1. Sloane

one

Sloane

" I , Sloane Parker of Earth, do hereby offer myself as a pleasure crew member for the year 2242. I acknowledge the parameters of my occupation as stated on pages twelve through eighteen of the Pleasure Crew Introduction Handbook. I have reviewed the handbook on my own as well as had parts I did not understand reiterated to me through a Straxion translator named Via Scorlandasa. This recording is my acceptance of the position starting today, June twelfth, 2242, at eight o' three a.m."

I pause and look at the note cards to my left, making sure I've said everything needed to complete my application. I hold the final card up in front of me, mumbling the words out loud to double-check I've got it all. When I'm absolutely sure my application won't be discarded because it's missing something, I give the camera one last smile and hit the stop button.

The video automatically uploads to the final step of the application and shows me a pending approval status. I've applied to work for this pleasure crew company for three years now, and this is the first time I've been asked to review the handbook and make sure I'm okay with what the job really entails.

Earth sucks. Like, really, really sucks. It was already going to the crapper before a hostile alien race invaded us, tried to enslave us, and a whole coalition of aliens came to the rescue. Not that I was there for any of that. It happened almost two hundred years ago.

I'm alive while the Earth is still in shambles. My job prospects are hard manual labor, which I don't want to do, or trying to get back into an office job that completely and totally sucked the fun and joy out of my life. Nope, I told myself I was going to get out of my office job, and my quitting five months ago just solidified that.

It also solidified the fact that I only had enough funds to support this endeavor for three months, but who's really keeping track of how long I can afford my apartment? Not me, that's for sure.

I had plans of not quitting until I was for sure hired on at a pleasure crew company, but I couldn't do it anymore. Waking up at five in the morning every morning to go to work for twelve hours is not the life I want to live. It's not the life anyone should want to live, but I don't judge. Some of my coworkers really seemed into not having a social life or time for hobbies.

Me? Well, I want to have time to just sit on the couch and read a book or watch some reality shows on my comm. I also have an inclination to enjoy being with alien males, so that helps with my job prospects, or at least I thought it would.

I've applied for jobs on other planets, but so many of them either don't want humans unless we're already mated to a citizen of theirs, or they want me to marry someone or participate in marriage or mating ceremonies to get residency. I don't have an issue with the second option. I'll get married to some sexy alien man and let him get me off this planet. Unfortunately, my application was rejected this year by every single planet I applied to, and new applications won't be taken again for six more months.

There are less reputable ways of getting to other planets, but those come with their own risks. I've heard horror stories of some women accepting the offers of transportation and then being sold into some weird alien sex ring, and that's not the life I want to live. I have no problems with sex work. Hell, I'm applying to do just that, but I want to do it on my terms. I don't want to be auctioned off to a whole bunch of aliens against my will.

I've just closed out of the application when my comm tablet starts to ring, and the pleasure crew company's name pops up on the screen. My heart sinks. There's no way they've already decided to reject me.

I've been given various excuses every time the company has rejected my application. The most common have been humans being too new, no species requesting humans, and, my favorite, the company not being sure if I'd be able to handle some of the species due to my delicate frame.

I snort to myself at the reminder of the delicate frame remark. I'm not a small woman by any stretch. I'm five foot ten and on the curvy side. The only reason I'm seen as delicate is that so many other species are enormous and ripped for absolutely no reason other than to make me realize human guys just don't do it for me.

I take a deep breath, force down my disappointment at already being rejected, and answer the call.

"Sloane Parker," I say as cheerily as I can muster.

I can feel the rejection bubbling up on the other side. I'm already preparing myself to have to crawl back to my old job and beg for my cubicle back. It'll be the worst, but I can always try this all again when new marriage and mating ceremony applications open up. No matter what, I'm getting off this hell hole so I can explore the universe—or at least one other planet.

"Yes, Miss Parker, this is Mrs. Scorlandasa with Pleasure Crew Enterprises."

I know Via very well. She's the one who helped me go through the handbook piece by piece so I'd know exactly what I was getting into. In fact, she seemed determined to make sure that I understood all of it and agreed to it. I thought that was a good sign because why would she go through all of that trouble just to reject me?

"I'm calling about your application numbered—"

I cut her off, not needing her to go through all the trouble of the formalities since we're basically friends. We've talked with each other for hours and hours. At least, I thought we were slightly above acquaintance. Via might feel differently, but really, she's not going to tell me we're not friends, so in my mind, we're great pals.

"Just rip the bandaid off, Via. Did I get the job or not?"

Via pauses for a moment. The silence makes me think she's arching one of her dark brows at me, her tail probably swishing behind her like it did so many times when she had to reexplain something to me for the tenth time.

Straxions look pretty much human, with a tail and a slightly larger frame. It's one reason Via was set as my contact with Pleasure Crew Enterprise. Something about most applicants responding better to someone who looks like their own species. Which is funny, considering most males who request a pleasure crew member won't look much like a human man.

"Miss Parker, there are protocols I must follow for onboarding all new employees."

"Onboarding…" My voice trails for a moment before I pull the comm away from me and squeal into the air. "Fuck yes!"

When I've composed myself, I press the comm back to my ear and try to pretend I'm not currently losing my shit. "Yes, sorry, continue, Mrs. Scorlandasa."

"A transport will be at your home in approximately an hour to pick you up." Via's statement has my whole body buzzing at the idea of getting off Earth so quickly. I'm already up and grabbing a bag to pack all my things before she continues. "The crew you're traveling with has two males that will need your services. As stated in your handbook, you may choose to offer your services to anyone on board, but are mandated to see to the needs of those two males specifically."

"Got it." I nod along, grabbing underwear and socks to stuff in my bag. "The same rules apply, right? I don't do anything I'm not comfortable with. If they go against my wishes, their end of the contract is terminated, but I still get paid?"

"That's correct," Via says. I doubt it's the first time she's had to assuage that fear. "These males come highly regarded. They're always kind and courteous and don't push for more than the female allows. I'm sending you information about their species as well as comments and ratings left by previous pleasure crew members who serviced them."

"Nice. You got me some good ones for my first go around."

"Yes, well, there's a reason we're asking you to go on this journey, Miss Parker." Via waits for me to give her my full attention, which means I stop shoving clothes into my pack and acknowledge that she's hand-selected me for this mission.

"What could I possibly offer?"

"You're a human," Via says, not mincing her words or softening her tone. "I'm sure you know, based on how many rejections you've received from Pleasure Crew Enterprises, we're not prone to allowing humans to work for us. Human reproductive organs have proven compatible with quite a large number of other species, which means human females are considered a fairly lucrative commodity. It's one reason Pleasure Crew Enterprises has been so hesitant to allow humans to work as pleasure crew members. You're more at risk than other species due to how easily your bodies adapt."

I should panic, but something about this seems pretty cool. I mean, I'm going to be the first human crew ever, it sounds like. That means I should hopefully get at least a good payday out of this first one, and I'm paving the way for other humans out there who might want to do this. "Do I need to do anything special?"

"Your job will be just as described in the handbook. The males you need to service come from a species that can become aggressive if more than one male is in close quarters with another for extended periods of time. Pleasuring them keeps them from hurting one another and the other members of the crew."

"Oh, joy, some guys with anger issues take me on a mission where they're… wait, what are they doing?" I can't stop my eye roll or the way it bleeds into my words. Does it stop me from packing my bags, though? No, no, it does not. Because this job will get me off Earth, and really, that's all I want. Getting to have sex with aliens? That's just a bonus.

"This crew does low-level runs on illegal smugglers for the Intergalactic Alliance. I believe this mission is the same as their previous ones. You won't be in any danger," Via says, her tone somehow more serious even though she always sounds like she perpetually has a stick up her butt. "We wouldn't have chosen you for this mission if we thought there was a chance you'd get hurt. We matched you with the highest-rated males in our system and had the Intergalactic Alliance sign off on it. We all want the first human pleasure crew to go well. You're our trial to prove that humans can handle being a pleasure crew member without bringing more trouble to the crew you're a part of."

"Oh, is that all? Just the fate of all of humanity's ability to sleep their way through the universe resting on my shoulders?" I snort at my dramatics before continuing, knowing Via is probably losing her patience for my theatrics. "So I'm guessing I don't get a cool laser gun, then?" I ask, a wiggle in my brows that Via can't see, but I hope she knows I'm doing it. It isn't the first time I've asked her if I get a blaster when I'm on a mission.

"No blasters for the pleasure crew," Via says in a matter-of-fact tone—again, the same way she's said it every other time I've asked. Except this time, I can almost hear a smile on her lips. "The last thing I need from you is your final verbal agreement to accept this job."

"I accept," I say before she can say psych. I don't want to give her a chance to realize I'm not the person you want going on any sort of serious mission, but that's okay because I'll figure it out. Worst case, I bang some aliens until I'm brought back to Earth and wait for my next call. "Wait, do I need to do the whole I, Sloane Parker, accept thing?"

"No. You just did it anyway, so it counts. I don't need the whole paragraph."

"So what next?" I ask, my body starting to feel restless now that I'm accepted for this job.

"Now, you get packed and wait for the transport," Via lets out a long sigh, and then I hear her typing on a keyboard. "I will alert the crew you'll be meeting with to be ready to allow you on their ship in approximately an hour. They're already waiting at a nearby station, so they should be ready to take you."

"Do they know I'm human?"

The last time I applied, the excuse for my rejection was no species wanted to use a human as a pleasure crew. My guess is that it was a lie. Then again, humans are one of the newer species who entered the Intergalactic Alliance, and there are still plenty of species who are wary of us.

When we first entered the Intergalactic Alliance, trials were conducted to determine the compatibility of humans with other species, but those results were preliminary at best. Even now, two hundred years later, some species are still weird about us.

"They know a human is joining them to prove that humans can be trusted on Intergalactic Alliance approved crews." Via's answer tells me all I need. They don't know the one servicing them will be human, and there's no telling how they're going to react to it. "The males you're going to work with have only ever had pleasure crew from their own species. Humans have very similar reproductive anatomy, so it shouldn't be anything they can't work with."

I groan into the receiver, not liking that I'm not what they want at all. Not to mention Via hasn't told me what species they are. So, my reproductive anatomy is similar to their females. That's not saying much. They could be two feet taller than me or have extra appendages or tails. Basically, what if they think I'm ugly?

"If they send me away, do I still get paid?"

"They won't. There are a lot of details that don't matter at all for the job you're being hired for. Essentially, the males won't care once they know you're anatomically compatible. They need someone to have intercourse with to ease the aggression they'll start to feel. They're used to relieving themselves once a week, so as long as you can do that, they'll be fine."

Once a week? This job is going to be significantly easier than I thought. I was thinking I was going to be getting railed multiple times a day since the pleasure crew makes it sound kind of like a never-ending party of debauchery. Once a week is a cakewalk if that's how often I need to have sex with them. Maybe that means they really won't have an issue with me being human because I can definitely have sex once a week.

"Any other questions before I alert the crew?" Via asks after a moment of silence.

"Not that I can think of," I say, flipping through everything I've packed and trying to decide if there's anything else I need to grab. "One hour, you said?"

"More like forty minutes now. I really need to make this call to the crew. If there's anything you need, just call me back."

"Will do. Thank you for helping me do this, Via."

There's a long stretch of silence during which I don't hear Via tapping her nails against her desk. I almost think she's hung up on me until she clears her throat, her voice sounding almost like someone with actual feelings. "I'm happy to have helped you. I wish you much success in your career with Pleasure Crew Enterprises. If there's anything you need, you have my contact information."

This time, she hangs up, and when the line goes dead, I stare at my comm tablet for a moment. I'm pretty sure she thinks I'm more than an acquaintance, too. How nice.

I scramble back to packing everything I could need. If things go my way, I'll never be back in this crappy apartment again. Which is good since I haven't paid in the last two months and am three weeks from eviction. Really, this opportunity came at the perfect time.

I grab my favorite books, ingredients for some dessert, almost all of my clothes, and the few pictures I have of me and my mom before she passed away. I smile as I place the picture on top of my clothes, tracing my mom's smile and how happy she was, even at the end. One last smile, one final middle finger to my apartment and the amazing view of the brick wall of the building next door, and then I'm out front of the building waiting for the transport to arrive.