EXCERPT

GALAXY PLAYMATES 4: XENA
By
Michelle M Pillow

 Chapter One

“I look like a tramp.”

Agent Xena Falcon stared at the mirror in a mix of pride and horror--though she had to say that horror was the stronger of the two emotions. Her flesh sparkled each time she moved. Every inch of her exposed cocoa-colored skin was covered with glitter. Eyeing the barely there outfit, she grimaced. That was a lot of glitter. Even her cleavage was shimmering.

“I look like a space slut.”

Xena’s lip curled in disgust. She liked wearing her hair short and neat, but Lord Maximus had insisted she spend a few hours under the beauty machine to grow the dark locks until they hung to her shoulders. Sure, it was pretty, but when she was in the field chasing the bad guy, who cared about being beautiful? She didn’t become an HIA agent to win hearts. She became one to make the universe a better place to live for humans and humanoids.

“I’m a trampy space slut.”

Xena said the last with a fake smile on her face, purposefully looking vacant to match the horrible outfit. It looked like she’d been attacked by a purple-web spinning Tig spider from the Z quadrant. A knitted center spiral was between and slightly under her breasts like a giant, round target. Thin purple straps sprouted out from there, joining haphazardly to other parts of the horrific outfit. A couple went to her thigh-high purple knit stockings, more wrapped around her body, stopping to form two more target circles over her breasts. Her panties were a separate piece, though they barely covered the thatch of hair between her thighs and they too had straps wrapping around her hips.

At least all the essential areas are covered.

Glancing over her shoulder, she knew her other choice in undercover gear had been a corset top with holes cut out where her breasts would go. Embarrassing as this all was, she was not going to bare all for a bunch of horny space-dogs. It didn’t matter if the head of the Medical Mafia himself was going to show up and by capturing him she’d become the most decorated agent in Human Intelligence history.

I wish.

Xena wasn’t after anything as glamorous as a mob boss. She was investigating the Siren Mining Colony for illegal core trading. Rumor had it the Vice President of the company had a penchant for sexy strippers. Intel did a profile of the guy and came up with a physiological workup of his particular preferences. Xena was the best agent suited to the job.

“Your ass looks amazing in that, Miss Topaz,” her bodyguard said, his tone low and gravelly. Vulcan was named after the Roman smith god who was rumored to have lived underground. Xena knew she wouldn’t mind throwing the sleazy man in a hole and burying him like his namesake. She quirked a brow in his direction as he licked his lips in invitation, already knowing what was coming before his mouth opened. “You want me to shut the door and let you work off some steam before your private party tonight?”

The implication was clear as he shifted his hips. His large cock bulged from between his thighs, outlined clearly by the tight cotton pants he wore. He’d come onto her non-stop since she boarded the transport ship at Lord Maximus’ Galaxy Playmate’s mansion.

Lord Maximus was owner of the Galaxy Playmates Empire. All his dancers were nicknamed after precious metals and gemstones and all the bouncers were named after mythological Earth Gods--thus the ridiculous name Vulcan. She might have to be undercover, but she was not going by the name Topaz. Odds were Mr. Vice President wouldn’t want to know her name.

“I’ve told you, Vulc, the name’s Xena. Not Topaz, not sweetheart, not sexy trove, not--”

“Yeah, yeah, I get the point, Xena.” Vulcan rolled his eyes. “But, Lord Maximus said that you were now called Topaz.”

“I don’t care what the little card outside my dressing room says. My name is Xena. You forget it again and I’ll pull off your balls and feed them to a libear. Deal?”

“Uh …” Vulcan grabbed his crotch and hurried out of the room.

Xena knew the bodyguard also had orders not to touch her without permission. She’d give one thing to Maximus. He did treat his women well, despite what they did for a living. None of them were forced to have sex if they didn’t want to. In fact, they were discouraged from selling their bodies like common space trash. According to him, to openly sleep around took away the illusion of untouchable. The women were allowed to have sex, but always had to keep it within a relationship, or with the high paying clientele. It was always ladies choice and no one prostituted if they didn’t want to. Being an all-out-whore was one of the only ways to be stripped of Lord Maximus’ prized circle of protection--at least according to him. Xena had no way of knowing how true those statements were as she hadn’t really had a chance to ‘chat’ with the other strippers on the transport.

“Not that I really wanted to,” she mumbled. Turning once more to the mirror, she took a deep breath. Despite the clothing, she didn’t look half bad. Her body was in shape, her skin nearly flawless. There was a scar from the line of duty on her upper thigh, but it was hardly noticeable under the glitter. She hadn’t gotten around to having it removed and until now had actually forgotten about the thing.

Silver makeup lined her dark brown eyes and her fake lashes were so long and heavy they actually weighed down her lids, giving her a sultry come hither look. Her naturally full lips were painted dark red, a great compliment to her dark complexion.

Sitting in a chair before the round mirror, she ran her palm over the edge of the mirror. Her reflection shimmered and a menu of different hairstyles came up custom tailored for her hair type. Almost distractedly, she picked one, not really caring. Mechanical arms came down from the ceiling and quickly set to work on her hair. Xena grimaced as they pulled. She wasn’t used to the longer length yet. When they finished, the sides were pulled up and a slip of bangs fell over her forehead to cover her eyes. Large dark brown curls fell over her back streaked with purple, a color of which the beauty machine had determined to match her outfit.

“Computer,” Xena ordered, “shoes.”

A zip sounded next to the mirror and a small door opened. Thigh-high purple vinyl boots with laces from toe to top were revealed. Taking them, she began slipping them on her legs and began the tedious process of lacing them up.

“I’m beginning to feel like a grape here, computer,” she grumbled.

The food simulator on the other side of the mirror from where her boots appeared

dinged. Sighing, Xena opened the door. A large plate of purple Earth grapes was there.

“Ugh,” she moaned, grabbing one anyway and popping it in her mouth. It was clear the computer didn’t have a sense of humor. Munching on the grapes, she worked on her boots. “If only the other agents could see me now…. Ugh, I’d probably have to kill myself.”

© copyright October 2004, Michelle M. Pillow

This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.

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 REVIEWS

"4 TATTOOS!  Michelle M. Pillow has crafted a marvelous tale with Xena: Galaxy Playmates Bk. 4  that is sure to increase your body temperature a few degrees." Nikita Steele, Erotic Escapades, July 2006