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Chapter One: Frustration, All Around

This hotel room is cheap, so god damn cheap. We literally just got paid, credits should be in the process of transferring into our accounts as we speak, and yet she still drags me to this shithole and does so every time. There has to be something about these places that turn her on or at least play into her fantasy because we always have the dirtiest, kinkiest sex at these places. When our bodies are in stasis and our minds connect via neural net connections our lovemaking is sweet, sensuous and almost always high class. Today is a dirty day and I know this the second the door slides shut behind us. The bed floats in the center of the room, a long and oval shaped pod that fits all species that may check into this fucking dive. Jenna heads to the controls at the foot of the bed and punches in some codes which causes four posts to rise up where the corners would be if this was a rectangular bed. I guess it’s gonna be one of those kind of days, I can feel my arousal levels rising already.

“Get undressed, now.” She commands. “When done climb into bed onto your back.”

“Yes, mistress,” I reply, engines running at full speed.

Quickly I unzip the front of my one piece and pull off my boots, setting the boots by the dresser and when I get my uniform off I fold it neatly and stack it on top of my boots. My mistress gets quite displeased if I do not follow her rules and her first rule is cleanliness and order in her space. The second is to follow instructions, to the letter. My white sports bra and panties come off next and get folded up, set on top of the uniform. Turning around I see my mistress, my lover, Jenna. Her short, very dark, hair is pulled into a little ponytail with not a single hair out of place. I have no idea how she manages to keep it like that. She’s pulled out four straps from her work bag and is working on affixing them to the bed. Her body is thin and lithe, standing no more than five foot four. Jenna has slight curves, just enough to drive me wild, the curviest part being her backside.

“What are you waiting for?” Her tone is curt, to the point. She has spun on her heel and is giving her most serious look.

I scramble up into the floating pod and my mistress grabs my right arm. Tenderly, almost ritualistically, she sets about taking away my power and ability to move. Once I’m strapped in I get that usual rush of feelings: first a wave of fear over not being able to move that is immediately replaced with a feeling of relief. Because I trust her I willingly release my power to her. My mistress has earned the right of my submission. As the feeling of relief passes I feel myself sinking into my subspace. My mistress bends down, reaching into the bag, and soon returns with the gag. It is wild how the design of these things hasn’t changed in over a thousand years. In the sex log section of the neural net you can find records of ball gags with their leather straps and red rubber going back to the twentieth century on the long dead planet that we descended from: Earth. That is a planet many, many systems over and has been dead since its sun imploded.

With the gag in place and my voice sufficiently restrained it is time for us to begin the game. My mistress removes first her boots and then her uniform, a white and grey one piece that like mine that hugs every curve. When those are removed and stacked neatly next to my own uniform I can see that body of hers. The slender hips, her very visible abs showing below the half tank top (black) and black panties. Our game always starts the same way: she will work on me till I give the signal that I fully submit, shown by me shaking my head up and down four times. She slowly walks up to the side of the bed, reaching her hand out and lightly touching my thigh. Her touch is divine, just enough to trace a line of heat wherever her fingers go. Starting on the outside she traces her finger up my thigh and then to my taut stomach. As it passes my bellybutton I experience an uncontrollable quiver, something she knew would happen, and her face lights up in a smile.

Still moving her fingertip she moves upwards, towards my breasts. It makes a light circle around the nipple, going hard in anticipation, but frustratingly not touching it directly. She stays just outside the areola before tracing its way up my throat. When she reaches my chin the finger extends, forcing my head upwards and I stare at the dingy wall of this dump. With her finger still forcing me into this slightly uncomfortable position she leans her body over the bed. The edge of her tank top brushes up against my hard nipple causing me to jump again, I can feel her thighs pressed against my sides and then her face fills up my vision. Her narrow, cat like eyes, stare directly into mine. I can’t help but notice how beautiful she looks, even from the awkward position and angle. When she leans down and kisses my lips, as well as the gag, my eyes close in pleasure. I want her porno film tongue in my mouth, I chafe against this restraint. My mistress senses this discomfort and grins, knows she has me.

I hear a loud buzzing from my own bag on the floor, next to my boots. Jenna looks at me and I vigorously shake my head, no. After a few moments the buzzing stops and then I hear another buzzing, this time from her bag. Jenna gets an annoyed and frustrated look on her face as she gets up from the bed and walks towards the bag. She pulls out the backup comms link, we have both shut off our direct neural net connections. Neither of us likes the idea of either Mother, the computer system of our ship, nor Nero, the ships android, having access to these memories. They belong to us and us alone.

“Captain Markos is calling,” she says, eyebrow cocked, waiting for my answer.

Again I shake my head no. We just completed four back to back runs with the accompanying time in stasis and I want this, want it so bad that I can feel my core is already dripping wet. The smell of it is starting to filling the room. It is the fuel of my mistress, we both need this, and the Captain can fucking wait. He’ll be pissed we disconnected, again, but I’ll deal with the chewing out later. Jenna drops the back up comm, normally worn on the wrist, back into her bag and crawls up onto the foot of the bed, in between my waiting legs. Another tremble ripples through my body.

“Now, my pet, where were we?” She looks at me with that lust filled expression upon her face.

My mistress places a gentle, very light, kiss on the inside of my knee. I cannot help but make a purring sound behind my gag. Moving half an inch up she gives me another kiss, just as light. I let my head fall back onto the pillow and close my eyes, waiting for my mistress to really begin the game of getting me to submit. With the next kiss she leaves her mouth there, sucking in on the flesh slightly. Letting it out she immediately sticks the tip of her tongue out, starts to trace her way upwards. She makes her way up my thigh until she hits my spot, that strange cluster of nerves on the inside of the thigh which causes me to moan lightly. At that sound she pulls back and I let out a load breath, waiting for what she does next. Next thing I know she’s taken that bit of skin into her teeth and pulled out, sending a jolt of passion throughout my body.

“Hrroww!” I shout through the gag, head shooting up from the bed and looking down at her.

She throws me her most sadistic grin and lets it go before turning to my other thigh. Taking that section into her mouth she repeats the action, causing another explosion to ripple through my body. My core aches, my lizard brain begging me to submit so that she can begin to truly punish me but I resolve myself to hang on a bit longer. If I let her win so early, the game is designed for me to “lose” but also win in the terms of orgasms, it will go straight to her head. A mistress needs a healthy but not too large ego so I fight against the urges, trying my best to hold on. With each bite, which she alternates with light kisses, I feel that resolve start to weaken. Looking down I see that there a red, circular marks up and down the insides of my thighs. Right as she has my clit between her lips, sucking in as hard as she can and pushing me right about over the edge, there’s a very loud banging at the door. My whole body jumps, straining against the bonds. Jenna, meanwhile, doesn’t flinch. Instead she shoots me another annoyed look and takes her time walking to the door. I let my body go limp, I was so close to giving her the sign.

“Is she presentable?” I hear a gruff voice from the other side of the cracked door.

“Five minuets, Captain.” Jenna gives a curt response and shuts the door again.

Goddamn him! I shout in my mind. He just had to show up, fuck with our leave time. He keeps doing this and it’s starting to piss us both off. Jenna has an apologetic look on her face as she makes her way to the bed. She’s in no rush, she bends to no man’s will even if that man is her captain. Starting with my gag she starts to release me from my bonds.

“What does he fucking want?” I hiss.

“He wouldn’t say. Looked pissed though,” her voice is laced with regret. This is an orgasm lost for the both of us.

We take our time getting into uniform again, the material hugging our bodies tight. As I’m pulling on my boots I nod to her and she walks over and opens the door again. Captain Markos, tall and broad shouldered, barges in. His face is dark with anger, cheeks beet red just above his scruffy beard. I see that he has shaved his head again, right down to the skull. More and more he is starting to look less like our old captain, he of the shaggy haircut and loose attitude, and much more like a Confederation soldier. Jenna closes the door behind him as he invades our space, during our leave time. While he stands there and glowers at me she walks japon porno over and sits down next to me on the bed.

“How many times have I told you to not disconnect?” He angrily demands.

“It’s our leave time. Nothing in the contract stipulates being connected at all times, only when on a mission. And if you haven’t been counting, you’ve run us on four without a fucking break.” I calmly reply, his eyes narrow at this slight insubordination.

“Don’t start, Ortega. If you’re gonna disconnect then you have to be reachable by the backup comms link. Why didn’t you answer that?” He doesn’t let me answer. “You are my lieutenant, Delphine.”

“Seriously, we’ve been on leave for less than four hours. What is the emergency? Can’t you give us a day, at least?”

“The Company has sent over a time sensitive mission, we have no choice but to head back out, first thing tomorrow and we have to prep the ship tonight.”

“You’re gonna push this crew past the breaking point. Company guidelines states no more that three runs without a month’s down time. We blew past that already with the last run which was far more dangerous than we were prepared for.” I’m working hard to keep my cool.

“A rash of suicides on Mining Colony 7 has forced the Company to scramble. Trust me, I argued with them about this mission as well, same as I did on the one before it but our ship is not only the fastest in the fleet but we are the closest to the colony. We have to get a new crew out there, ASAP.”

“That’s bullshit, sir, with all due respect. We are four systems over from the Colonies and I know for goddamn sure that there’s a Company ship in that own system.”

“Don’t argue with me, Ortega, just round up McMannus and Fenster and get them to the ship, now. I have to work on obtaining supplies.”

“Sir, yes sir,” I half heartedly reply but he’s already turned and left the room.

The door slides shut behind him and I hang my head in defeat. Jenna slides an arm around my shoulder and pulls me in for a slight hug. Then she stands up, she’s never been one for wasting time, and I stand up with her. When she takes a step towards the door I reach out and grab her by the wrist, stopping her in her tracks and pulling her back towards me. As she’s spinning I catch her in my arms and hug her body close to me. With a slight smile on my face I lean in and kiss her. The kiss is slow and deep, our tongues entering each other’s mouth, taking in a deep breath I pull her body in closer to mine. I’m nearly overwhelmed from the feeling of regret, that we didn’t get a chance to do this tonight. Deep down I know that we’ll be able to get close for the time that we’re in stasis as our ship hurtles towards Mining Colony 7 but I was still craving some of this sex.

“Well,” I say regretfully when we break. “Let’s head down to the red light district to pull Fenster and McMannus from their revelry.”

We pick up our bags, sling them over our shoulders and head out. I have half a mind of sending the hotel bill to Markos since he’s cut our leave short. We step into the small, four person elevator and she reaches out and hits the ground button. As we head down from the 551st floor of our hotel I sneak a kiss of Jenna’s neck. She purrs in approval. I want to fuck her so bad, images on me strapped and gagged on the bed dance in my mind. Letting my bag drop I walk her into the corner of our small elevator, still kissing her neck. Jenna’s hand reaches around my body and grips my backside, pulling me in closer to her, right as her back comes up against the back of the elevator. The elevator comes to a rough stop and the doors slide open with a ding. I let my head drop onto her shoulder and let out a loud sigh.

“Come on,” she says with a pat on my ass. “No point in dragging this out.”

Dejectedly I grab my bag and we step out into the bustling lobby of this hotel. Being right on the border with the red light district the floor is full of people draped all over each other. With a nearby settlement of Arturians, the most desired of species in all of the galaxies when it comes to sex, the majority of the room is Arturian. Tall and very thin, with skin that is a slight purplish hue, the Arturians always stand out. Most stand well over eight feet tall, ranging upwards to ten feet, and have an androgynous look to their bodies. Their males have well been known to attract straight men and their females straight women. The saying goes: It doesn’t matter, it was Arturian. Jenna and I, holding hands, make our way to the door and step out into the bustling street of this city.

Tamur is the capital city of this planet, Tamurales, and is a large and diverse city. The buildings stretch high up into the sky. Looking up I can see the buildings disappear into the clouds knowing that they stretch up for many floors beyond that. In the spaces where the greenish clouds break up I can see the deep purple rings of this planet. Sky taxi’s zip konulu porno around between the buildings as they get people to their destinations. I reconnect my brain to the neural net and my mind is flooded with information sent to me via our ship, the C.S.S Elagabalus.

“Mother, send me the locations of Petty Officers Fenster and McMannus.” I command. My mind fills up with information as Mother searches for our other crew members.

“P.O. Fenster is located in an establishment called Short Rounds, located in south central Tamur. Coordinates have been uploaded into your neural net. P.O. McMannus is located in the same establishment. Records indicate Short Rounds is a bar and brothel, P.O. Fenster may be in congress with an Arturian.”

“Oh course he is,” I mutter.

“Captain Markos has ordered all members back to the ship, I am sending you the coordinates for Sergeant Hwang to your neural net.” Mother’s voice rings out in my head in its electronic, flat tone. While slightly female, my designation, it can be male or gender neutral based on specification.

“Not needed Mother, she’s with me.” When I speak to Mother it looks like I’m talking to myself but many people communicate via neural net, at least in our section of the Confederation, and it is not uncommon to see one talking to themselves.

Most of the systems in the known universe are members of a loose confederation called the Confederation of Planetary Systems, COPS or just the Confederation for short. Membership to the Confederation grants a system access to trade partnerships, facilitated by the Company, as well as military protection. As a member a system must be democratically ruled, secular in governance, and provide troops, supplies and ships to the Confederation military. There are a handful of systems on the outer fringes of the known universe that do not participate in the confederation for reasons that vary from theocratic rule to pacifism or lack of technological advancement. There is one system, a large one not far from the location of the now dark and uninhabited Milky Way system, that not only will not participate in the Confederation but they openly rebel against it. The Jolanai system and their rebellion is quite close to where we currently are, much closer to us than the Colonies. The Colonies is a loose term to describe a system that until its discovery by Confederation, and Company, sanctioned explorers on the C.S.S. Mayflower, was uninhabited. It has been a boon for the Company’s coffers as every single planet that circles the system’s red sun is mineral or resource rich. Mass tera-forming operations have been furiously underway while the Company, like locusts, works on stripping every planet in the system.

Still hand in hand Jenna and I make our way to Short Rounds. Mother didn’t need to send me the coordinates to Short Rounds for as soon as one steps into the red light district of Tamur all traffic flows towards this brothel. The streets of the red light district are full of people, much like our hotel it’s composed of all races, and all of the ground level windows are full of eye candy. There are dancing, half naked, Arturian men and women, female humans, Quncian’s (they lack any gender) plus a few other races that escape my tongue. When we step into the dingy, dirty Short Rounds our senses are assaulted: loud, Tamurian style music (heavy on the steel drum and very, very danceable) blasts into our ears, the smell of sweat, liquor and sex fills our nostrils and we’re nearly blinded by the flashing lights that cut through the thick smoke of the room.

“I see McMannus,” Jenna leans in and shouts into my ear.

I see her pointing at a long bar at the far side of the room. P.O. McMannus is always easy to find in a crowded room. He stands at six foot six and has fiery red hair that he wears in the newly come back fashion of under shaved. The sides and back are cropped close to the skull while the top is long enough to reach his ear. From here I can see him slamming back shots of liquor two at a time. Leading the way, Jenna and I cut our way across the dance floor, passing many sweaty Arturian’s whose pheromones fill the air. Not like I wasn’t horny already, I curse Captain Markos under my breath again. When we reach him he’s turning around to look at the dance floor, most likely he’s drunk enough to now find his own Arturian. He see’s the both of us and curses loudly.

“McMannus!” I call out as he’s trying to leave.

“Damnit, Ortega! Can’t a guy get a break?” He whines, his voice slurring.

“Take it up with Markos, he interrupted us as well,” I pause to hook a thumb at Jenna. “He said we got some time sensitive transport run we have to make to the Colonies.”

“That motherfucker! I’ve been dreaming of some Arturian for months now and there’s none in the Colonies. Tell him that’s a no go.”

“I already tried, McMannus. Get your ass back to the ship pronto while we roust Fenster.” I order.

“He’s gon’ be pissed,” McMannus warns, not like I didn’t know that already. “I bet you find him mid-thrust.”

“I don’t doubt that, now get home.” When he leaves I connect with Mother. “Mother, get the coffee ready and tell Nero to prepare the alcohol reduction injections.”

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