly average stature. . . with his clothes on, anyway.

And now, Rouge's new "home." That was stretching it, though. God, one job goes wrong and now she was wrapped up in all this? A month ago she'd attempted to rob the Gallius, run a job that was typically out of her usual expertise. See: jewels. Instead, political and business opponents to the Galliant name wanted a select data chip which had, whatever, something valuable? Rouge was in it for the payday and lavish lifestyle. What she got was trouble, and was now riding off her debt by attending to another set of "jewels."

The long and short of it was, she was Don's "attendant," more or less a glorified concierge. He was young and he knew what he wanted. When security brought the bat to him, his eyes flicked to her chest first, and the rest was history. She could get into the legality of the whole thing, but that was moot. The Gallius, a long spear of crimson metal cutting through the starry skies, was like its own sovereign state. It could operate under its own rules, enforce laws, ignore others, blablaba. A roundabout way of saying Rouge was now indebted to Don for her attempted crime, and had to pay it off.

"Ey sweetheart, round o'drinks my way, eh?"

And this was part of it. Rouge's heels clicked along the casino floor as her plump, juicy tits bounced and wobbled with each step, by design. She was prettied up, strutting along in a bodynet of white with matching silver anklets and bracelets. Her modesty was "covered" but just barely, and the heels were made in such a way to force her fat bottom to wobble with each sway. She forced a smile, her glazed lips curved into an annoyed smirk, doing her job.

Yeah, this was part of it now. The gallery floors were massive money siphons, where casinos, diners, and clubs littered the floors to pull out as much tourist money as possible. Rouge was on the upper floor - Diamond Lounge, the one where she had to play the flirty girl with clients who wanted lots of eye candy. In one hand she propped a glimmering tray for drinks, serving her customers. But only as a visual toy.

Now, that wasn't to say Don was a generous mind that prohibited sex on his grounds or possessed some haughty value system for the working girl. Find a body you liked and pay your way, the rest would take care of itself. It was only that Rouge was his, or so he emphasized. Yes, the young rabbit had all the makings of a hungry fella, what with his cock enhancements and appetites, and he liked Rouge the way she was now: nake as the day and serving his clients, making him money. But when all was said and done, and so long as the debt was there, he made it clear to her: he owned her pussy, and he'd be the only one to have it.

The nature of their relationship wasn't completely new to Rouge, you did a lot of things to survive as a wanted thief. But, she had better things to do, like steal precious valuables than serve as a prettied up cock-sock. But so long as she was on his vessel, under these "laws," she had no choice. The white leather collar with the diamond heart around her neck was as good as a leash. For now.

In the meantime, she had a 'job' to do. "Right away sir," she said, keeping her disgust hidden and voice sultry. She offered a few finger wiggles to the oafish walrus sitting in a round corner seat, attended by two other equally half naked gals.

She returned shortly thereafter, leaning over the offered table in a promiscuous manner, setting aside one glass filled with a clear liquid married to a slice of lime. Her fat breasts, only cupped by the fishnet lace, wobbled in little shakes as she did, her mouth curled into a small smile, the bar lights catching on her black lipstick.

"Whatsa' a pretty thing like you doing by her lonesome? Order a round for yourself and join the party, eh sweetie?" gruffed the walrus, licking his fat lips.

"Oh, sorry hun," Rouge returned, straightening up, "I'm on the clock."

She could see the hungry desperation in his eyes. At the very least, Rouge did get a kick out of tormenting the lonely sorts getting their rocks off in the Diamond Lounge. They were used to easy, and she wasn't. . . kinda'.

The walrus sputtered a few things, his tone surging with angry frustration. He wanted her bad, but couldn't. Don was quite particular about that too - his security drones and thugs kept a close eye and anyone who roughed up the boss' prized pussy was in for a whooping.

So, she turned, sauntering away, tossing her hips and ass in a taunting little display, enjoying herself somewhat.

Her return to the bar was met by the keep, a grim looking wolf fella' with a modified prosthetic jaw. She tried not to get too friendly with him. The moment she got back to him, he gestured with his hand.

"You've got a show ordered. On the pole in ten."

Rouge hid an eye roll, flicking aside a white bang of hair. "Riiight."

Also part of her 'debt.' If she got tips as a waitress, that would go to what she owed. If she worked the pole, same thing. Other girls tried to comfort her by suggesting the fastest way to get cash was to sleep with plenty of clients, but one, Rouge wasn't allowed, and two, gross.

She made her way to the private space in the Diamond Lounge, where rich assholes could get their rocks off or whatever suited them. It was a glorified strip club in the back of the Lounge, save it was far more flexible and got you a lot of "mileage." Rouge was barely a few feet into the dimly lit arena of poles and dancers and her wide bat ears already picked up sounds of throats choking on cock or fat asses slamming on dick. You didn't even need a room, though the "VIP" section allowed you a bit more. . . freedom.

Rouge prepped in the back with some of the other entertainers, girls she didn't really know, not that she was making it a habit. How they came to be on the Gallius was not really her concern, but they all worked for Don in some capacity. A vixen, a thick bottomed squirrel, a bunny, unknown to Rouge. As the bat "prepared" for her show, in the corner of her eye, she thought she saw a figure of pink. . .

The floor show was routine for Rouge at this point. She was a fancied up stripper and set herself to the pole, bending and flaunting along the neon lit floor against the beat of selected music. The other girls had their own floors, but made it a point to come closer to the bills flying their way. For them, the idea was to get saddled in with a lap that would drop money on more dances, drinks, and a back room to fuck them silly. For a close grand, if you found the right guy. Rouge, however, was allowed no such thing, even as she spun around on the cylinder of thin metal and winked to intrigued parties. She could take the bills, but nothing else - just another way Don was keeping her "close."

Still, she maintained a personal thrill of being so "off limits," like a rare gemstone. Those poor stiff cocks in the audience would probably dump their life savings for a lap dance, but the Don's word was law, so they could just watch.

The lights flashed over her skin, catching the white fishnet lace, though her modesty remained hidden. The Don was particular about that, to the point if you wanted bare tits, you had to pay hand over fist. Other girls were no slouches when it came to dance and routine, but Rouge's "untouchability" made her a desired item, and some fellas (and ladies) couldn't settle with "no."

When her stage show was done, she'd made a nice stack of bills, but it was snapped up fast by Don's debt keepers, much to the bat's irritation.

"Can't ya' leave me a little?" she said, putting on a feigned pout. One of the bouncers, a big steed with augments, snorted.

"No."

If Rouge was on the menu, he would've buckled, but. . .

"Fiiiine. Next time, 'handsome.'" She said in such a way knowing there wouldn't be a next time, or a time, really, but it never hurt to butter up the hired muscle.

The muscle in question didn't budge, snorting again. "Boss wants to see you."

Ah. Yes. Of course. When her time on the floor was done, she had to "check in" with her generous provisioner of room and board.

"Can't wait to see him," she murmured. She retrieved a sling-purse and exited the Diamond Lounge to a personal elevator which would take her to the master suite of the Gallius, only accessible be a handful of approved individuals. . . not that Rouge was out to try anything.

In truth, there was something to this whole personal pussy pet business. He was heir to a wealthy name, inexperienced, and wanted to be balls deep in his latest acquisition. Fair enough. Made him soft around the edges, perhaps open to the acquisition of valuables. Rouge mulled over it in her head. Could she pull something off? Escape from her debt and make off like a bandit? Well, not right now. Anything dumb and she'd be snatched right back with nothing to show for, and the pseudo-laws of the star vessel could land her a permanent residence.

Besides it wasn't so bad. He was cute, and his 'enhancements' gave him a nice, thick dick she got to play with. Being a personal slutty playmate wasn't so bad, and Don wasn't cruel. He just knew what he liked, and Rouge had to say, he had excellent taste in women. Minus the whole indebted-to-him and at his beck and call thing, she could do worse.

The elevator pinged and she arrived at the Personal Deck of the Gallius, which was a lavish hall and a pair of sealed doors leading into Don's master quarters. Hall windows opened out to the vista of the cosmos, with the Gallius orbiting a local planet before it went on another system cruise. Rouge never stared too long, because the stars were overwhelming. Besides, she was the star here.

Once at the gilded security doors, Rouge produced a gold card from her purse that allowed her access into the private quarters. She flicked her bangs and hair, which she'd grown out at the "request" of her "master." She kept it trim most of the time, catsuits fit her better that way, but for a situation like this, she had to play the part of dutiful slut. Her ears were pierced too, accented with a pair of gold studs, enough that she could catch the light like a whorish treasure.

Sliding open, she stepped into the private Master Quarters of Don Galliant, which operated as both a control nexus and private escape. It had a circular desk in the center, fit with various control yolks to every part of the ship. The walls were equipped with monitoring modules, a personal stock of weapons, and a fabricator for personal use. Additional views were offered of the outside and of the Gallius, the sharp, crimson metal a bright, shimmering flank of red against the starry void.

There, staring out into it all, was the commander in question, heir to the Galliant name and fortune. Don was younger than Rouge, a lean young man with alabaster fur and modified gold eyes. In fact, mods were a part of his physique. His ears and body were enhanced with implants - not just for endless fucking, but health emergencies and strength too. Some of the girls at the Diamond Lounge murmured he even had mind control implants, which is why he got so many bodies to "work" for him.

Once Rouge's heels clicked and she entered the main quarters, the doors shut tight and his gaze flicked to her.

"Rouge, baby, there you are. What kept ya'?"

The bat rolled her eyed and frowned. She was allowed her frustrated, resistant cadence, despite her current loyalty to his cock.

"You'd know," she tossed back. She wiggled a finger in the air. "Workin' the pole, boss, making your money."

"That's my girl," he said back. His voice was young and smooth, like a whiskey you wanted to drink. And dammit all, he was handsome. If he'd just paid her and pat her head she'd be a good little whore, but, well, he wanted her all to himself.

"I know," he said, gesturing to a monitor on the wall. "I was watching. You take to it so naturally."

"I've done it before," she said with a smirk, taking a few steps. She knew he wasn't calling in her in for small talk, he wanted her tongue on his balls, among things.

"So it seems," he went on. "In fact, how'd you feel breaking in a new girl? She's a real fresh catch, got her in on a deal the other day. Sweet, but not used to floor work."

Ugh, really? Rouge had enough on her plate trying to manage the kid's cock, she didn't need someone to shadow her.

"Am I going to have time, boss? You like me on the clock."

More tits to fight with just made her "job" complicated.

"I think so," he said, low and commanding. He gestured with his hand and the monitor switched to a new screen. The girl in question was a curvy figure, with pink skin and hair and. . . oh. Rouge new the gal. She had some sort of control mechanism around her neck and her eyes looked dull as she stood idle but. . . yeah. That was Amy Rose all right.

"Huh."

Now Don looked at Rouge. "In fact, I know so. She'll be a, ah, trainee, so to speak. Trained with your techniques."

Don wanted to double dip his dick. Sheesh.

"And this goes to my debt?" Rouge said with a hand to her hip.

"Nope!"

UGH. Asshole. Rouge sighed.

"Wonderful."

"It really is, isn't it?" he said, stretching out his arms. Rouge mentally shook her head - if she didn't try something now, she'd be working for free til' the tits came home.

"Aww, come on boss, are you trying to replace me?" she said, voice softening. "You'll make me jealous."

She took another stop forward, her plush tits giving another bounce and wobble as the fishnet strained against her figure.

"Haha, really now? It bothers you that much?"

He was leading her on, and she had to follow. "Ugh. Of _course_sir. I want your cock all to myself." That was a half-lie. She wasn't _that_loyal, but then again, he did have a nice juicy dick for her, so she couldn't complain.

Don's long ears straightened, and his little rabbit tail flicked. "Weeelll, when you say it like that. I do have some time _just_for you."

Rouge faked a gasp, putting a hand to her soft lips. "Really? You'll let me play with your dick? Just for me?"

"I'm incredibly generous, miss Rouge, you should know that by now."

She already knew the time for foreplay was over, so she took the momentum into her own hands by sliding to all floors and looking up at her "master" in obedient fashion. Her thick, fat, buxom ass wobbled as she wiggled her hips, and the bat crawled her way over to Don. Her thick rump swayed, supplying jiggles and bounces to steal his gaze, until she reached his loins and gazed up at him.

He stroked her ears and hair. "What a dutiful little slut you are! How sweet. You'll give me a kiss because you love me so much, won't you?"

"Of course, sir," she purred, laying it on a little thick. Appeasing him was her most valuable asset right now. If he wanted his cock worshipped, she'd bow. It got her closer to freedom, and perhaps, the biggest payday she'd ever see. If she played her cards right.

For now, she unfastened the boy's pants, his tight, regal suit accenting his frame. The taunting zip followed as her skilled fingers wrangled them down, then his underwear, revealing a fat, plump dick. The thick, soft-hard cock popped out and swatted her on the face, his hefty, smooth balls accenting his malehood. He was smooth and twitching and wanting. Virile. Big. No doubt the rabbit's family fortune went into. . . all this.

"Aww, you missed me boss," she cooed, looking at him with a grin. Her soft hand gripped his hardening length, stroking in swift fashion.

"I think you missed me more. Go on. Tell me."

"Mmmhmmm," she returned, getting into her role. He was attractive, so there was that. If you were serving, say, the bulbous walrus from earlier, a gal really had to grit her teeth. Don? If she wasn't his personal property, she'd drain his balls empty, for the right price of course.

She kissed the tip of his cock, her black lipstick smearing the bellend. Again and again she did it, suckling the end. "Mmm. Mmmwah."

"I missed you boss," she said, rubbing his length with her spare hand. "I missed you soooo much."

Sloppy, suckling kisses kept on, over and over, her little moans and pecks filling the otherwise quiet chamber. Don stroked and pet her ears, moaning with her. "Ohoho, god, yes you did."

"I loooove this generous, juicy dick," she went on, adding fuel to the fire. Go on girl, she told herself, keep him out of breath, keep him wanting you.

She batted her green eyes, smooching the tip again, holding it in the embrace of her hot, sticky lips. She slurped loudly, rolling her tongue around it before releasing it with a loud 'pop.' Now Don's cock was hard, fat, and rock heavy, twitching with need.

"Aww, my poor baby," cooed Rouge again. "Did you miss your good little whore today?"

Don's face was hot and red, but he grinned at her all the same. "Mmf, Rouge, I'm getting the impression you like doing this, hehe."

Rouge wiggled her ass. "What? Of course boss." Another half-lie, half-truth. "My pussy is alllll yours. You can have me anytime. Especially. . ."

Her hands cupped his testes and she proceeded to kiss and slurp at them too, licking at the soft orbs in slavish fashion. "When your poor, heavy balls are begging for my attention."

Dan blew a harsh sigh, his breath practically steaming. "They don't call em' the family jewels for nothing, my precious Rouge."

Rouge gave a wicked chuckle, in that she was stealing something valuable. Work the boy's cock nice and good, be an obedient little slut, and perhaps she could come out of this whole thing with more than she'd expected.

She ran her tongue across the balls and lapped at them, letting the heavy, hot cock rest on her face. Drool dribbled down her chin and she serviced the smooth, tasty nuts, smearing them with black, shimmering liptstick, procuring another round of moans from her master.

Once finished, she drew back and let the cock tip rest on her tongue, gripping the shaft and smacking it hard against her lips, rubbing the tip all along them to create pleasant smudgy streaks on his flesh. "How do ya' want me boss? Fuck my throat or make a mess of my face?"

He was getting closer, she could tell, and Don laughed. "Ohf, can't I do both?"

C'mon girl, lay it on em' nice and thick. "Your cock could do anything, boss," said Rouge with another eye flutter. Given his possessive need for her cunt, she went in even harder.

"All those sad, hungry little dicks in the crowd want me _so_bad, sir, but my pussy is only for you. What a shame for them, huh?"

Don grunted. "Gmmrf, maybe we'll give the poor bastards a show, it's the least we can do."

We? Oh Rouge liked how he said that. He was just horny out of his mind, of course, but that was what the girl wanted. If she could suck and fuck her way to the top, she'd let the cutie rent out her womb if he wanted. If the bat could set her wiles on him and get Don to think differently, who knows where it could lead. . .

Rouge ran her tongue along the shaft, before slurping the tip once more. "They oughta' know who's in charge."

But with that, foreplay was over. She drew the throbbing cock into her mouth and started choking on the inches, letting it dive into her throat as she wobbled her against the thick meat. It bulged out her cheek, rivers of drool and precum flowing from her chin as her eyes started to water, making a mess of the eyeliner, her head sliding in sideways fashion, sticky smacks and lewd slurps consuming the surroundings like a sex hungry orchestra.

Once again she released it, smiling wide with her mouth agape and tongue hanging free, smacking the rod on her face with harsh, demeaning slaps. "Mmmh, need both cheeks." The length walloped both sides of her face and let off a perverse set of giggles.

"You're, huff, enjoying yourself I take it?" said Don.

Rouge rolled the tip across her lips, smirking. "How could you tell?"

Ignoring her predicament, indeed, Rouge did like a nice thick cock once in a while, and one so princely and young like Don did her in. Heck, she even heard that Tails fella' was packing a heavy arsenal, but she could never find out.

Again and again Rouge throated the hefty solid foot of enhanced rabbit cock, choking and gagging on the twitching carrot. Her motions ceased with the teasing and toying, delicate hands grabbing on Don's waist for support as she tossed her head on the flank of smoldering meat. Bubbles of saliva and precum trailed from her plush, glistening lips and long streaks of black smudged the cock, forming a little ring where her mouth paused at the base of Don's malehood.

Her face went rosy and her eyes flooded with tears, but she choked on the inches nonetheless. She at least had a little power here, drawing out her "boss," leading the way, servile to him but at least navigating_how_ she was getting fucked. The white leather collar around her neck strained, the throat bulge nearly snapping the thing off, Don's moans escalating with each motion.

"Ohhhfuck_YES!"_ bellowed Don, his head hanging back as his bunny balls churned. At least his peak burst, hands grabbing Rouge's long bat ears and fucking her mouth in relentless grinds as ropes of white seed surged from his tip. Rouge mumbled and squeaked in surprise as her mouth flooded with cum and into her throat and stomach.

"NMM!? Mff! MGGgglglkkl!"

It poured like a perverse river, pooling on the floor, Rouge's eyes fluttering from lack of oxygen until Don released her. The bat slid off his punishing inches with a loud pop while she coughed and sputtered, gasping gulps of air. Don's cock was still hard, a slimy pillar of their actions.

"Good. . ." he wheezed. "Good fucking girl. . ."

Rouge sniffed and wiped her eyes, still gasping, tongue hanging free as dribbles of seed and saliva trailed from her mouth. She was still on all fours, tits wobbling together, her anklets and bracelets ringing with each subtle movement like a bell on an expensive toy.

"Guess, nff, you wanted me to swallow," she coughed, feeling the sweet, sticky seed trail down her throat.

"I wantcha' to do a lot of things," snickered Don, collecting himself. The internal cybernetic enhancements and implants gave him a great deal of stamina recovery, as was expecting of someone of his status. Made sense if you needed to fuck a whole generation of potential heirs into a girl.

Once again, she stared up at him in demure, submissive fashion. "Mmm, just say the word, sir."

She flicked her eyes around the room in brief, wondering if she could snatch any valuables or means to aid her eventual flight from here. But before she could speak, and before Don could drop another horny quip, there was an electronic ping emanating from the young heir's control desk.

"Wha?" said Don, glancing behind him. "Oh for fuck's sake! Didn't they get the memo?"

"What memo was that, boss?" said Rouge, kissing his tip and sending shivers through the rabbit. "Do not disturb when you're fucking your personal cock sleeve?"

"Bah, something like that."

He looked down at his sloppy, messy dick and the dutiful slut still attending him. "Dammit. If they're bothering me now. . ."

Don attempted to pull up his suit pants, but the state of his twelver made that a little tricky.

"You need help with that?" Rouge simpered.

"Of course I do!" Don said, yanking up his pants and nearly tripping. "But. . . it's a red ping, so I have to look into this. Duty calls and all that annoying stuff."

Rouge sensed a chance. "Should I wait for you?"

However, Don wouldn't have his authority questioned. "Oh nooo, not letting you off the hook that easy, baby."

Goddammit, Rouge thought. She couldn't keep pressing her luck. Rather, Don had her chained to her desk with a nice diamond-studded link of metal, enough that she had to stick around and understand her position. She wasn't out of the woods, or even close to making headway. Guess she'd have to suck a little harder next time, among things.

As for Don, he attended his business at the control desk, and Rouge's sensitive ears picked up some of his conversation.

"Well how much. . . really. . .?" he'd say. "She's giving you that much trouble?"

Don ended the call a moment later, sighing. "Where do they get these girls. . ."

For now, their business was "concluded," Rouge still locked in her role as indebted sex worker. Still, she could do a lot worse, and there were worse dicks to play with than a literal heir. She just needed more time, more planning.

The Gallius continued its slow, droning orbit, the massive vessel a blitz of red and attractive neon colors, hosting an assortment of sordid affairs and activity. For now, Rouge's new home.