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Special Assignment	By : salarta Category: +S through Z > Starcraft Views: 10286 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Starcraft properties, its characters or any ideas or concepts contained herein. This story is a mere fan-made work, and I make no money or profit from its creation and dissemination.

Chapter List
- 1-Special Assignment
- 1
"This is Kate Lockwell for UNN with a - ugh, that fucking smell. I can't believe I have to do this. - with a special live report here at the Black Hole bar on Turaxis II."
Kate Lockwell, intrepid reporter for the Universal News Network, tried her best not to gag. Sweat, beer and the rancid musk of unwashed spunk soaked through everything the bar's air touched - including her. She could feel its pungent odor baking into her richly styled, perfumed dark hair with the combined body heat of every Dominion Marine and Armada troop popping in for a late night drink and fuck. Loud, dark and nasty, this dive had the worst reputation in the entire Terran Dominion.
She hated it. She hated standing there with a big bright lighting rig blasting in her eyes, nostrils burning and face screwed up in scowly disgust while she forced herself to keep her hands away from her nose. Within the crackling of her earpiece, her Editor-in-Chief insisted she maintain 'authentic' expressions, to show the viewers how sickening it was to be inside the Black Hole.
It was all bullshit, just like the reason her Editor-in-Chief gave for this assignment. The man wanted her to believe he signed her up for a hard-hitting piece on the problem of military bar brawls carried over from the Guild Wars of 2485 to 2489, but Kate knew the real reason: punishment. Someone high in the ranks wanted to watch her stew and suffer on live TV as their perverse idea of 'justice' for her plan to air a deeply troubling exposé.
With no other choice, she took a disgusted breath, blinked away wetness in her eyes and soldiered on. "The air in here is thick with-"
"Show us your tits!"
Kate glared at the man off-screen. "Excuse me, asshole, I'm in the middle of a report. Can you at least save the catcalls for later?"
"Actually, Kate," the Editor-in-Chief's static voice cut into her earpiece, "it's about ethics in bar journalism. Check the sign behind you."
"What are you- oh fucking hell."
Staring her right in the face, the sign clearly stated the rules for women in atrocious and insulting pink letters: No Shirt, No Shoes, Full Service. Translation: tits or get the fuck out.
"Of all the stupid, asinine," Kate grumbled as she undid the clasp of her overcoat. Removing her microphone and UNN pin, she clipped both to her gold necklace and dropped the coat. Next, came the shirt. She tugged it over her head, mussing her hair into a disheveled look, let it fall and moved on to her bra. Shift, pop, drop, the lacy black garment joined the rest of her clothes and left her bare boobs out for the world to see.
It didn't help that she counted on her overcoat for the bottom half of her wardrobe. Its loss left her black thong exposed, the shapely curve of her hips and big meaty ass up for everyone in the universe to sit back and judge from the likely naked comfort of their own homes. Hot, sweating, her aroma fumed off her slick glossy skin and added to the bar's general queasy 'allure'. A hint of furious red blush rose on her cheeks as she looked into the camera.
"As you can see, the atmosphere of the Black Hole is very macho. Women who enter this male-dominated space are expected to conform to these standards laid out for them, which in this case means allowing my breasts to be ogled and commented on by drunk, horny men. Luckily for my dignity and you viewers at home, we are actively censoring these details."
The Editor-in-Chief broke in, "Um, Kate, we're not-"
"Oh, for the love of..." Kate touched her forehead and winced. "Fine. Fine, you get to see my big honkin' tits."
Setting her arms out, she shook her boobs in all their jiggly glory. The heft, the bounce, the blur of her puffy pink nips and their rise and fall as she breathed in rank air, all of it beamed across every Terran world and station in the universe. Once she calmed her tits, she wiped some sweat off her bust.
"Are you satisfied? Can I continue my report?" Kate jeered, and composed herself with a little throat clearing and straightening up her back. "To get to the bottom of this story, I'm going to approach these men and-"
Suddenly, an electric screech wailed in her earpiece. She heard a voice. "Entertain and fuck them."
It sounded familiar, and then she realized: it was HER voice. She squinted when a huge spotlight flashed onto her. Through all that light, she could barely see a man on the stage across the room. She heard him from the speakers far better.
"Alright you bastards, we have a special treat tonight. Courtesy of UNN, that piece of ass Kate Lockwell over there will be offering 'interviews' for anyone willing and ready for her. No charge, and I hear she's real good with that pretty little mouth of hers."
Kate's eyes widened in horror. "No, wait, you've got it all wrong!"
She yelped and jumped to a swat on the ass. She looked back at the wall of Marines blocking the exit, the other men at the bar and tables, the scantily clad waitresses taking orders and dropping mugs onto tables, and gulped.
This was going to be one long broadcast.
------
"Kate... oh god, yes... Kate Lockwell here wi-iiiith the rest of my special report at the Black Hole bar on Turaxis II."
Kate Lockwell - calm, composed, professional Kate Lockwell - licked her lips and looked down at the Marine beneath her. Rude, crude and with the feral look of a goddess turned Fury, she rode the man with all the force her thin body could slam against his dick. Her hips drove hard, pushed his plump head deep. For the first time in her life, Kate knew how it felt to have a man quiver in awe and fear of her, laid low by raw sexual power she held between her legs.
She owned her body, owned him, and right now she wanted to make him wail in tribute.
"That's right big boy, keep that limp dick up. Keep it there, keep it... aaaaaaaaaaaahhhh."
Her hands untangled from her messy hair. They slid down her gentle neck, over her soft supple tits, and took care to graze her horny teats. Finally, she rested them on the man's burly chest as her shoulders slumped to the bliss of another orgasm. The mere sight of her quaking climax brought the man under her to moan and cum, his seed bursting to her womb.
She climbed off him as gracelessly as one could expect from a tired, panting, dripping wet reporter.
Dripping from more than just sweat on her brow. Hardly an inch of flesh looked truly bare with a thick coat of ripe white jizz spread across her body. It oozed, spilling and pooling over the floor in a display worthy of her sleazy heart.
"If you're just tuning in, I've fucked 159 men in the past five hours."
To emphasize her point, she scooped a dollop of jizz off her chest and shoved the finger in her mouth. Her closed eyes, deep breath and smile creeping up her cheeks exposed her pure joy to her viewership as she savored its salty taste.
"Mmm... 160. I've been told the counter on your screen says I've fucked 160 men tonight. It's hard to keep count when you're busy indulging your wild side. Since I began my marathon of sex, there have been no fights in the Black Hole bar. By comparison, the bar averages at least 10 fight per night. I believe this proves one thing: we need legalized prostitution across the entire Dominion empire."
Strutting through the bar, newly installed lights throughout the formerly dark room revealed an enticing backdrop of sexual pandemonium. Folk singers dressed as cowgirls, waitresses in Daisy Dukes and French maid outfits, dancers spinning and gyrating on poles, women once intimately familiar with men demanding service while slapping them on the ass dominated the scene and the troops around them. Only Kate could hear the hot moans alongside pained grunts of weary soldiers unable to pry themselves free.
"Legal protections, higher wages and official ranking are only three of the demands we have for sex work in the empire," Kate continued. "It's this reporter's humble opinion that a logo of a hand tightly gripping a dick would properly convey the power and authority of a good prostitute."
From off-camera, an arm shoved a bottle into view. Kate snatched it, popped the top, threw her head back. Water shot from the nozzle as she squeezed. Fiercer, fiercer, soon her arm dipped and it splashed down her chin to soak her filthy jizzy breasts. The last couple drops brought a tantalizing tease when Kate wriggled her tongue in want for the camera. Satisfied, she tossed the bottle over her shoulder.
"If you'll excuse me, I have another hundred or so Marines to fuck and jerk off before the bar closes for the night. For UNN, this is reporter and honorary prostitute Kate Lockwell at the Black Hole bar, headquarters of the new Dominion Sex Corps."
- 1
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Special Assignment