I drop to my knees and present myself again...knees wide apart, palms face up and open on my thighs, back arched and my head is bowed towards the carp...t. Part 2:I must not cry. Tears will show weakness and a lack of trust. Why does Master think I do not trust him? Why is Master not talking? He must be disappointed in me. I hear Master moving, but I can not see his shoes anymore. I kneel and breath, I must not cry. It is quiet again. "Little Slut", Master calls out. Master is sitting in. I start brainstorming. How to get money when you're a weirdshapeshifting sexbot with a man's brain, sort of:Clerical: No ID, social security number belongs to a late twentiesmale. I appear to be an eighteen-year-old nymphomaniac addicted toexcessive plastic surgery. Also, office will call security when Isuddenly have a new face, height, build on day two. Shit, I might beJapanese.So, let's amend the list to weird shapeshifting sexbot with no ID.Manual labor: not with these arms. Unless I can. One hundred and sixty very excited women and twenty kids disembarked the Fortune. We had docked up to one of the naval ships that patrolled Delta space. They were the guys that my younger brother Rick, wanted to join, the Delta Space Police Force or DSPF.We women ranged in age from eighteen to thirty-four years. We were all different shapes, heights, races and religions. The two things we had in common were that we were female and single. About fifteen of the women had kids under the age of. " Well why don't you surprise me stud" and with that one liner you have made him turn a shade of red. A few minutes later the bar man returns, "here you go, a screaming orgasm". "Never heard of that before!" "Well it's my own recipe" the bar man replies. "I am kinda famous for them" he adds. "Hmmm well I bet you are" you reply. This flirting between two two of you's continues over the next few cocktails, when the bar man asks "would you like to try something else?" "What do you have in mind for.