Indigo

A/N: This is a little oneshot, although I have to admit it is sort of incomplete. Anyway it's just a little tiny thing. Warning, childhood abuse, so don't read if that upsets you.

Indigo

I was supposed to be a Sapphire Elite, above the Onyx, Rubies, and Jades, but below the Platinas and the Blondies. But evidently Elites care more about revenge than infants. I don’t know all the details, but evidently I was “ruined” in revenge. Instead of pure blue hair and eyes, I have navy hair and eyes. They are pure in color, but not the right color. I was to be sent as an infant to a Ceres orphanage, but I lucked out. The Platina who owed a series of pet clubs in Midas had accompanied my “parents” to the lab and thought I might make a good pet. Supposedly, I lived the first four years of my life above a pet club in Midas. I wasn’t anything—neither elite, pet, nor citizen. Then when the law began to investigate the situation, I was given to Jacques.

I know this because Jacques would tell me it sometimes when he was fucking me. He said that I was his good luck charm. Jacques ran a club in Ceres—an expensive club for a slum, one that aped the clubs of Midas. He put on “pet” shows, and I was the star. I had been since I was six. I’m also a prostitute of course. I’m probably the most protected and pampered prostitute in Ceres. I don’t “turn tricks.” I “have clients.” Jacques long ago figured out that by turning away 9 out of 10 potential clients, my price value would go up. Only those clients he’s observed with some of the other whores at our place get to fuck me. Jacques spies on everyone of course. Anyone who damages something of Jacques pays.

Jacques is a Midas citizen, but he’s also that Platina’s eyes and ears. I’ve never wanted to know the details, but it involves drugs. My life sounds pretty pathetic, but it’s not. Since I can remember, I’ve always had something in my ass. My body has adjusted—I have no trouble with shitting. My asshole, however, doesn’t quite close when it’s empty. It makes anal sex easy for me—I’ve never had any bleeding or tearing, not once, and I’ve had two cocks in my ass on occasion. I have to build up to that, of course, using larger plugs than normal for a few days until I’m ready.

I also love to masturbate in front of a crowd. Jacques ingrained that in me early. As a child, I got rewards for each time I came in front of Jacques or one of the staff. Jacques has cameras all over the club, so I got something even if I was alone, but I got more, the more people I performed for. It could be a new game or piece of clothing; cake, sweets, or some other food I craved; or just more time in the bath or sleeping in late—anything, but always something good and always praise and admiration.

By the time I was ten, I’d figured out the praise and admiration was often forced. Many of Jacques' other employees hated me, but they knew Jacques saw and heard all. Any one that tried to hurt me—emotionally or physically—was gone. They vanished and never appeared at the club again. I never left the club.

When I turned fifteen, I was prime pet age. One night Jacques closed the club to take me into Midas, to the club of that Plantina. He told me his name for the first time—Janja, and the club he owned was called Serendipity. The club terrified me although I hid it from everyone but Jacques until in the car returning back to Ceres. Jacques knew me too well to fool.

The sex going on in the club between the customers didn’t bother me at all—I liked it. Sometime we got a little of that in our club, but nothing, nothing remotely like the amount that was going on in Serendipity that night we were there. But, the pets working there had no names—just codes. I guess I could deal with that—no doubt they had secret names, names they only told to special ones, names that couldn’t be used in the club.

Serendipity’s pets could be ordered to pair with anyone or bought by anyone—a little scary, but no more than what most of the other performers in Jacques’ club had to endure. The pairings all were pretty normal—nothing involving a fetish that would upset any of the customers was allowed. I could work here without a problem. It worried me that a lot of the pets seemed to be doped up on some aphrodisiac, in a sort of mental daze. The performers at Jacques’ who took drugs to get through their acts never lasted.

It really wasn’t the club that scared me, it was the conversation of the pets there. The things I heard about the lives of the pets around me was what was really scary. I was valued—Jacques had made me the center of his world for the last eleven years. In Ceres, there wasn’t such a fetish for youth. You could work the erotic stage into your thirties if you wanted. If you got a cult following, you could work it well past that. Here, it seemed a pet’s life was short and fleeting. They weren’t special—there were always new ones. Owners could be vicious and cruel. Pets had been scarred by public whippings, beaten, sold as furniture and castrated—for things that were ludicrous like opening a box or spilling wine.

Castrated! I couldn’t image life without my cock. When I heard that story, I was so upset, I had to stroke myself to orgasm just to feel I still was intact. I had been circulating in the club wandering from platform to platform, listening to the talk from the tables around each. I’d smilingly turned down every offer I got. I looked good—my long navy hair was loose until it hit my waist. There it was gathered into five braids, so my hair wouldn’t cover my ass. I had a navy harness on that exposed my cock and pubic hair. The strap going over my ass held a cock-sized dildo in me, so I wouldn’t need any stretching for sex—it undid for easy access. I wouldn’t be a tight fuck for anyone without a large cock. I had a simple thick navy ribbon hooked around my throat. I didn’t stand out—many other were completely nude with jeweled collars that sparked and gleamed. But when I started stroking myself, I drew a crowd.

I’d moved away from the table were I’d overheard the awful story. I walked away, heart pounding, about to freak out. There was an empty platform in front of me. Evidently someone had just ordered the pet performing on it over to another platform. I leaped up on the stage—I exercised regularly in Jacques’ gym and usually added athletic moves to my act. I might have hesitated to jump up on a platform four-feet high, but I was in a bit of shock. I slid to my knees and then arched back so my head touched the floor behind me. I shut my eyes, not wanting to see this place, just wanting the comfort of masturbating and cumming.

But my hand wasn’t enough—I was really shaken by the whole club experience. I knelt up and unsnapped the back of my harness and pushed the dildo partially out of me, I could grip it and thrust it in and out of me with one hand while my other worked my cock. But fear was making it hard to cum—I wasn’t trying to be slow for the audience, I just couldn't cum. I needed it—I was moaning with need, crying a little—half because I was desperate to cum, half because I was afraid. I shoved the dildo back in me and redid the snap.

I sat down on the platform, my legs spread in a wide v, not a split. I leaned down—I’m flexible and practice this everyday—and sucked the tip of my cock hard while I worked myself with two hands. That was all it took, and as I started to cum I pulled up my head, letting cum hit my cheeks and chest before falling back and letting it shoot up like a fountain to fall wherever. As I lay there panting, rubbing my cum on myself, happy that I was fully functioning, I heard a voice say by my side, “Indigo, you’re much hotter than the last time I saw you at Jacques’. When did you become a pet?” I turned my head, completely amazed that anyone knew my name. But of course, it was Riki, Riki the Dark—what other pet would have been to a club in Ceres?

I didn’t know what to say to Riki—I was afraid to say I wasn’t a pet for fear I would be arrested and turned into one. Fortunately Jacques and Janja were there to distract Riki. Jacques ordered me off the platform, and I slid down. We didn’t stay—Jacques had us out in the car minutes later. Before he started the vehicle, he praised my performance and wiped me off. He reached under the seat and pulled out a large candy lollipop—the kind I often would get as a kid when I’d performed well. I started laughing and relaxed.

By the time I was home, I had explained why I’d panicked to Jacques. He told me he understood me and that my fears were normal. We’d come back early that expected, so I performed a few shows that night. By the time I went to bed, I was feeling pretty normal. I hoped my life would go back to normal. But unfortunately, I had attracted the attention of Janja and Riki. My days free from a pet’s leash were numbered.