"Space Pirates" (closed)

[HumanBean]

Bridge:

"Find me a way into that!" Portia told Marcus. She gestured to the projected image of the boneyard. "We made a delivery there, once, remember?"

"Yeah, sure," Marcus responded, his tone revealing his regret with the memory. It had been a pain in the ass. The security had been outrageous and time consuming. What could have been a 6-hour long delivery had become a 30-hour one. At one point, Marcus had gotten snippy with a pair of security guards. They'd beaten the crap out of him, even knocking out a tooth. He mused, "The longest day of my fucking life."

Portia reminded Marcus that Shuttle 5 would have a record of the delivery in detail. It was the vessel they'd used that long fucking day. She told him, "Dig into that with Betty. Find me a way in there!"

Marcus gave Betty a smile, thinking There's something I'd like to dig into you, that's for certain. Oh wait! She said, 'dig into that with Betty', not dig into Betty. His lewd thoughts almost caused him to laugh aloud. Instead, he asked, "Where do we start?"

Portia moved away with Vincent. She said more than asked, "You were once stationed aboard a Pursuer Class warship, right?"

Just as she hadn't needed to ask, he hadn't needed to answer. Still, Vincent told her, "Almost two Standard Years. My first assignment after Boot Camp and Skills Training. Why?"

Portia explained what she needed from him: a plan to arm the Venture and her shuttles. His reaction must have revealed his doubt. She quickly admitted that they didn't know enough to get too detailed at this point.

"But ... Betty can search the records..." she began explaining.

Vincent listened in silence. Portia was making sense. His time with Corporate Military Forces had shown him how poorly they often protected information and intelligence that should have been classified and closely guarded. That was what came from not having a serious enemy. CMF was the only professional, organized military entity in the Quadrant.

The only possible foe the CMF might face was the Interstellar Space Force. It was the policing and anti-piracy force that protected the Alliance of Independent Systems. But the ISF had its issues. Its operating budget was relatively small when compared to that of the CMF. Corruption was rampant. And the democratic nature of the Alliance's members made getting things done quickly was a joke.

ISF was consistently a century or more behind CMF in technological advancements. This meant older, less powerful ships with less effective sensing and defensive technologies. Because of this, ISF stayed out of CMF's way for the most part. They flexed their muscles occasionally when Corporate got in the way of, for example, free trade between the Alliance members and other free entities. But it had been a Standard century and a half since there had been a battle between the two forces that had resulted in high casualties.

As Portia finished explaining what she wanted from Vincent, a very excited Rachel piped in with, "What can I do?"

Before he knew it, Vincent was saddled with the teen. She grabbed him by the hand, pulling him across the bridge, saying, "Come on, let's get started. This is exciting, isn't it?"

Vincent glared back at his boss as she mocked him: "This is exciting ... isn't it?"

He raised his hand to scratch his chin with his extended middle finger. Rachel pulled him over to the Science Station. She retrieved a spare mag-bottom chair and stationed it close to Vincent's own seat. "Okay, what can I do? How can I help?"

Vincent wanted to tell her to curb her enthusiasm or take a downer or something. He just didn't do that well with bubbly people. And he'd never had to deal with teenagers, except for a few of the whores he'd partaken of in the past. That wasn't something he spoke about with others, of course. The one firm law heavily punishable in Corporate space was sex crimes against minors. That included underage prostitutes, even if they were the ones doing the soliciting.

He gestured to the keyboard in front of Rachel. "First..."

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Three hours later, Vincent's eyes were threatening to close. He and Rachel, with some occasional help from Betty, had accessed the list of vessels that had gone to the Wrankle & Conrad Spacecraft Reclamation Depot over the past 100 years. Unfortunately, they couldn't get a list of the vessels that were known to still be there, let alone the condition of their decommissioning. There seemed to be no way to know just what weapons and equipment might be available for them to borrow.

"We're done here," he finally said as he stood. He told Rachel, "You should go get some rest. We'll take this up later, but right now, I'm getting some sleep."

He turned away and looked about for the others. Betty was sitting at Nav, tapping away. Marcus was sound asleep in a chair at the Engineering Control console. Portia was nowhere to be seen. Vincent went to the cyborg, asking, "How long to, are we calling it Point B?"

"Yes, Crewman Vincent--"

"Stop that," he growled. Then, more politely, "Vincent. Call me Vincent." He looked to the man and said, "Call him Marcus. Or dilrod. Whichever sounds better to you."

She gave him a friendly smile and a bit of a head tilt. "Vincent then. Point B, as the Captain has decided to call it, is 53 hours away per standard propulsion protocols. The Captain did not see any need to go any faster or slower than we are now, but she did say to tell you that if you thought we should--"

"No, that's fine," Vincent interrupted. "We're going plenty fast enough to keep ahead of anyone chasing us. And I don't really think we're in that much of a hurry to burn up fuel unnecessarily."

Vincent told her. "Listen, I don't know if you sleep, but--"

He looked to Rachel, who was still tapping away at the console's keyboard. "--she needs to rest. You might have to pick her up and carry her to get her away from that console."

"I will take care of it, Vincent, thank you," Betty said.

He crossed to Marcus and gave him a swift kick in the ass. The man almost fell to the floor. Vincent looked at the clock on the bulkhead, then said, "Go to bed. Be back here at here at oh-seven-hundred hours." That would give them 10 hours to eat, sleep, and eat again.

 

[Alice2015]

Admiral and Missus Korlitz's Stateroom
(Crew Compartment 2-12):

Portia knocked on the pressure hatch to the Admiral's quarters, even though he wasn't there and the only person who was -- his wife, Carla -- was shackled to her bed and couldn't answer if she'd wanted. Smiling, she slid the door aside, entered, closed the door, and headed for the bedroom.

Carla didn't hesitate to launch into the other woman with an angry tirade; she'd been cuffed virtually naked to the headboard for hours with just a bedsheet over her, a status that hadn't made her very happy. Portia let her rail for a full minute before she reached to her hip and pulled the lethal sidearm with which she felt so much more comfortable when compared to the non-lethal weapons they'd used to seize the ship.

"Wait! Stop! I'm sorry!" Carla immediately began apologizing. "I'm sorry, Portia. I mean it. It's just ... c'mon! What the fuck is happening? You leave me here naked, shackled to this bed for ten hours--"

"It's been five hours, Missy," Portia corrected, "and you're covered up and warm, so relax."

"What if something had happened to you ... to the ship?" Carla asked. "What if there had been an accident and you died and you couldn't come back and let me loose?"

As Carla was talking, Portia had approached and sat on the edge of the bed. She reached up over the other woman's head, ripping a piece of tape from the headboard and showing it to Carla. "The key to the shackles."

"Well, how the fuck was I supposed to know they were there?" Carla spat out as Portia began freeing her. The dressed woman stood to her feet again while the other sat up and began caressing her wrists where they were marked by her earlier struggling; Carla made no attempts to conceal her delicious, firm, B-cup breasts from Portia. The two met gazes after a moment, studying one another before Carla then calmly asked, "So ... what now?"

"What now?" Portia repeated. "Now ... I get word to your husband that you're still alive; I send him proof of life; I blackmail him for some ungodly sum of platinum or diamonds or rhodium or whatever he has to offer me, only to have him negotiate it down to the amount I wanted in the first place; then, after I have my payment, I dump you at some remote moon or asteroid in an Emergency Escape--"

Carla suddenly and forcefully cut Portia off with, "I have access to all of our bank accounts." She waited for the other woman to begin understanding where this was going, then added, "I can give you far more than you'll get from my husband..."

She slowly stood up from the bed, bringing the sheet with her and wrapping it around her; the action covered her bosom beneath the high thread count sheet and yet still couldn't hide her ever-pert nipples. When she was within Portia's arm reach, Carla stopped, looking the Venture's new Captain in the eyes, smiling, and saying, "I'll give you half of everything we have ... which is probably ten times what that prick would give you for my safe return ... if ... you let me stay aboard."

"You want to stay onboard the Venture?" Portia asked, her tone doubtful. She'd heard Carla bitch and moan more times than she count about how she just wanted her husband to retire and take her back to their country estate on Penelope 5.

"For now," Carla clarified. "When we get someplace that I can get access to my husband's money ... my money ... without being pursued by him or the CMF or the ISF or even the company that my husband has a kidnapping insurance policy for me with ... then I'll take my leave of you all."

Portia considered the offer for a moment, a moment during which she let her gaze fall to Carla wondrous bosom. The other woman smiled wide, then let the sheet fall to the floor about her feet. She met Portia's eyes, smiled wider yet, and said with a suggestive tone, "And every day between now and then ... I'll make you happy that you made this decision."

Portia laughed, musing, "I bet you will ... and happily so."

"Absolutely," Carl confirmed, moving closer and reaching a hand up to caress Portia's cheek, then toy with her bottom lip as she purred, "I remember that night with you, Portia. It was incredible ... and it could be again."

Portia could feel the warmth building in her crotch as her pussy began preparations for welcoming Carla probing fingers. But she backed a step again, saying, "We'll see. Right now, though ... get dressed. You're coming to the bridge with me ... where you're going to work with my Betty unit to get me access to those accounts."

"A Betty!" Carla said with excitement. She turned to go to her closet for clothes as she said, "Delicious! I haven't had a Betty in far too long." As she fished out clothes and then headed for the stateroom's ensuite bathroom, she asked, "So, who all's with you on this little thieving adventure of yours, lover?"

"First off, you are not to mention anything about you and I having been together," Portia said with a firm tone. "Understand?"

"Oh, c'mon, lover," Carla teased. "I'm sure that the others would love to hear about how I--"

She shrieked and dropped to the bathroom floor as a round from Portia's sidearm exploded the lamp on a table just this side of the still open door. Carla looked around herself, saw the drawn weapon hanging at Portia's side, properly assessed what had happened, and stood to again assail Portia with foul language.

Portia again said calmly, "You are not to mention anything about you and I having been together ... understand?"

"Yeah, yeah, fuck almighty!" Carla said. "Was that really necessary?"

She stepped into a nearby pair of slippers to keep her bare feet from catching the glass spread all over the place. She set her clothes aside on a chair, turned the water on in the shower -- the full shower, not the mist showers to which most of the Common Crew had access -- and stepped inside once the hot water had reached the head.

"Marcus Walker," Portia said after walking into the bathroom to keep an eye on the woman; the shower had no door, so she had a clear view of Carla as the woman ran a bar of soap over her delicious curves in an intentionally erotic manner. She continued, "Vincent Mbala. The Betty I told you about. A young woman named Rachel."

"How did those last two end up aboard the Venture?" Carla asked. I wasn't aware that we were taking on passengers in Phannus."

"Long story," Portia said. She had no intention of doing so, but she told Carla, "I'll explain it to you someday."

"That's it?" the woman asked as she turned the water off. "Three Humans, a Cyborg, and a child, operating a Venture-class transport."

Portia didn't immediately respond; she was entranced with the other woman's incredible body as she ran a towel over her fair, perfect exterior. But then she said, "It is what it is."

Carl said bluntly, "You know, I fucked both of them." She'd been drying with her back to Portia but now turned to face her; the towel slid down her front until she was pressing it into her crotch, drying it in a rather lewd fashion. She clarified, "Vincent and Marcus. I fucked both of them."

Stepping out and moving to the sink, Carle worked on her hair as she continued, "Vincent was a bit of a disappointment. I don't mean his cock, mind you. I mean, wow! I'd never had a real human cock that big inside me before. Oh, I've had Cyborg cock that would hurt most women. Did hurt me once, but I got past it.

"No, what I mean," she said as she began dressing, "is that I was disappointed in him ... in his performance. He lacked ... adventure. He was a bit ... what's that old word they used ... vanilla?

"Now Marcus!" she continued. "That boy, wow! He had no limits whatsoever. I could have asked him to do anything, and he would have done it. Butt plugs, cock rings, nipple clamps ... high heels, negligees ... makeup even." She giggled. "He looked great in my pink and purple..."

She caught Portia giving her the evil eye, paused, then said with less joy, "He was a bit too clingy, though ... the opposite of what I look for in a lover. Wanted to see me again and again. I told him no, and when he wouldn't take that as the answer, I had him beat up in a bar on ... on ... oh, I don't remember where. Solved the problem, though. The next time he saw me in the passageway on Deck 2, he turned and hustled off the other direction." She smiled, ending, "Good boy."

She was finally dressed, complete with knee high boots and a centuries-, possibly millennia-old leather jacket that the collector off whom she'd bought it claimed had come from Old Earth on one of the Second Gen FTLS ships. She stopped, struck a pose, turned to show off how her faux-leather pants fit her tight, pear-shaped ass, and said, "Okay ... let's go steal some money."

 

[Alice2015]

Bridge:

Followed by Carla Korlitz, Portia stepped onto the Bridge to find only the compartment occupied by only more females: the young Rachel, whose surname was moot for reasons that still blew Portia's mind; and Betty, who as a Cyborg had a designation number in place of a surname and who -- while most definitely looking female -- might not entirely qualify one, depending upon the context in which you were using the word.

"Where are the others?" Portia asked as she gestured Carla to a seat at the Communications Console.

"Vincent suggested that it was time for some sleep, Captain," Betty began, "And Marcus wearily but willingly followed him off toward Berthing as well."

Looking toward Rachel, whose fingers were actively tapping away at a keyboard as she scanned lines and pages of data, Portia asked, "So, why's she still up?"

"I tried to make her go to our berthing compartment," the Cyborg answered. "Alas, I failed."

"Alas...?" Portia questioned.

Without looking away from her monitor, Rachel called out playfully, "I taught her that. I'm also trying to get her to use contractions like a real Human Being, but..."

"I pointed out to her, Captain," Betty said, "that I am not a real Human Being."

"Vincent and Marcus," Portia mused. "Not Crewman Vincent ... and Crewman Marcus. Is that another lesson from your Charge?"

Again, Rachel answered, saying, "No, that one came directly from Vincent." She looked over her shoulder, expecting to find only Portia as she continued, "But she's still--"

Rachel went silent at the sight of Carla, though. She turned in her chair, stood, and continued; only half of her mind was working on her words while the other half was surveying the new female member of the group, "Betty's still calling you Captain, though ... Captain. She explained to me why that's important ... wow, you are beautiful, aren't you? You're Admiral Korlitz's wife, right?"

"Call me Carla," the only real blonde Human responded. "And you must be Rachel. I hear that you are at the center of this, um..." She looked to Portia with an uncertain expression; she'd been about to say act of piracy, but that seemed so ... impolite. Instead, Carla finished, "Adventure."

"It is, isn't it?" Rachel said about the descriptor the Admiral's wife had used. She surged forward, giggling, and threw her arms around Carla's torso, hugging her as she said, "It's so good to have you here as part of it."

She pulled back, smiling to the woman as Carla herself said hesitantly, "I ... guess so."

"Sit," Portia commanded, pointing to the seat at the Communications Console. To Betty and Rachel she explained, "I offered Mrs. Korlitz here the opportunity to be returned to her husband for a ransom ... however ... she has instead offered to get us access to her husband's money--"

"Our money!" Carla corrected quickly. "It's our money. I worked for that just as hard as my husband did ... though ... maybe in a different way."

"Sex!" Rachel blurted out. When the other three females all looked her way, she shrugged, blushed, giggled again, and said, "That's what you meant, though ... right?" She paused expecting a response, and when none came, Rachel continued a bit sheepishly, "Well, what I mean is ... I saw the Admiral--"

She pointed to a photo of the man on the bulkhead; he was a 60-year-old man with a receding hairline, fat cheeks, and an even fatter torso. Rachel continued, "--and although I'm sure that he's a very nice man, I'm sure that being his wife ... being his lover ... might have been difficult at times for a woman of your obvious beauty and presumed sexuality."

Again, Rachel paused, expecting some sort of response, and when none came, she nervously plodded onward, "But, since I've never been married or been in romantic association with one or even had any physical contact with one other than when I held Vincent's hand eariler tonight--"

"Wait...!" Carla finally cut in. A moment later, looking to Portia, she asked with disbelief, "What the fuck?"

Portia waved the question off, saying, "Let it go ... for now, at least." To the girl, she said, "Rachel! Bed! Now! You're beat. Even I can see it."

The girl looked between the two Human women, then surged forth again to hug each of them as she said with excitement, "I'm having so much fun!" Turning to the Cyborg, Rachel gave Betty a hug as well before turning to head for the bridge's exit, practically dancing despite the exhaustion that she should have been feeling after all this time.

"Oh! I forgot to tell you!" she said at the hatch as she spun back to face the other three. Smiling with pride, Rachel informed them, "I found a way into the archival records of the boneyard -- Vincent called it a backdoor -- and through it, I got into the current listing of all of the retired ships, including full and up-to-date records of everything that has or hasn't been removed from them for recycling or redistribution to other vessels."

Rachel paused a moment, smiled and waved, then spun and danced away. Portia watched her leave, then looked to Betty with a dumbfounded expression on her face as she asked, "What the fuck?"

 

[Alice2015]

(Part two. Sorry, sometimes I just can't stop writing.)


"Yes, Captain," the Cyborg confirmed. "Rachel was working on the Depot's records with Vincent as you'd requested, and after he left to get some sleep--"

"No, no, I got that!" Portia cut in. She tried to get the words out, but they were stuck in her throat or maybe her mind.

Carla instead continued for her, speaking to the Cyborg, "What she's trying to ask is ... how the hell did that little girl get through the security of the Depot on her own?"

"She is a very intelligent little girl, Mrs. Korlitz," Betty answered with a calm, matter-of-fact tone. Then, she asked, "May I call you Carla, Mrs. Korlitz. The Captain has and the others--"

"Yeah, yeah, Carla's fine," the woman cut in. She smiled, moved to the seat that Portia had assigned her to twice now, and said, "Okay, let's see if I can remember the account numbers off the top of my head--"

"You won't need to, Carla," Betty interrupted. When both women looked her way, the Cyborg explained, "I presumed that since we were stealing the Admiral's vessel and all of its valuable cargo, that it wouldn't be--"

"You did it!" Rachel's voice called from down the passageway. The teen suddenly surged back onto the bridge; she'd actually only gone a few steps down the hall, not ready to give up on the work she'd been performing or the comradery of the other women. When the trio stared at Rachel with confused looks, she explained, "Betty used contractions. Didn't you hear it? 'Won't' and 'wouldn't'!"

The girl danced her way across the Bridge to again throw her arms around the Cyborg in a big, playful hug. Behind her, Portia just shook her head and ordered, "Okay, okay, get her the fuck out of here. Off to bed for you, Missy."

She gestured the Cyborg to take the girl away, but -- after hurrying to each of the other two women for yet another hug -- she ran off the bridge and down the passageway singing in that unfamiliar language that Betty had used upon the pair's first appearance at Shuttle 5's entrance, "Byla jedna dívka s krásnými kadeřemi a Rachel se jmenovala..."

Portia looked to Betty for some sort of explanation about the girl's antics. The Cyborg misunderstood and believed that the Captain was looking for a translation and gave her one in song: "There was a girl with beautiful curls, and Rachel was her name-o..." She paused, saying, "No, Rachel does not ... doesn't ... have curls, but those are the lyrics--"

She went quiet as Portia waved her off. The Captain nodded her head toward the finally sitting Carla and asked, "Can you help her get into her husband's accounts?"

"Our accounts," Carla again corrected. Getting a glare from Portia, she padded the seat next to her and said, "C'mon, Betty. Why don't you help me steal a fortune."

The two got immediately to work, while Portia returned to the corner 3D display to look over what they'd been plotting in more detail regarding their course. Everything relied on them getting into the Depot, of course, and really there was no reason to continue planning for the hours, days, and possibly weeks and months after that. But Portia had confidence in the plan, and she knew that the other five aboard the Venture were relying on her leadership.

After a couple of hours of half-listening, half-not to the pair working behind her, Portia finally told them that she was going to get some rest and that they should get some, too; she knew that the Cyborg could go days, even weeks without a recharge, but she had no idea whether or not Carla had been able to sleep while shackled to her headboard.

Portia reached the non-pressure hatch entry to her Common Crew quarters, paused, contemplated, then turned and continued down the passageway. She stopped at yet another door that symbolized the ship manufacturers' lack of concern about the Common Crew in the case of a depressurization, paused a second time, and -- finding the door unlocked -- opened it, entered, and closed it behind her.

A soft light in one corner illuminated Portia as she began undressing, the sound of her gun belt hitting the floor waking the compartment's occupant. As Marcus sat up, blinked his eyes clear, then watched in silence, Portia stripped down to her birthday suit, pulled a throw pillow from a nearby armchair, sat in said chair, and dropped the pillow onto the floor between her feet as she spread them to reveal her womanhood to the man.

Portia said only, "I need this ... now ... please, Marcus."

 

[HumanBean]

Marcus's berthing compartment:

Marcus had sensed more than actually heard the opening of his berthing compartment's door. He typically slept on his side, with a hand under his head and pillow. His fingertips only semi-consciously fondled the frame of the small but still lethal weapon he kept under his pillow. It was made of carbon-fiber, not that that had anything to do with being under his pillow. Marcus liked it because it would pass through most of the older generation weapons detectors at bars, brothels, and other various places he liked to spend money, get drunk, and start fights.

The light came on, quickly shifting Marcus from semi-conscious to Who the fuck is in my room? mode. He sat up quickly. The small pistol came out from under the pillow but remained hidden. He found Portia at the end of his smallish bed and watched in silence as she stripped.

No, no. That wasn't accurate. He watched in stunned silence as she stripped. The stunned part came from two facts. First, she'd never done this in Marcus's own quarters. They'd only ever had sex in hers. He'd understood the reasoning for this, of course. After he drove her to orgasm, which he always did, she could lay back and enjoy the euphoric afterglow in her own, comfortable bed. Meanwhile, Marcus was expected to quietly but quickly get the fuck out and leave her alone. More often than not, he found the nearest piece of privacy (sometimes his own quarters but often somewhere closer) to find his own satisfaction within his curled, pumping fingers.

The second portion of the stunned part came from the fact that they weren't entering some planet's atmosphere. The only reason Portia had called on the services of Marcus's skilled tongue and fingers in the past was reentry. She had always hated the rocking and shaking and potential of burning up into ash of entering atmosphere. No, again, that wasn't accurate. Portia didn't hate it. She feared it.

She dropped into the old, ratty, blanket covered armchair. She dropped a pillow between her ankles for his comfort.

Marcus knew he shouldn't tempt fate. Still, he couldn't help but point out, "This is ... unexpected."

She only said, "I need this ... now ... please, Marcus."

More unexpected shit, he thought at Portia's use of the word please in this situation. He couldn't remember her ever having done that. Still, that hadn't prevented Marcus from partaking of her. He very much enjoyed driving her crazy with his mouth and fingers.

Rising out of bed, he casually moved to her, dropped to his knees between her own, and leaned in for a taste. Portia smelled of a long day's work. Not her pussy. Just the rest of her. Marcus didn't mind. He liked the natural scent of a woman, even between her legs. Somehow, though, his boss's pussy always tasted wonderful.

He lapped between her labia, parting them. He pressed his tongue against her swollen clit, licking his tongue's full length up it several times. Peeking upward, Marcus watched for her reaction. Portia's expressions and sounds were why he did this. He got no release from this. Not now. Not here. Later, after they'd parted ways, sure. And while it had never been as good as cumming inside her, it had always been satisfying.

He continued to work her pussy the way she'd taught him was good for her. Every woman was a bit different than the next when it came to oral. Marcus had thought he knew what he was doing the first time Portia had pushed him down to between her knees. He hadn't.

She'd shown him how to use his fingers to massage the inside of her vagina. That was what always drove her over the top, of course. Marcus had heard of the G-spot before. What teenage boy hadn't? And what sexually active male didn't search for it in his lover? Or lovers? Portia had instructed him on how to locate and pleasure hers. And he'd been so enthralled with her subsequent climax that he'd prayed for the Venture to make planet calls so that the reentry-fearing Portia would call on him.

He moved forward for a better reach. Rolling his hand palm upwards, he slipped his index and middle fingers inside her. Finding that internal love button with his fingertips while his tongue continued to work her external one, Marcus peeked up again as he pushed her rapidly toward orgasm.

 

[Alice2015]

Marcus's berthing compartment:

It didn't take but just seconds for Portia to begin writhing in the chair. She'd taught Marcus well. Reaching a hand down, she held him in place as if she feared he might quit his work before she's finished. He never had, though, and she doubted that he ever would; he liked satisfying her as much as she liked being satisfied.

His tongue worked with skill upon her clit, leading her to soft cries that got progressively louder, longer, and closer together. The instance Marcus's fingers found her G-spot, though, Portia arched her back, gripped her fingers tighter within his modest-length hair, and gave out a louder, sharp cry of surprise.

"Stop!" she demanded as her thighs clamped tightly around his head. Then, quickly, Portia corrected, "Slower! I mean ... slower ... slower ... not yet..."

She released her vise grip on his skull, pushing his head to encourage him to continue, then quickly returned to her writhing and soft crying. Portia found herself wishing Marcus wasn't as good as he was at the same time that she wished he was even better. She was conflicted between wanting to cum right now and wanting this to continue for hours and hours and hours.

Portia flipped between telling Marcus to slow down and speed up, keeping her pleasure level juuuuust short of climax. She lifted her feet from the floor and crossed them behind his neck, further joining the opposing movement of his mouth and her pussy against one another.

Suddenly, before she could even think about doing anything about it, Portia exploded, screaming out louder and longer than she had in quite a while, either with or without Marcus present. Her head rolled from side to side, her body trembling deep to the core; goosebumps exploded up and down her arms and legs, accompanied by a chill up her spine. It would take until long after she came down from her peak to understand that this was likely the best orgasm she'd ever experience.

It would be a couple of minutes before Portia would open her eyes to look down at Marcus. As usual, he was just sitting there, haunches on calves and ankles, waiting for her to either tell him to start again -- sometimes she did -- or depart. Of course, this time around, she had come to his quarters, so leaving was going to be her responsibility. She stared into his eyes for the longest moment, her heart pounding, her chest rising and falling with deep breaths.

Thoughts were bouncing about inside her rocking and rolling brain, about Marcus, about what he'd done to her, about why it had been so much more spectacular this time around ... and then, surprisingly, about what the whole of them were doing beyond his berthing compartment.

"Thank you," Portia whispered in appreciation as she always did. "That was ... great."

Normally about now, she'd tell Marcus to leave, but now, of course, was looking at having to rise and depart herself. She was in no hurry, though; the euphoria had faded, but her body was still trembling too delightfully to interrupt it with a walk back to her quarters.

In the past, Portia had never had time to really think about how one-sided their relationship was; it had always been understood that their encounters had been all about distracting Portia from the dangers of reentry. Yeah, yeah; she knew it wasn't fair to Marcus, but that was the agreement between them. It wasn't as if he hadn't gained something from the arrangement; Portia had gotten Marcus out of trouble more times than she could remember, acts that had kept him employed and out of a black-lung-causing ore mine and off a grain-growing planet with its skin cancer-causing, solar radiation.

Before she realized she was doing it, Portia whispered, "Take your clothes off." Her lips spread a bit as she nodded her head and, in case he hadn't heard her or simply didn't believe what he'd heard, repeated, "Take your clothes off, Marcus."

 

[HumanBean]

Marcus's berthing compartment:

"Stop!" Portia demanded when Marcus found her G-spot. He knew immediately what the problem was, even before she ordered, "Slower! I mean ... slower ... slower ... not yet..."

She released her grip on his skull. He smiled. She did that sometimes. The first time, Marcus had thought she was going to pop his skull like a teenager's zit. It no longer concerned him anymore. He went back to work, paying closer attention to her sounds and movements. If she wanted this to last, he was going to ensure it did.

At least, that was the plan.

Eventually, she erupted in a powerful explosion that took over her entire being. Marcus continued his pleasuring, though. Tongue, lips, fingers. They continued their manipulations to lengthen her climax. Only when she pulled his head from her crotch, his mouth from her pussy, would Marcus sit back. He wiped her juices from his cheeks and chin, licking his lips clean. He loved this part. Watching her twitch and tremble from his work.

He, too, was thinking, What now? Portia had never come to his quarters before. She'd always ordered him to her own. She liked the ability to send him away when she was done with him. This time, though, after her usual thanks in appreciation, Portia told him, "Take your clothes off."

Marcus stared a moment. He wasn't entirely sure he'd heard her correctly. She sensed that, smiling and repeating, "Take your clothes off, Marcus."

He hesitated, uncertain of what was happening. Portia had never expressed an interest in having any part of him near her pussy except his mouth and fingers. Surprised that he was doing it, Marcus asked softly, "Are you sure?"

If she indicated that she was sure, he would rise, undress, and do whatever Portia asked of him. He'd waited a long time for this. He'd actually thought it would never come. Portia had never shown an interest in pleasuring him. He was a tool. And, honestly, he had been fine with that.

 

[Alice2015]

Marcus's berthing compartment:

"Are you sure?" Marcus asked when Portia told him to undress.

"I'm sure," she whispered, smiling.

As they eyed each other, Portia realized that this had been a long coming; she'd used Marcus for her sole benefit, but deep down, she wasn't that person. Sharing the joy had been imminent, she realized at this moment. Should have known ... known earlier.

Marcus stood and began shedding his clothes, piece by piece until he stood before her naked. Portia smiled, happy with what she was seeing. Oh, he wasn't hung like a mule as she'd once described Vincent, but he was none the less impressive in every way: fit, muscular frame, above average cock length and girth, and a smirk that told her that he was as very much eager to use what he had as Portia was.

She stood, took his hand, and led him away ... to the berthing compartment's exit. If he questioned her intentions -- which she was sure he would -- she would tell him, "I want to shower with you ... a real shower, not that fucking mist shower you share with half a dozen other Crew.

With the both of them naked, Portia led Marcus down the passageway; the cold steel of the deck plating and normal, moderately low ambient temperature sent a chill up her spine and goose bumps out all her limps while her nipples got even harder than they already were. At the entrance to one of the Senior Officer's staterooms, she tried the door, only to find it locked. She pressed her fingertip to the nearby Comms Panel, listened for the tone, and asked, "Betty, you there?"

"Yes, Captain," the Cyborg responded. "How can I help you?"

Portia gave Betty the compartment number and asked, "Can you do me a favor and unlock the door?" A moment later, a click and purr of a small motor indicated that access had been granted. Portia spoke again, "And Betty ... I don't want to be disturbed for ... let's call it eight hours, okay? I don't want to be called upon except for an emergency."

"Of course, Captain," the Cyborg responded. Then, making an assumption, Betty said, "Enjoy your rest, Captain."

"And Betty," Portia continued as she pulled the door aside to enter the larger, personal quarters of an Officer left behind on Phannus 3, "Crewman Marcus is not to be disturbed for that same period either."

"Yes, Captain," the Cyborg said; whether or not Betty believed there to be a direct connection between the female and male Crew members wishing to be left undisturbed for the same amount of time beginning at the same time was not expressed. She may have given a hint, however, with, "Enjoy your time off, Captain."

<<<<<<< >>>>>>>​

It was the best shower Portia had had in a long, long time, for multiple reasons. First, obviously, was the unregulated use of as much hot water as she wanted to use. The last time she'd had that luxury had been on Gullandier 2's second moon, which had a numeric designation she couldn't remember at the moment and really didn't care to. The moon had a water ice sheet covering its entire surface, which had led to it becoming a winter wonderland destination for the rich, powerful, and/or well connected. Portia had only been allowed there because at the time she'd been pleasuring two Corporation Executives -- brothers who liked to share their women -- in ways most women wouldn't let their bodies be used.

The second reason this shower was incredible was, of course, her companion. It had been a long time since Portia had enjoyed a man for more than just her immediate sexual gratification. Under any other circumstances, Marcus sole purpose was to eat her pussy during reentries to take her mind away from her fear of becoming a crispy critter; and she used Vincent for a similar purpose, only in his case the feature of his that delivered Portia her needed joy was his incredibly long and girthy cock.

At this time, though, Portia found herself simply enjoying being in Marcus's hands as they caressed, groped, stroked, probed, and kissed. She lathered her hands with soap and stroked him hard and fast until his balls unloaded his seed upon her belly, then turned her back to him, arched forward, and invited him into her pussy for a hard, exciting fuck that left them both moaning and groaning in ecstasy.

<<<<<<< >>>>>>>
​

"Hi!"

Shocked awake, Portia sat up from the larger-than-her-own Senior Officer's bed at Rachel's greeting and bouncy landing upon said bed, crying out without even having to think the words, "What the fuck?"
"Good morning!" the easily excitable teen continued her greeting. Looking down at Portia's exposed bosom, Rachel grasped the sheet and lifted it up to hide her, apologizing, "Oops! Sorry. Should have known." Looking to her right, she greeted, "Hi, Marcus."

"What the fuck, Rachel?" Portia again asked, now holding the sheet over her tits herself. "What're you doing here...? What ... what time is it?" She looked for a clock but didn't see one. "I told Betty--"

"Eight hours, I know," the girl said. "It's been eight hours and--" She looked to the electronic tablet in her hand, continuing, "--Eight hours and one minute. I've actually been waiting outside in the passageway for twenty minutes--"

"You gotta be fucking kidding me," Portia growled. She looked to Marcus, an expression of embarrassment filling her face; was she embarrassed to have been discovered by the girl with Marcus or simply embarrassed to be found with anyone by her. She looked back to Rachel, asking, "What're you doing here...? And couldn't it have waited?"

"I'm sorry," she responded, a concerned look on her face. Looking between the two bedmates -- even letting her gaze to again drop to Portia's bosom, then to Marcus's groin, she innocently asked, "Are you not done? Should I leave and let you--"

"What the fuck are you doing here, Rachel?" Portia growled.

The girl turned the tablet around for the Captain to see, giving Portia a moment to focus in on the words. "We got it ... all of it."

Portia read, then used a fingertip to scroll; her eyes opened wide and her mouth fell open. In awe, she asked, "How much? I mean ... total?"

"Two hundred and thirty-six million, four hundred and one thousand, nine hundred and forty-one credits," the girl said, smiling as she added, "Give or take a credit."

Portia just stared at the pad, scrolling all the way to the bottom, then back to the top, then down to the bottom again! Still awed, she said, "I ... I don't understand. How...? How?"

"Carla was telling the truth when she said that it was their money, meaning hers and her husbands," Rachel said. "What I mean is that all of the accounts had both of their names on them." Then, getting a sheepish expression on her face, she clarified, "Well ... sort of."

"What's that mean, Rachel?" Portia asked.

"Some of this was what Carla called her husband's undeclared retirement fund," the girl said.

Portia looked to her, asking knowingly, "You mean he embezzled it ... skimmed it off the top."

The girl smiled wide and nodded enthusiastically, explaining, "And just in case something ever happened to him, he put his wife on the accounts. It wasn't so that she would have access to it herself, though. It was so that if he got caught and fled to some secret location--"

"Carla would be able to get the money," Portia filled in, "and come a'running to where he was."

"Yep!" Rachel said. "And she got the money, though ... I don't think she's gonna come a'running like you said in his direction. I get the very distinct feeling that she doesn't like her husband much, Captain."

Rachel studied the other woman's reaction to all of this for a moment, then looked to Marcus; she remembered having flirted with him just the day before, with thoughts of being like this with him -- naked and sated. She was happy for Portia, of course, but she couldn't help but feel a bit jealous at the same time.

She leaned forward to give Portia a big, round the shoulders hug, then bounced off the bed to her feet. Looking between the two, she cheerfully said, "Well, I'll let you lovers get back to what you were doing." She turned and ran for the door, opened it, turned back, and announced, "Oh! Also! Vincent's up and around, and he figured out what weapons and other things we can steal from the Depot."

Rachel looked between the two, then continued, "And Betty and I used what Marcus gleaned from Shuttle 5's records on the visit to the Depot to find a way in without getting caught ... we hope, at least." She smiled wide, bounced in step like an excited kid on way too much sucrose, then waved bye, turned, and disappeared; the door closed behind her on its own.

Portia just sat there staring at the door for a long moment trying to figure out whether what she'd just seen and heard was real or just some sort of dream ... or nightmare? She turned to look at Marcus for a moment, looking for his response to it all. Then, looking to where his groin was beneath the bedding and thinking -- or maybe hoping -- that he was hard or ready to be, she smiled and asked, "Wanna fuck again?"

 

[HumanBean]

Hours earlier:

Marcus had imagined exploring the whole of Portia's body with his hands for as long as he'd known her. She'd only ever allowed his hands upon her legs, her belly, her butt, and the small of her back while eating her out. He'd never even groped a firm tit or toyed with a swollen nipple.

In the shower, though, he touched the whole of her. Well, except for her back door. Despite having had his own rear entrance be a major source of interest to Carla Korlitz, Marcus had never really had in interest in playing there on the body of someone else.

The two of them had never even kissed before this. The feel of her lips upon his, her tongue dancing with his, was incredible.

But putting his cock inside her was obviously the coup de grace. Portia turned her back to him, leaned against the hand rails, and arched to present herself with parted feet.

Marcus didn't hesitate. He hurried in fact, as if afraid she would change her mind.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the only hurried thing about the encounter. Marcus came after just a half dozen strokes in and out of Portia's warm, wet pussy.

Portia didn't seem surprised, though. She simply waited for him to enjoy his euphoric moment, then continue.

And Marcus most certainly did. He might have been quick to finish, but he wasn't quick to quit. He fucked Portia in any position the shower would allow, then took her to the absent officer's bed and fucked her some more there.

They eventually passed out in each other's arms. Marcus had easily concluded that this was the best night of sex he'd had since his very first time so long ago. .

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx​

Hours later:

Marcus heard the youngest woman aboard there Venture entering the room before she landed on the bed, calling out, "Hi!"

He rolled to look up into Rachel's smiling face, mumbling, "What is it with you women and interrupting men when they're sleeping?"

"What the fuck?" was Portia's more expressive reaction.

Marcus just laird there as the two women talked about the Admiral's money. When Rachel said the amount, though, Marcus sat up and exclaimed, "Two hundred and thirty-six million? Are you kidding? I couldn't make a hundredth of that in a lifetime. How the fuck...?"

The two women continued talking about the robbery. Marcus laid back in the bed, imagining his share. I get a share, don't I?

They hadn't talked about who would get how much if they got their hands on it. Marcus didn't know much about pirates, neither modern ones or ancient ones.

His belief was that the ship got a big cut for expenses first. You had to keep cruising, off course. Fuel, maintenance, arms and ammo, food and water, etc.

The Captain usually got a bigger share than the rest of the crew, of course. 2 shares? 3? 5? More? Marcus wondered.

Then there was the crew. They'd get 1 share. Of course, this crew was small: Marcus, Vincent. Betty and Rachel? Are they crew?

The real question was Carla Korlitz. This was her money. How much was she going to claim? 10%? 20? 50? More?

Marcus couldn't imagine that Portia would let that happen. They'd already stolen the Admiral's ship. Streaking the Admiral's wife's money was an easy Step 2.

"Do we have access to it right now?" Marcus cut into the conversation. "I mean, is it digital credits, waiting for us to withdraw it at any of a million bank machines? Or is it valuable, rare metals sitting in a vault? Gold, silver, platinum, rhodium?"

"It's both Carla says, " Rachel told him.

A thought came to him. "How do we get it? I mean--"

"Carla has a plan," Rachel said. And Betty's working on it."

Marcus laid back again to contemplate the situation. Rachel said, "Well, I'll let you lovers get back to what you were doing."

He smiled without really understanding why. Are we lovers now? Marcus wondered. Before, he'd just been a tool to get Portia through reentry.

At the door on her way out, Rachel turned and announced, "Oh! Also! Vincent's up and around, and he figured out what weapons and other things we can steal from the Depot."

Rachel looked between the two, then continued, "And Betty and I used what Marcus gleaned from Shuttle 5's records on the visit to the Depot to find a way in without getting caught ... we hope, at least."

And then she was gone.

A long moment passed. Each of them was contemplating the wonderful advancements in their plan. Marcus doubted it was going to be as easy as all this. But they had the minds to get this done. Each of them had something to offer.

Portia looked to Marcus, smiled, and asked, "Wanna fuck again?"

Marcus returned the smile as he felt the blood already rushing to his cock. "Yeah, definitely. I wanna fuck."

 

[Alice2015]

The Officer's Quarters Portia is going to take as her own:

In response to her question, Marcus smiled and said, "Yeah, definitely. I wanna fuck."

Portia pulled back the bedding, rolled atop the man, and -- after a minute of kissing and groping to get him fully hardened -- put him back inside her again. They would fuck hard and fast until each of them had cum twice again and made a sweaty mess of the sheets. After that, Portia dragged Marcus off to the full pressure, full water volume bath again, fucked more, and finally exited to dry and dress.

Then, as if nothing had happened between them, she headed for the door, declaring, "Back to work."

<<<<<<< >>>>>>>​

Bridge:

Portia strode into the command center, demanding, "Okay, gimme an update."

Carla interrupted the update before it even began, saying, "Portia, I need to talk to you first. In private."

Portia looked around to the other faces and saw in them that they knew what this private talk was about: the money, money, money, honey. She half turned and gestured toward the Bridge's exit, then followed Carla close behind after she'd passed. The two women spoke at length in private before returning to the bridge where Portia gestured Carla to begin.

"So, as you all know, I was able to get into the joint bank accounts that I share with my husband," she began. With a sheepish grin, she added, "My husband also set aside some money that wasn't ours but was, um ... borrowed from the Corporation--"

"The word is embezzled," Portia filled in. It was her way of pointing out that this money didn't actually belong to the Admiral, and as such, their stealing it from him wasn't any worse than him having stolen it in the first place.

Carla continued, "My husband wanted to ensure that I could get to this money should he ever have to ... slip away a step ahead of the Corporation. He didn't know that I knew about these accounts and stashes--"

"Stashes?" Portia asked.

"Some of it isn't in Corporate Credits," Carla explained. "Some of it is cargo that was set aside--"

"Skimmed," Portia again clarified.

"Skimmed, yes," Carla agreed. "It is hidden away ... sometimes in secured vaults ... sometimes in simply, inconspicuous locations: warehouses, caves, holes in the ground. I know where most of these stashes are, though. I can lead you all to them if you want."

"We want," Portia said without hesitation. There was a lull, after which she said, "Continue."

Carla thought a moment, then -- despite already having made this pitch directly to Portia in the hallway -- spoke at the Captain, "I'd like to make an offer to you and your crew. Betty helped me access a couple of hundred million Credits--"

Betty chimed in for the first time with her excited, teen voice, repeating the amount exactly as she had before, "Two hundred and thirty-six million, four hundred and one thousand, nine hundred and forty-one credits ... give or take a credit."

"Yes. Give or take a credit," Carla agreed. She looked between the others, saying, "I want to keep half. The rest of it, almost a hundred and twenty million ... you get ... to divide between you in whichever fashion the three of you decide."

"Three?" Portia asked. She looked around, and -- even though she knew that pointing this out meant a smaller share fore herself -- she clarified, "I see five others here."

"I don't want any of it," Rachel said quickly.

"And I work for Rachel," the Cyborg said. "I do not ... don't want any of it either."

"There's a stipulation, though," Rachel said. "I want to stay aboard the Venture with you and everyone else."

Portia chuckled in disbelief. She looked to Betty, saying, "What the fuck? We have a deal."

The Cyborg began, "I understand, Captain, but--"
"But fucking nothing!" Portia cut in. "Do you have ANY fucking idea what we have given up for you...?" As she was saying we, Portia was gesturing toward Vincent and Marcus. "We are now fugitives ... wanted ... for stealing a fucking Venture-class transport. For kidnapping a Corporation Admiral's wife."

She knew that that last part wasn't at all accurate; Carla had asked to stay. But that was how the Admiral and the Corporation were going to see it. She continued, "Do you have any idea the heat that is already on us? And when they -- when the Admiral -- finds out that Carla is still alive, that we are holding her hostage and forcing her to steal his money for us ... which is exactly how he'll see it..."

"I know we had a deal, Captain," the Cyborg started again. Betty was unaware that Portia hadn't shared the details of the original deal with her male counterparts and began explaining, "In exchange for safely delivering Miss Rachel to her owners in Olympiana, those owners were going to pay you a sum of 40 million Credits--"

Rachel cut in excitedly, "But don't you see, Portia? You're going to get more than that without taking me all the way to Olympiana. Half of Carla's cash is one hundred and eighteen million, two hundred thousand, nine hundred and seventy Credits ... rounded down half a Credit. Split three ways between you, Vincent, and Marcus, that's almost 40 million Credits each! And you have a big ass ship that you can use or sell or scrap or whatever!"

"Plus," Carla cut in this time, "There are the stashes. There's another 200 million plus in cargo hidden all over the Mid-Reaches." She was referring to the portion of the Quadrant that was mid-reach between Old Earth and the edge of the Galazy, where she and her husband had spent the entireties of their lives, working for -- and stealing from -- the Corporation. "I'll get you to these stashes ... and I'll give you each an equal share ... not just half to share, but an equal share."

"I hear another stipulation coming," Portia said knowingly.

Carla smiled guiltily. "You keep me safe from my husband's wrath ... from the Corporation's thugs. The moment Betty and I began transferring the Credits out of our joint accounts ... the moment my husband looks at the accounts with the embezzled funds ... he's going to know I didn't die back there at Phannus 3 and that I am willingly helping you. He'll come after me ... they'll come after me, for the money, for this ship, for my life ... and yours.

"You keep me safe until a time at which I feel it's safe to find a comfortable little villa on a beach somewhere," she went on. A delighted smile spread upon her face as she went another direction, "Or maybe a nice ice planet ... where there is always a big, hot fire roaring in a lavish, underground resort ... to lay in front of on a thick, soft, faux-fur rug with a couple of hot, rich, well-connected Corporate Executives who can get you a start in life that you couldn't otherwise get on your own. Maybe that little moon of Gullandier 2. You remember the one, Portia?"

The Captain smiled, not just at the wondrous memory of the most luxurious hot water shower she'd ever experience but at Carla's gall for mentioning it after the part in that event that she'd played. (OOC: for more on this, see the second portion of Post #33.)

"C'mon, Captain, please?" Rachel begged. "I don't wanna go to Olympiana. You know what's gonna become of me there. I want to stay here with you and Vincent and Marcus. Betty does, too! Don't you?"

Betty smiled to the girl, then looked to Portia and said honestly, "It is my duty to protect Miss Rachel, wherever she be ... to keep her safe and happy."

"And I'd be much happier here with you all!" Rachel declared.

 

[HumanBean]

Bridge:

Vincent and Marcus looked to each other as Carla asked Portia to speak in private. Just as the boss was thinking, they knew this was about the woman's money. They returned, and Carla explained her deal. The men again looked at each other. This time the expressions were suspicion. They were looks of shock.

"Three?" the boss asked when Carla suggested how many would be sharing the portion she was giving up. "I see five others here."

Vincent had wondered about that, too. This whole adventure of theirs had begun with the arrival of Rachel, Betty, and Betty's gun. His understanding was that they were delivering the girl to Olympiana for a big chunk of change. That didn't include either of them, Human or cyborg, in the cut of Carla's money. Did it?

On the other hand, Marcus thought they most definitely deserved a share, either one share each or one share to ... share. It was his understanding that Betty had been greatly responsible for getting hold of the money. And Rachel, with that sharp brain of hers, had made leaps and bounds regarding the boneyard. Without the equipment, arms, and ammunition they hoped to get from the graveyard, the Venture might not ever reach Olmpiana, let alone continue to operate as a pirate ship after that.

But Rachel said she didn't want any of the money. And her faithful puppy, Betty, said the same thing.

Then, Rachel told Portia, "There's a stipulation, though. I want to stay aboard the Venture with you and everyone else."

Portia laughed, then challenged Betty, "We have a deal."

Once again, the men looked to one another. The Captain had never explained the deal that she'd made with Betty and Rachel. The men hadn't questioned Portia over it. They trusted her to make the right decision regarding such things.

During the ensuing argument, Betty said something that caught Vincent's attention: Rachel had owners?

Rachel got into the argument. She pointed out how the crew was still going to get their promised compensation and more. But Vincent's mind was stuck on the whole owners comment.

Then, Carla leveled her stipulation of staying aboard, too. And she spoke Gullandier 2's exomoon, nicknamed The Snowball. (It's astronomical designation was LK-2121b.) This comment got Marcus's attention. He'd been crew on the ship that had taken Portia to that ice moon as a passenger.

Carla asked Portia, "You remember the one, Portia?"

Marcus knew most of the details of what had happened to Portia on The Snowball. Maybe not all of them, but enough to know that it had changed her for both the better and worse. They'd met then, become crewmates, then friends, then lovers. Well, lovers? He'd pleasured her but not the other way around. But that was old news. They'd begun a new exciting chapter, he hoped.

"C'mon, Captain, please?" Rachel begged. "I don't wanna go to Olympiana. You know what's gonna become of me there. I want to stay here with you and Vincent and Marcus. Betty does, too! Don't you?"

Betty smiled to the girl, then looked to Portia and said honestly, "It is my duty to protect Miss Rachel, wherever she be ... to keep her safe and happy."

"And I'd be much happier here with you all!" Rachel declared.

"I'd be much happier," Vincent cut in with a firm tone, "if I knew what was going to happen to Rachel when she got to Olympiana. Owners? What the fuck?"

He had been looking between Portia, Betty, and Rachel. Now, though, he looked directly at Portia. "I think you owe us the whole story ... Captain."

Vincent looked to Marcus. He hoped he was speaking for the man when he said, "I go no further until I have the entire, full, unedited version of what the fuck you've gotten us into."

 

[Alice2015]

Bridge:

"I'd be much happier," Vincent cut in with a firm tone, "if I knew what was going to happen to Rachel when she got to Olympiana. Owners? What the fuck?" He looked directly at Portia, saying, "I think you owe us the whole story ... Captain." Then, looking to Marcus for support and finally back again to Portia, he said, "I go no further until I have the entire, full, unedited version of what the fuck you've gotten us into."

Portia had known that this moment was coming, of course; it was one thing for the men to allow her to lead them into an adventure involving piracy, potential imprisonment, and likely execution ... but doing so without an explanation? Well, there were lines.

Before Portia could start, though, Rachel asked, "Captain, can I...?"
Portia studied the girl a moment, then looked to Betty, then looked back to Vincent again. There was no moving ahead without giving details, and Portia knew that both of the men -- and maybe Carla, too -- needed the full story. She nodded her permission to Rachel and dropped down into her Command Chair for what was going to be an enlightening story.

Rachel stood from the chair in which she'd been sitting, held her arms out to her sides, and did a playful spin to show herself off to the others before saying confidently, "What you're looking at here is perfection."

She paused and giggled. Without the parental tone that a mother might have chastised her with, Betty told her, "Continue, Rachel ... or do you want me to--"

"I am perfect," Rachel repeated, clarifying, "Genetically."

She looked to Betty again, leading the Cyborg to continue for her, "Over the thousands of years of ever continuing research into the genetics of DNA and its relationship to Human health, wellness, and longevity, more than a thousand diseases, disorders, ailments, weaknesses, and more have been associated directly to one or more specific genes within Human DNA."

Betty looked to Rachel, who again held her arms out and did a playful spin. The Cyborg continued, "Rachel is the first Human Being to have no susceptibility to any of these genetic issues. She is, as she brags ... perfect. She will never be subject to any disease, disorder, ailment, etcetera, that was caused by or enhanced by a genetic defect."

"There's only one ... little ... problem," Rachel said. She shrugged her shoulders, informing them, "I'm not really Human. I a thing ... property."

Betty began again, "Rachel's DNA ... and in extension, her entire being ... is the property of the Corporation ... specifically the Genetics Exploration and Development Administration. She was created in a laboratory--"

"Created!" Rachel cut in with a disapproving tone. When the others looked her, she corrected the way that she liked to this of it, "Born! I was born in a laboratory."

"Rachel was born in a laboratory at a location of which neither of us are aware," Betty continued. "She was in transport to Olympiana, where she was to be mated to a male of similar genetic perfection in an effort to determine whether their characteristics of perfection were inherited by their offspring."

Portia looked to Vincent, then Marcus, then shrugged. "So ... now you know."

Carla spoke up, saying with obvious understanding, "Do you have any idea what this would mean to the future of Humanity...? Rachel, you are, as you said, essentially perfect! You ... you and this male ... you are the next evolution of the Human species. An advancement we haven't seen in 200,000 years."

The girl giggled and did yet another playful spin, saying, "I know! Isn't it cool?"

"No, it's not," Portia said firmly. When the others looked her way, she explained, "They'll never stop looking for us now." She looked between the others, then stepped closer to the girl and told her, "Rachel ... this ship ... the cargo in its Shuttles and holds ... the credits and stashes Carla can get us ... they are nothing compared to what you are worth to these people ... to GEDA--"

She pronounced it ged-duh. Portia continued, "--to the Corporation. You are more valuable than anything they've ever found out here in the void."

"I know!" Rachel said again. "Cool, huh?"

And again, Portia said, "No! It's not." She stepped closer again, taking the girl's shoulders in her hands. "Do you understand what's going to happen to you when we get you to Olympiana, honey?"

Rachel shrugged, then innocently answered, "I'll marry the boy they have waiting for me there and have a baby...?"

"You'll spend the rest of your life being watched, supervised," Portia said in a sympathetic voice. "And it'll be worse for your child. She or he will grow up in a laboratory ... maybe not some enclosed, germ- and particulate-free, white-walled clean room like where I'm sure they created you ... but still, your child's life ... well ... it won't have one."

Rachel's happy smile had begun fading and -- by the time Portia went silent -- was gone, and her eyes were glazing over with tears. She looked to Betty, and after a moment said, "You didn't tell me this."

"I could not, Miss Rachel," the Cyborg said. "The people who reprogrammed me to deliver you to Olympiana made it such that I could not tell you these things. But..."

"But what!" the girl snapped. She pulled out of Portia's hands and stomped her way to Betty, repeating, "But what!"

Betty opened her mouth to speak but never got the chance as Rachel's open hand slapped across her face; the girl hit her so hard that she pulled her hand back, clenched at the pain she'd caused herself before beginning to sob. The Cyborg had had the speed and forethought to prevent the slap but hadn't; she'd allowed it to happen, and now -- as her Charge showed pain, both physical and emotional -- she stepped closer, reaching out as Portia had.

"No!" Rachel said, backing a step. "No! Don't touch me! Every again! Never!" She spun and ran out of the Bridge, her sobs audible until she was gone.

Behind her, Betty looked to Portia and immediately began, "I could not tell her--"

"I know," Portia said; she understood something about Cyborg programming.

"But I knew that there was something wrong," Betty continued. "My reason for involving you in my mission is that our originally organized transportation was ... interrupted--"

"Explain," Portia demanded.

"The passenger transport on which we were scheduled to transit to Olympiana was boarded by armed men," Betty explained. "The Crew was tortured for information as to Miss Rachel's location ... and when they did not have the desired answers ... they were never seen again.

"I was tasked with getting Miss Rachel--"

"Rachel!" Portia cut in. Then, more gently, she said, "Call her Rachel. She's ... she's just a girl. Call her by her name."

"I was tasked with getting Rachel to Olympiana," Betty continued, "which I attempted to do via other legal means. Each time, those means failed."

"You mean more people were killed," Portia clarified.

"In some cases, yes," Betty confirmed. "In the end, the people guiding me told me to take whatever means I found necessary. I found you, Captain--" She looked to Vincent and Marcus, continuing, "--and your Crew." She hesitated, then said with a genuine tone, "I am truly sorry if I have caused you trouble out of which you cannot now get yourself."

"Don't worry about me, Betty," Portia said. "I got us into this." She looked to the men and did as Betty had, saying, "Sorry."

 

[HumanBean]

Bridge:

"I am perfect," Rachel, said, adding, "Genetically."

Betty explained what made the girl special. Then Rachel explained the problem: "I'm not really Human. I am a thing ... property."

The guys listened in shock to the two women ping-ponging the explanation. Marcus found himself becoming jealous of this unknown perfect man who was going to mate with Rachel. He'd been fantasizing about being inside her since the first moment she'd walked up onto Shuttle 5's loading ramp.

Of course, this made him glance sideways toward Portia. He only just this morning fucked his boss for the first time. What're you doing thinking about this girl when you've got her? he asked himself. Hell, he knew what that was all about. He could have Portia every day, twice a day, and he would still want to put his cock inside sweet, young Rachel at least once. What man wouldn't? he asked himself.

Betty explained how the Venture shuttle and its crew of three had gotten involved. Carla spoke up about how special Rachel was, calling her the next evolution of the Human species.

Marcus didn't quite understand the emphasis on this. He'd been a pretty healthy person all his life, and he hadn't known many people who'd died of disease. Maybe he just didn't have the life experience to understand how spectacular this was.

Vincent, however, understood the importance very well. He'd lost both of his parents, a sibling, and a lover to diseases or ailments. Ironically, in all three cases, they could have been saved if they had been people of importance. There were cures and/or treatments for the things that had killed them. But they'd all been nobodies.

Portia continued with the explanation to Rachel herself of what this all meant to her. The girl didn't take it well, suddenly realizing that what made her special was going to essentially imprison her, too. She charged the cyborg and slapped her so hard that she hurt her own hand.

"No!" Rachel cried out at Betty tried to comfort her. She ran out after saying, "No! Don't touch me! Every again! Never!"

Betty tried to explain to Portia, who only said, "I know."

The two talked more about how the Venture had become involved. "I am truly sorry if I have caused you trouble out of which you cannot now get yourself."

"Don't worry about me, Betty," Portia said. "I got us into this."

She looked to the men and apologized, "Sorry."

"We followed you, boss," Marcus said.

"Captain," Vincent corrected softly, nodding in agreement. "You don't have to apologize to us. We're in this as much as you are."

A tone at the Navigation Station alerted them. Betty, still connected to the ship's AI said, "We're about to begin the braking procedure for the course change, Captain. In 83 minutes, we will be able to redirect to your Point C."

She gestured toward the corner where, just through her connection to the AI, the 3D display illuminated again. It zoomed in to show their current course, the location labeled Point B, and the new course to Point C.

"I feel as though I should speak up, Captain," Betty said. "I need to know whether or not Miss Ra-- Rachel is going to remain on board the Venture. I am sure you understand that I am obligated to stay by her side, no matter what she decides she wants to do. I cannot advise her one way or the other, to stay here or continue to Olympiana. I can only--"

"She's staying with us," Marcus cut in. He didn't sound certain. Looking between the others, he asked, "Isn't she? We're not going to turn her over to those people, are we?"

"Think about the good she and this other perfect guy will be," Vincent said in opposition. He didn't sound any more certain than did the other man. "I mean, I don't like the idea of her and her kid, boy or girl or whatever, being lab rats.

"But just imagine!" He continued. "Perfect Human Beings. No diseases ever again. Oh, don't get me wrong. I know they aren't going to personally birth a million or billion perfect human beings. And it will be millennia before their ... what's that word, progeny? Before their children's children's children replace all of us broken, disease-infested Humans.

"But no more disease," Vincent said. He was speaking from the heart, from his memory of what his mother had gone through in particular as she wasted away. He looked between the others for support and opposition both. "I mean, if they can make Rachel and this boy disease-free, who says they can't make cures for everything that ails us in a couple of years, a couple of decades, even a couple of centuries!"

Vincent looked to Portia, saying, "I'll back your play, Captain. You name it. I'll do it. You can trust me on that. I just--"

He drew a deep breath, contemplating. He exhaled, saying only, "It's your call, Captain."

A moment later, Marcus said, "It's your call, boss. Captain. I'm in, too."

 

[Alice2015]

Bridge:

Betty updated them on the Venture's braking maneuver to prepare for its course change at the so-called Point B. They then conversed about what to do regarding Rachel: Betty was obligated to stay with and protect the girl regardless of what happened to her, obviously; the men were divided on what they thought should happen to her, with Marcus firmly saying that Rachel should stay with them, while Vincent wondered if maybe her importance to the future of Humankind meant that she should continue onward to Olympiana.

Regardless of how they felt, both men told her the same thing: they were following Portia. She looked between the three of them, then to Carla, who only shrugged. Portia chuckled, telling the Admiral's wife, "You're a lot of help."

She turned away from them, strolling slowly closer to the 3D display that was still displaying their intended route and the applicable points. She'd known about Rachel's special gift, of course; Betty had explained that portion of the story to her that very first day. But Portia hadn't known about the breeder waiting to impregnate Rachel with their revolutionary child, a child who would never know life as she -- or he -- should.

This changes things, Portia told herself. She needed to think about this; she wasn't ready to just surrender Rachel to GEDA without some time to think of the ramifications. She studied the display for the longest time, ignorant of what may or may not have been happening behind her. Finally, she turned back to Betty, asking, "After we make the turn, how long until we have to make a decision on the boneyard?"

"Six hours, 14 minutes, present speed, Captain," the Cyborg answered without delay.

Portia considered what needed to be done in that time, then gave orders. "Victor ... keep working on the boneyard inventory. Marcus ... getting us into the boneyard. Betty, help them both as necessary."

"And what about me?" Carla asked.

Portia smiled. "You keep looking for the money, honey. You keep getting us rich, and we'll keep getting you safely away from your hubby." She turned and headed for the exit, getting nearly there before Carla asked, "And what are you going to do?"

Again, Portia stopped to contemplate what she had known, what she knew now, and what was different, if there was anything new. Then, looking back, she smiled and said, "I have to go find Little Miss Perfect that she's stuck with us for a while ... for as long as she wants to be."

She saw a smile spread Carla's lips, and thought she say a bit of widening on the Cyborg's face as well. What about the men...?

 

[HumanBean]

Bridge:

"And what are you going to do?" Carla asked Portia after the latter gave the four their marching orders.

"I have to go tell Little Miss Perfect that she's stuck with us for a while," Portia answered, smiling. She added before departing, "For as long as she wants to be."

The men looked to each other for their reactions. Their expressions couldn't have been different.

Marcus was tickled. He hated slavery. What Rachel was being sent off to do was akin to slavery in his mind. Breeding with another perfect human being for the purpose of birthing lab rats who would never know freedom? Slavery.

Victor didn't like that idea either. He didn't see it as slavery. But, still. On the other hand, he couldn't get his mind off the medical advancements that Rachel's future child could lead to.

The men set about their orders.

 

[Alice2015]

Shutte 5:

Portia searched several locations for Rachel without luck, finally using the Comms to ask Betty to locate her. She was surprised to learn that the girl had fled back to the Shuttle via which she'd originally arrived aboard the Venture. The teen was sitting at the Helm, just staring at the Main Viewer which -- with her intelligence and ability to quickly learn -- she'd figured out how to energize. She stared into the void in silence as stars, star clusters, galaxies, and more passed by; the nearest ones seemed to streak by like comets, while the more distant one sometimes didn't seem to move relative to the Venture at all.

"If I go to Olympiana," Rachel said without turning, knowing that it was very likely Portia behind her, "I'll never get to go out there, will I? Go out there to the stars ... to see sometimes wondrous, sometimes frightening things and places ... and people."

"No, honey," Portia told her honestly. "You'll probably live your life in a facility ... being watched and studied for the rest of your life." Portia waited for the second half of Rachel's question, but when it didn't come, she answered it anyway: "If you ... mate with this guy they have waiting there for you ... if you birth a child ... or two ... or ten ... they will probably have to live in that same facility ... maybe with you ... maybe not. I don't know."

A long moment passed before Rachel spun in her chair to face Portia. "Betty made a deal with you to deliver me to my owners. That's what she called them, yes?" Portia nodded, and the girl continued, "Am I obligated to that deal?"

"No, Rachel," Portia said firmly. "If I had known the entire story back on Phannus, I wouldn't have agreed."

"What would you have done?" Rachel asked.

"I would have pulled on Betty and shot her down," Portia said without hesitation. "And then I would have asked you what you wanted to do ... where you would like to go. I would have protected you, Rachel."

The girl stood slowly, closed the distance between the two, and threw her arms around Portia's torso, squeezing her tightly. She began sobbing, and after a long moment begged, "Don't make me to there ... to Olympiana."

"I won't," Portia promised, holding the girl to her. After another long moment and the end of Rachel's sobs, Portia said, "C'mon. We have work to do before we reach Point be in six hours."

"Five hours, 51 minutes," Rachel corrected. Looking up into the taller woman's face, she tapped her temple, drawing attention to the Comm bud surreptitiously hidden in her ear and confessed, "I was listening in and counting. Sorry."

Portia turned the girl for the Shuttle's exit, saying, "Don't ever be sorry for being the smartest person in the room."

<<<<<<< >>>>>>>​

Portia and Rachel returned to the Bridge to work with the others a while before Rachel and Carla took a break to go make an impressive meal for the group. The other joined them on the Observation Deck, from which they had the best view of the Void that the Mothership had to offer.

After the meal and cleanup, they returned to the Bridge in time to keep an eye on the course change. Everything about the change was automated, of course, but in the past, the rather old vessel had had issues that required quick action on behalf of the Bridge and Engineering Crews. This time around, though, everything went perfectly, and with the new heading laid in, the Venture once again began accelerating, this time toward Portia's Point C.

(OOC: Sending you a PM regarding the next step. I have to sleep, but you are free to jump in if you are up and around. )

 

[HumanBean]

Bridge:

"Okay, so here's the situation," Vincent began once everyone was assembled. "Marcus has found us a way into the boneyard."

"It's not gonna be easy, Captain," Marcus said, "But it can be done."

"And the depot has what we can use," Vincent took over again. "Plasma cannons, long range missiles and their launchers, of course ... EMP missiles, defense field generators."

He smiled, holding up a tablet with the image on it. A pair of technicians were flanking a piece of equipment nearly as tall as they were and half as wide.

"They have a Gen IX cloaking unit," Vincent said. "It was on a ship that was damaged during its test trials and brought to the boneyard for equipment replacement. They took this off and haven't put it back in yet, while the ship completes trials."

"It's not made for a shuttle," Marcus filled in when Vincent didn't point that. "But if we install it on the Venture, it'll make us undetectable to electronic sensors more than 5,000 kilometers out. It's not perfect, but it's pretty good."

"There's only one problem," Vincent cut in. "We can't handle this job on our own. And I don't just mean the cloak. Some of the other equipment, weapons, and ammo are just sitting there on the deck or on pallets, just aching to be stolen."

"But the missile launchers and the cloak are gonna take some muscle," Marcus said. "We need help. We need bodies."

"Good news is," Vincent again took over, "I know where we can find them. And they aren't that far away."

 

[Alice2015]

Bridge:

"Okay, so here's the situation," Vincent began. Here and Marcus played leap frog with their explanations and details.

Portia was happily surprised to learn of the availability of a Gen IX cloaking unit. It was just one model older than those currently being installed in Corporation Military Force warships. Being rendered undetectable to 5,000 kilometers would make getting in and out of places a hell of a lot easier. Portia wished they already had one on the Venture for getting into the depot.

"There's only one problem," Vincent cut in. He talked about them needing more hands, saying, "I know where we can find them. And they aren't that far away."

Portia inquired where these hands were, also asking, "Do you think they're going to want to be part of this? I mean, we're already in this up to our necks ... necks that will stretch if we get caught."

 

[HumanBean]

Bridge:

"Do you think they're going to want to be part of this?" Portia asked.

He let her finish, then informed her, "These guys don't shy away from this kind of work, Captain. To be honest, we only have to convince one of them, a man named Yom. Yom Vistrom. He's their leader. If he says they're helping us, they're helping us."

 

[Alice2015]

10 hours later:

"Bridge, Shuttle 5, disengaging berthing locks," Portia announced over the Comms.

On the Venture's bridge, Betty confirmed the report adding, "Good luck, Captain."

"I'm hoping we aren't going to need it," Portia responded, looking to Vincent for some sort of confident support of what she was saying. She added as she gestured the man to unlatch the Shuttle, finishing, "But thank you anyway, Betty. You and Rachel take care of the ship while we're gone--"

"I still think I should be going with you, Captain!" they heard Rachel calling over the Comms. "I could help!"

Portia chuckled softly, saying without meaning it, "Maybe next time, honey."

The Shuttle increased its distance until Vincent could fire up the engines and get them on their way toward the Main Cargo Transfer Station on Emmanuel 4's northern continent. As soon as the vessel was on course and, eventually, on auto -- Vincent had only to sit there and watch -- Portia rose from the Command Chair and made her way off the Bridge. She made her way casually to her berthing compartment and began stripping.

Back on the Bridge, after Marcus had also departed, Carla asked Vincent, "So ... it's true what I've heard...? About Portia and Marcus during reentry?" There had been a rumor going around the Venture for quite some time that the two crewmates had sex during descent to most if not all of their planet calls. Carla had always wanted to ask Portia about it -- just for curiosity's sake -- but she'd known that that might lead to questions about her own sexual exploits that she might not have wanted to answer.

"So, this guy we're going to go meet," Carla said, moving over to sit at the station closest to Nav, where Vincent was. "What can you tell me about him? I mean, it's my money that's paying for his services. It only seems fair that I know a little more about him."

After they'd made the decision to employ this Yom Vistrom, the question had been raised of how to get him onboard. It was doubtful that he was going to commit both himself and his crew to a theft of military equipment for which he had no use himself; he'd once been a Captain of a small transport ship but had had to give it for reasons that -- because she'd taken a minute to tinkle -- Carla hadn't heard Vincent explain. Cash Credits were going to be the answer to that question, of course, and since Carla was the only one who had access to that kind of money, it was going to have to be her who put it up.

 

[HumanBean]

Bridge, on Shuttle 5:

As he waited for Shuttle 5 to depart the Venture, Marcus continued working on his plan for getting into the depot. He'd analyzed the data from the shuttle's first visit to the boneyard over and over and over again. He was sure that what he'd come up with would work. To be certain, he'd run it based the Venture's AI, then had Betty go over it as well.

After the shuttle departed the mothership, he watched Portia excuse herself from the bridge, waited a couple of minutes, then told Vincent, "I'm going to check the engine room."

Vincent knew better, of course, but didn't say anything. There was nothing to be said. This was just how they did things.

Marcus knocked softly on the door of Portia's berthing quarters. He entered without waiting for a reply. Inside, as happened any other time they were descending through a planet or moon's atmosphere, Portia was waiting for him on the end of her bed, naked. He took up the big, soft pillow from a nearby chair, and dropped it at her feet. He presumed he was going to eat her out as a distraction from reentry. Or, was it just entry? he wondered, since they hadn't lifted off from Emmanuel 4.

If all Portia wanted was the usual, Marcus would give her the usual. He hoped she wanted more than that, of course. He wanted to make love to her again. But she was the Captain, and he served her.

Back on the Bridge again:

"So ... it's true what I've heard...?" Carla asked Vincent. "About Portia and Marcus during reentry?"

The shuttle was on auto pilot and didn't require Vincent's attention. He turned his chair to face the woman who was financing their hiring of additional pirates. He smirked knowingly, answering, "I have no idea what you mean. Marcus is checking the Engine Room, and I have no idea what the Captain is doing. But I'm sure that its important."

Vincent could see in Carla's face that she didn't buy his bullshit. But it was nothing about which he should be talking.

"So, this guy we're going to go meet," she continued. "What can you tell me about him? I mean, it's my money that's paying for his services. It only seems fair that I know a little more about him."

"Yom Vistrom," Vincent said, as if Carla might have forgotten the name. "He started out in the Corporate Military Forces. Enlisted as a Mechanic aboard a warship but soon joined the Marines. After some troubles, he was facing court martial and possible jail time. Maybe even life at hard labor in a mine someplace.

"He decided he didn't want that, of course," Vincent continued. "So, he ran off and joined the Interstellar Space Force. The ISF liked him because of the intelligence he could bring them about the CMF. But he had problems there as well. So, they booted him out. After that he bummed around. Did some work on transports. Did some bounty hunting. Did other stuff.

"You could say he has some piracy experience, too," he pointed out. "More than I have or Marcus or Portia have. He lies low for the most part because of warrants. Both the Corporation and the Free Systems have warrants out for him for various things."

"And we're going to hire this guy?" Carla asked. "We're going to pay him money to do this job for us? How can we trust him?"

With a serious tone, Vincent said, "If Yom says he'll do something, he'll do it. He doesn't lie. He doesn't cheat. He doesn't betray. It's not in his nature. Trust me when I say that you can trust him."

 

[Alice2015]

Portia's Berthing Compartment
Shuttle 5
Enroute to Emmanuel 4
(Main Cargo Transfer Station, Northern Continent):

As expected, Portia was waiting naked for Marcus's arrival, anxious to get her mind off her fear of descent through the atmosphere. But as her lover arrived and dropped a pillow at her feet, expecting to be asked to perform oral sex on her, Portia instead used her hands and feet to scoot herself up the bed; she laid her head back on the pillows, waggled a hand out before her, and said, "Get undressed, Marcus. I wanna feel you inside me." Then hesitating a moment, she asked, "Is that okay?"


On the Bridge:

"I have no idea what you mean," Vincent said when Carla asked him if Marcus and Portia were fucking elsewhere on the Shuttle.

She listened to his story but didn't believe him. Still, she saw no reason so challenge him on it. She asked him about this guy, Yom Vistrom; Carla wasn't entirely certain what she'd been expecting, but the answer Vincent gave was a little more colorful than she'd expected.

"How can we trust him?" she asked.

"If Yom says he'll do something," Vincent said with what sounded to Carla like total certainty, "he'll do it. He doesn't lie. He doesn't cheat. He doesn't betray. It's not in his nature. Trust me when I say that you can trust him."

By the time Vincent finished, a wide smile spread across Carla's face. She gave explanation to her amusement, saying, "A man who doesn't like, cheat, or betray...? That'll be new."

Vincent might have more to say on that or he might not. Either way, Carla would tell him, "But I trust you, so ... I'll trust him as well."

The Shuttle began to tremble as it entered Emmanuel 4's atmosphere. Carla knew absolutely nothing about piloting a ship either in the void or in a planetary object's encircling atmosphere, so all she could do was buckle in and watch. Vincent let the Shuttle and it's AI do all the work; Carla was actually quite surprised that the old craft was able to remain on auto all the way through the reentry portion of the flight.

When the worst of the shaking ended -- the Shuttle's speed had dropped dramatically and the flames around its hull from the burn ceased, too -- Carla relaxed her grip on the seat's arm rests and looked to Vincent again. He seemed so calm, and she couldn't help but wonder if it was real or just an act.

"How long until we land?" she asked, clarifying, "How long until you have to, you know, do something ... take the Shuttle out of auto and actually fly it?"

Vincent answered, and realizing how much time she actually had available to her, Carla stood, walked to Vincent's seat at the Nav Console, turned him away from it, and dropped to her knees at his feet. If he didn't nothing to stop her, Carla would undo his pant, whip out his cock, and give as best a blowjob she could manage remembering how long and thick he truly was.

 

[HumanBean]

Portia's Berthing Compartment
Shuttle 5
Enroute to Emmanuel 4
(Main Cargo Transfer Station, Northern Continent):

Marcus had toed off one boot and was working on the other when Portia told him politely, "Get undressed, Marcus. I wanna feel you inside me."

He hesitated. This was what he'd been hoping for, of course. But it wasn't as he'd expected.

She asked, "Is that okay?"

He smiled as he pushed off the other boot and began working on his belt. He told her, "Very okay."

They would have passionate, sweaty sex through the entirety of the reentry procedure. Marcus came to understand how the joy and pleasure could take one's mind off the descent procedure. In the past, of course, it had only been Portia who'd partaken. Marcus had always simply been on his knees between her knees, lapping and manipulating and fingering. To be grappling and thrusting with heavy beating and accelerated heartbeat practically made the reentry fade away.

He came, she came, and they came a second time together. Only then, as he rolled off her to his back, did Marcus realize that the ship was barely trembling from its descent. He almost thought that it was just him shivering and shaking. But no, the ship was still feeling it, too.


On the Bridge:

Vincent was shocked when Carla rose and crossed to drop to her knees between his feet. They'd had sex once before, of course. But the woman had made it politely clear that she had no interest in interacting with him that way again.

She unbuckled, unbuttoned, and unzipped him. Grasping the seat's armrests, Vincent raised his ass enough to allow Carla to pull his pants and underwear down his thighs and past his knees. His cock was semi-hard by that point and would continue to harden over the next several seconds until it was a hard, stiff pole.

Vincent had never been proud of how well hung he was. He didn't give himself this cock after all. It came from God, his father's parents' genetics, and good fortune. But he also didn't regret being 10 inches long and so girthy that he couldn't touch the tips of his thumb and index finger together when masturbating.

He drew a deep breath at the pleasure of Carla's tongue finding his sensitive skin. Inconspicuously, he glanced to the Nav panel, specifically to the clock marking the arrival time. Happily, from the indicator and from Carla's tongue and fingers, Vincent smiled. They had plenty of time for this, as Portia wouldn't relieve Marcus from his task until they were in more gentler skies.

 

[Alice2015]

Portia's Berthing Compartment
Shuttle 5
Enroute to Emmanuel 4
(Main Cargo Transfer Station, Northern Continent):

It was so incredibly unusual and satisfying at the same time to be having intercourse during the dreaded reentry procedure. Portia had only begun having Marcus go down on her during descents because she'd been desperate for something to take her mind off the procedure and -- just hours before that first encounter between them -- Marcus had reminded Portia that he owed her a big favor for something she'd done days earlier for him.

She'd felt a bit awkward that first time, telling him he could leave after driving her to an incredibly distracting orgasm, but it had been just what she'd needed. Their second time together, Portia had thought that maybe they'd fuck, too, but again she'd only sent him away with a Thank you, I needed that.

Now, though, she found it far more enjoyable -- and, as the main purpose, distracting -- to have Marcus inside her, thrusting away as she dug her modest-length fingernails into his ass cheeks, urging him to go harder, deeper, and faster with each thrust. After he came that first time, she rolled him to his back, rose high above him, pulled his hand to her pussy to fondle her clit, and bounced on him -- again, harder, deeper, and faster -- until she, too, felt the euphoria surging through her being.

They finished with Portia on her back again, their orgasms coming to them almost simultaneously. As Marcus rolled off of her, Portia just laid there staring up at the overhead of her compartment, feeling her heart pounding, watching her chest rise and fall. She wondered how it had never occurred to her to engage Marcus this way rather than the other all those times.

Portia knew the answer to that, of course: she'd been afraid of Marcus becoming too close to her. She hadn't begun their relationship out of a desire for ... well, a relationship. She'd just needed something to distract her from her deep-seated fear of burning into ash during a failed atmosphere descent. Having him put his tongue on her clit and his fingers deep into her canal had served that purpose.

She wasn't in love or anything like that. She didn't love Marcus for having eaten her pussy all those times than she did Vincent for fucking her with his monster cock at some point afterward. But she did realize that she appreciated the man more now that he, too, had used his cock to deliver joy to her.


On the Bridge:

Carla had forgotten just how big Vincent's cock really was until now. He was by far the best-hung man she'd ever had fuck her, and that was saying a lot for a woman who rarely went a handful of days without hooking up with a new cock and the body to which it was attached.

That was one of the major disappointments associated with having come out into the Void with her Husband, Admiral Korlitz, this last deliver assignment. The number of available men with whom to have her fun was greatly diminished by the small crew of the Venture. There had only been 36 Crew from whom to choose, and a handful of them had been women. Oh, Carla enjoyed women, too, particularly if they knew how to handle a strap-on or vibrating dildo. But they'd never been an entirely satisfying substitute for the real thing. Plus, stuck on a ship with the same people for weeks or months at a time ... well, that had just never been Carla Korlitz's thing.

As Vincent's cock popped out before her, Carla smiled and murmured playfully, "Oh, there's my old friend." She went immediately to work on it, licking its full length, taking the bulbous head between her suctioning lips; she used one hand -- wetted by saliva -- to stroke the shaft while the other hand cupped his balls and rolled them about in her fingers. He was far too big -- both in length and girth -- for her to deep throat him, but in conjunction with her wrapping fingers and palm, she did her best to pleasure the full length of Vincent's manhood.

When she knew by his sounds and writhing that she had him hot and bothered, Carla rose suddenly, quickly unfastened her faux-leather pants, and pushed both them and her panties down her thighs. She turned her back to Vincent, moved in between his parted knees, reached back to grasp his shaft, and fed him into her as she sat back into his lap. She cried out at the initial pain of his massive cock intruding upon her, but once he was deep inside, she began to relax.

She grasped his hands, put them on her hips, and said, "Hard, fast, and deep is how momma likes it."

 

[HumanBean]

Portia's Berthing Compartment
Shuttle 5
Enroute to Emmanuel 4
(Main Cargo Transfer Station, Northern Continent):

Marcus laid next to Portia until his heartbeat and breathing had returned almost to normal. Portia hadn't engaged him in conversation. He didn't know whether or not he'd expected her to. They hadn't said much to each other the last time they'd fuck, either. Just a bit of just like that and that feels good and typical sex talk like that.

He began to fear that maybe she was simply waiting for him to leave. They'd completed reentry and were now simply descending on low to no power. The maneuvering engines would kick in when they got close to their destination. But for now, they were simply gliding toward the transfer station.

Finally, Marcus rolled away from Portia, sat up, paused, then stood. "I should get to the bridge. Vincent will want me to finish there. Let him go to the engine room in case we have an issue."

If Portia said nothing to stop him, Marcus would dress and depart. He would, though, tell her, "I like that better than the old way."


On the Bridge:

Carla's mouth and hands were magical upon Vincent's cock. Her years of experience with God knows how many men (and women?) had made her worthy of the most upscale brothels in the Quadrant. He didn't expect her to deepthroat him, of course. He'd only met one woman who'd been able take his full length down her gullet. Oh, and there'd been the cyborgs. But they weren't real women.

He was beginning to writhe and seriously moan when Carla suddenly rose stripped her lower half, and mounted him. Vincent grasped her hips to help her aboard. He gave out a long, low groan as her tightness swallowed him inch by inch. He feared hurting her, and her sounds told him she was feeling some pain.

But she took all of him, then said over her shoulder, "Hard, fast, and deep is how momma likes it."

Vincent laughed, responding, "A good boy does what momma tells him to do."

Holding her hips tightly in powerful hands, he slid Carla back and forth in his lap. He gave it to her as she'd asked: hard, fast, and deep. Even after he came with a loud grunt, his mind spinning in the euphoria, Vincent continued pummeling her pussy. He wouldn't stop until she told him to. And maybe, if it took some time, he'd cum again? One could only hope.