Space Princess: Ill-Met By Moonlite

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction written for adult entertainment. Any resemblance of any characters herein to real persons, living or dead, or to copyrighted characters in or out of print circulation or broadcast syndication, is purely coincidental. Erotic content includes graphic depictions of sex, of fetish-related themes and of fantasy non-consensual sexual behaviours and situations. If you find such material disturbing or incompatible with your morals, and/or if you are below the adult age in your country, state, province or county, then read no further. The author does not seek to encourage or condone hateful and criminal actions toward people of either gender or of any species.

PREFACE: This is a parody inspired by vintage late-sixties SF, in particular a certain series whose title rhymes with Snarr Freck. It consists in the main of lighthearted, slightly campy vintage sci-fi smut, but be warned of two things: first, it's long, with lots of plot; second, some of the hardcore sexual content includes subject matter not for the faint of heart.

PROLOGUEThe touches of vulnerability he'd seen in her only made her confidence more impressive. And more alluring. He cleared his throat. "It was hardly just me, Your Highness," he said modestly. "Captain Hollander pulled out all the stops in that banquet tonight."

"Yes, she did, of course. Their observation deck is a wonder. I've never seen my home from the outside before, I was humbled."

"Humbled?" He gave a low chuckle. "You, Your Highness?"

She smiled at him over her shoulder, her antennae waving, her eyes disarmingly gentle, the tiara at her brow twinkling. The winsome expression combined with the stunning rearward view of her naked body to make his mouth go dry, his temples throb... his ramrod stiffness pulse with a lust that shamed him, and only grew more intense with the knowledge of that shame. "Do I seem so prideful to you, My Lord?" she said, her voice like lilting music.

"You seem magnificent to me, Your Highness." It was the only thing he could think to say. As her eyes shone silently at the compliment, he cleared his throat and added: "Um, I don't think replicated wine can match the organic vintage they served tonight. But we could use one more glass, yes?" At her nod, he turns to the matter-compiler. "Two glasses of chardonnay." The flutes of wine materialized, and he carried them over. He was acutely conscious of her eyes on his as they toasted silently and drank.

As she lowered her glass, though, she looked a touched troubled and distracted.

"What is it, Your Highness?" He wanted to wipe the disquiet from her face, to restore that soft contentment.

"I just," she said, faltered for a moment and then found her voice again: "I hope I can eventually be friends with all of your fine people. Naomi's feelings I understand... but Miss Oona's dislike..."

"Oona's dislike?" This surprised him; more than that, the sadness in her voice was like a cut in his flesh. "I thought she seemed genuinely to admire you."

"Women can be very subtle about these things, My Lord," the Princess reminded him. "And Miss Oona is a very subtle woman. She makes so many little innocent-sounding remarks, but with hidden barbs..."

"Could it be that her remarks sound innocent because they are?" he countered gently. "Perhaps you're being unfair, Your Highness."

"Perhaps you're right," she conceded. "Although the way she was always watching me... well, I hope you're right." The barb of her doubt stuck in his mind, but the pain faded a little as her eyes, wandering, suddenly alighted on a massive trunk in the far corner of his quarters. "My goodness, whatever is that?"

He smiled bashfully. "Oh, just a project I'm working on, Highness. You wouldn't find it very interesting, it's... well, it's technical."

"Oh. Then you're right." She chuckled musically, self-deprecating, making him want to laugh with her, so he did. But now in her turn she noticed the intensity of his eyes on hers, and blushed slightly. "My Lord... you stare."

"Forgive me, Highness." At close range, her beauty made him light-headed. His mouth seemed to lead a life of its own: "I just... I know so little about you. Your home, your people, your kingdom. Yet you remind me so much of... of a people that my ancestors back on Earth told many wonderful stories about. Stories that inspired me since I was a child, that inspired my work. You look like those stories made flesh, I even dare to think your people may be the true story behind them... and... and I want to know everything about you."

The heat in her answering gaze made him painfully aware, once again, of the throbbing, stiff organ at his crotch. "And I," she said. "I would like to know... everything about you, My Lord."

"Well, to start with, I'm not a Lord." He smiled ruefully, secretly terrified that this revelation might turn her off. "I really am just 'Doctor' Karl Cullen. You deserve to know that."

She shook her head, setting down her drink on a nearby table. "Your honesty speaks well of you," she said, stepping forward, making him swallow hard as she put her arms loosely around his shoulders. "But let me tell you what a Lord truly is, to my people. A Lord is a man of drive, of vision... of power. A man who knows what he wants, and takes it. A man who doesn't fear his desires, or his dreams."

His breath caught as she came close against him, the delicate scent of her making his head spin, her back arching as she pressed herself in... moving seductively, thrilling that long, hard length in his jumpsuit, making it even bigger, thicker, harder. Her voice was husky as she whispered in his ear: "I think you are a Lord, 'Doctor' Cullen. I think you are My Lord."

A sudden incandescence of desire flared up in him, boiling away the uncertainties, the shyness, the shame. He tossed his wine glass away, letting it roll on the floor as they melted into a passionate, consuming kiss, their tongues performing an ancient choreography of pure instinct. Before he knew what he was doing, he was sweeping her light, lissome body up in his arms, carrying her into the bedroom, throwing her on the mattress with a roughness that would have embarrassed him a moment before... those dark eyes shining lustfully up at him as he ripped off his clothes like a man possessed, those sweet lips gasping as her fingers worked on the wet, pink flesh under her dark thatch until, finally naked, he threw himself on her like an animal, tasting her soft skin with a hungry mouth, sucking and biting at her perfect breasts, her long and graceful throat, pulling her into another devouring kiss as his meaty shaft pulsed hot and hard against her thigh.

"Mmmm... mmm-hmmm..." she moaned luxuriantly, sucking his tongue into her mouth and swirling her own around it, almost fellating it. Like her laughter, her moans were music. Her mouth was ambrosia. Her hot flesh was supple honeyed lust, made to be caressed and tasted. Her fingernails raked lightly at his hard chest through its pelt of thick hair. Her hands were fire all over him, stroking him, clutching at him, igniting him. He wanted to hear her moan again and again. He ached to be inside her... but he had enough restraint left to hold off. Not yet... not yet...

He broke off, bit and kissed and licked his way down, down, down...

"Ahhhhhh... AHHHhhh..." Her fingers laced themselves in his long hair as he tasted her. Her sex was fragrant, slippery, hot... she was the sweetest he'd ever tasted, and he was something of a connoisseur. His mentorships at the Academy weren't always chaste, but for all the young beauties he'd enjoyed in his years there, he had known nothing that could hold a candle to this... to devouring this otherworldly creature's sultry, honeyed quim like a fine meal, making her hips writhe, her delicious pink slit grinding into his face as he drove her closer, closer, closer...

Her hands tightened painfully in his hair, the unmistakable signal that she couldn't bear to wait any longer. Neither could he. Sliding back up her body with almost brutal urgency, he lost himself in her eyes as he canted his hips... found the soft wet heat of her yielding, ready opening... and drove his nine-inch weapon home as hard as he could!

"OHHHHHH!" she cried out, and then as he started to move in her, stirring her molten honey-pot with that thick, long manhood: "Oh Oh OHHHhhh my Lord... so powerful... so strong... Ohh Ohh OHHhh OHHhh OHHHhhh... MMMmmm..." She drew him in for another kiss, sucked and bit his bottom lip as he pounded her, gasped her passion hotly into his mouth as his strokes started to penetrate harder, faster, deeper, her breasts shaking, her whole body shuddering, her legs spreading wide to give him maximum access: "OHHH-OHHH-OHHHH-OHHHH-OHHHH... my Lord CUL-Len... you feel incredible... OHHHhhh my GOD..."

She drew his head down to her shoulder, holding him in place as she arched and writhed against him with urgent need and he rattled the bed with his thrusts, wrapping her legs around him and digging the nails of one hand deep into the rippling muscles of his back as he pummelled her, wet sounds starting to emerge from the slick tunnel between her thighs as his shaft plumbed and plundered the depths of her quivering, wanton pussy, their sweat-slicked bodies moving together in a rhythm as old as the bedrock of a thousand million worlds.

With his head down, he didn't see the strange flickers of light dancing around her tiara. Nor could he see her eyes, open and alert now as she went on gasping her seductive encouragements into his ear.

"My Lord..." She slid her hand down to clasp at a muscular, flexing buttock, drawing him deeper into her. "You are My Lord... Lord and Master... yes... TAKE what you want... fuck your little Princess... I am yours... YESSS..."

And all the while she stared, her expression fathomless and dispassionate, into the gathering shadows.

* * *"The original idea was surgery-by-'caster," he said. "But I decided, why not go one better? I'll leave the really technical explanation for the Science Council, but basically the Cullen Effect 'casts an existing pattern into high-domain hyperspace, 'borrows' matter from the inter-dimensional substrate, then brings it back and reassembles it according to a recorded, healthy pattern." He nodded at the petunias. "And if I don't have a recorded pattern on hand, I can reverse-engineer one from the existing data. Like I did with these petunias. The resulting clone is, essentially, an ideal version of the original. I call it the Regenerator."

The entire room was thunderstruck. Captain Hollander said: "Exactly. Now you all know why I thought it was important."

"Karl... you've really done it." Dr. Bell sounded, despite everything, impressed. Even awed. "This really could change everything."

"Yes," Cullen nodded. But he was looking at Arwyn, whose eyes were shining up at him again. "And now I've been handed an early chance to test it. I can go to Earth with proof that the Process works on humanoids... if we help the Princess. If I take it to the Sojin moon - to Seelie - and use it to heal her brother."

* * *"True." A little tartness crept through, and he shook in rueful laughter as she said: "But you have me anyway, Karl. Talk to me."

He wiped at his face, gathered himself together a bit, nodded. "You have to know, she comes from a people who... well, if the old legends hold any truth, they set great store by revelry. It's what they would fall back on in times of stress." Getting up now, he started to pace. "She knows her uncle is coming for her. He's out there now, getting closer, she knows it's him. She doesn't know what he'll do if he captures her. Her only hope," his expression grew more frantic now: "Her only hope is to get off this ship, with me. Get back to her home and restore her brother, get his help in freeing her people. And the longer she stays on this ship, the more remote that hope is getting... and the more reckless she's getting."

"She might have found it helpful if we could hyper-jump away from here," Naomi pointed out. "I heard what her fans did to the engines."

Karl just shook his head. "She doesn't... she's not used to thinking ahead like that. She's kind of an innocent in a lot of ways." He coloured when she just arched an eyebrow at this. "I know that sounds like a strange thing to say, but it's true. She, she needs our help." After a moment he added: "And it's Ecstasy's only hope, too. Your Captain Hollander, she doesn't see that. But it's not too late to save your ship."

"I wouldn't bet on the Captain's not having thought it through," said Bell seriously. "But, this really means a lot to you, doesn't it?"

Cullen nodded miserably, then comes back over to her, flinging himself down on his knees before her with such sudden drama that she jumped.

"It's not why you think, Naomi, I swear it isn't," he said, taking hold of her hands, looking in her eyes as if searching for something lost, but just on the edge of being found again. "I know all the rumours that are flying, they're not true, I swear they're not true! When I came on this ship, when I saw you... I knew that Space Princess has its name for a reason. You're my love, my true Princess, and that's never stopped being true, ever." He reached up a hand to stroke her cheek. She let herself lean into it, closing her eyes briefly. "It's... it's you that I want, Naomi. But this work, this kind of discovery, it's what I've lived for. There would be no me to love you if that wasn't true."

She kept her eyes closed for just a moment, kissing his palm, letting herself enjoy the illusion, just... indulging herself for a little bit. That was a nice speech, she wanted to say. A little over-rehearsed, a bit florid, but still... nice. "There would be no me to love you" was particularly good. It's just too bad you're such a rotten liar, Karl.

Opening her eyes again, she saw him smiling hopefully up at her. He'd meant the speech to be a game-changer, and it was: she saw him clearly for what felt like the first time. And the man who'd been able to instantly melt her with a dreamy look and a few choice words about her brilliance was gone. What she saw was a salesman, praying for a deal to come through. Worse: an errand boy, sent here by another woman. She allowed herself a single tear, a concession to grief at the lessening of a man she'd admired intensely for so long. But mostly, she felt free. The hurt, the yearning for him, was gone.

He misinterpreted that tear, of course, he who'd always seemed so sure in his judgement of women. He wiped it away, tried on that vaguely fatherly look that had come so very close to getting him into her panties at the Academy. That had probably worked on a dozen other girls just like her.

Normally, Naomi Bell was a rotten liar, too. She always felt so guilty about lying that she could never keep up a front for long. But she remembered that message on her computer, and realized that for Karl Cullen, she's willing to make an exception just this once. Let me think... how would Oona play it?

"Do you mean it, Karl?" She let him see the touch of sadness, knowing by now that he'd misread it. "Do you really mean it, truly?"

"Of course I do," he said. "Naomi, of course I do." And he stood up, pulling her up with him into a passionate embrace, his strong arms wrapping around her and gathering her in for a long, deep kiss.

She allowed herself to yield into his arms, to enjoy it as pure physical sensation, his agile tongue having its way, his rugged strength heating her carnal desire. You may be a shallow, self-involved jerk when all is said and done, she thought, but you really are a fine kisser. As she broke off the kiss, looking up at him, she came to another decision. And I'm not putting myself through this without at least finding out what I missed out on at the Academy.

"If it means that much to you, if I mean that much to you," she whispered. "Then I'll help you. Both of you. But only," she let in a note of randy playfulness, tracing a finger across his muscular chest: "Only if you really convince me."

He Regenerated his boyish ladykiller grin. "My quarters?"

"No," she said huskily. "Mine."

* * *God, she thought to herself. I just feel so fucking hot and slutty with my tongue up Arwyn's cunt and all these men watching me that I could do anything. It flashed across her mind that she was as ready for dick by this point as anything else, that she knew they'd just slide balls-deep inside her like I've been smeared with Thalian no-friction lube, that - despite her earlier feelings about the spectacle the men were putting on - it would be kind of beautiful to have them ramming up inside her, just using her like a dirty little toy for their perverted pleasures. The thoughts were out of character for her, she wondered where they were coming from but they didn't stop: God what I'd give for a dick in my pussy right now, a cock full of hot spunk to just blow inside me and get my hole all sloppy...

But Arwyn had other priorities: it wasn't long before the Princess was lifting her hips even higher and grabbing her gift's golden locks, forcing Lily's head down, and before Lily quite realized what was happening she found herself eating out the tight and tangy entrance to the glorious royal cornhole. "Mmmphhh," she moaned as she instinctively started to tongue-fuck it, tasting it all tight and hot and pungent, the sheer filthiness of the act making her so hot that she felt a minor orgasm ripple through her own dripping cooze without even touching herself, her pussy quivering and clutching and her juices dripping from her slit onto the deck beneath her. She couldn't quite believe how horny she was feeling from being made to act so dirty, but a part of her also felt a touch of feisty indignation at the beautiful bitch who'd just made her eat ass in front of all those men... but that also made her even hotter in turn.

Lily was aching to touch herself now but also wanted to give Arwyn some payback for turning her into a public rimjob-giving slut, so she brought up her left hand to take charge of the royal clit - just thrumming it and rubbing it and flicking it and working it till she could hear the Princess crying out as her pussy creamed and her juices flowed down to anoint her ass and drip deliciously all over her paramour's tongue - and Lily brought up her other hand, took two fingers and waited for Arwyn's grip on her hair to loosen just a little. The second the opportunity presented itself, she pulled her mouth away and lined those two fingers up with Arwyn's cunt and her cornhole and rammed them home as hard as she could!

Arwyn went wild, thrashing as the pleasure arced through her, thrashing even harder when Lily glued her mouth back to that clit and suckled it as she started pumping those fingers in and out as hard and fast as she could, making the Princess scream her lungs out and drench her in squirted girl juices amidst all her writhing and bucking and moaning.

Finally Gallagher could stand no more, she couldn't help it, she had to touch herself. Bringing her left hand down and spreading her legs wider, she reached down and took three fingers and shoved them home, right down to the third knuckle!

"NNNNGHHHH..." her grunt of desire sounded like it came from outside her, and Lily could have sworn she felt the whole ship lurch around her in that moment. That first touch sent orgasm wrenching and clutching through her insides, but she couldn't stop from finger-fucking herself as hard as she was fucking the hot bitch in front of her, her fingers picking up speed as she squealed her way through the eruption of another climax, and then another, the waves shuddering deliciously through her body one after another... after another... "HMMMHHHMMMPHHHH!"

As the pair of them finally came out of it - their bodies glowing with sweat as they panted in the wake of their immersion in passion, the breathing of the men hot and heavy all around them - Arwyn looked down at her gift, stroking her hair with something almost like gentle affection.

Then the Princess slapped her across the face. Hard. And looking up at her sexy alien mistress through the blur of tears, feeling the heat of desire boil back up in her tight honeypot again, Dr. Lily Gallagher knew that her mission was just beginning.

* * *Maybe she's right, the thought flashed across Hollander's fogged, reeling brain. Maybe it's best to just submit... And she froze in horror as she saw how transparent this thought was to Oberon, whose merciless smile grew wider.

"It is time," he said. "You are a ripe fruit. Ready to fall."

She gritted her teeth and stared back at him, refusing to dignify this with an answer. But he wasn't waiting for one. He simply made a gesture to his men... answered by shouts of jubilation as they took their assault to the next stage.

Screams came from Nagata and Mitchell, yowls of fury from Vitani as their bikinis were crudely ripped from them, first the tops and then the bottoms, leaving their beautiful bodies and wet, ready pussies completely exposed. Nagata's captors squeezed and sucked her pert titties as she writhed and whipped her head back and forth in denial. Vitani's unwanted lovers playfully traced the dark tiger-stripes in her short, silvery fur to the edges of the pale patch at her belly that could now be seen to flare out and highlight her long, dark nipples, and to offset the dripping pink slice of her sex. Mitchell's captors marvelled at the tan lines that set apart the petite auburn-haired beauty's supple breasts and pert arse from the rest of her sun bronzed flesh, almost as if she were wearing a second bikini underneath. They amused themselves by smacking her pale up-thrust arse as she sobbed, looking fearfully over her shoulder as one of them climbed between her firm legs, just as attackers were arraying themselves between Nagata and Vitani's splayed thighs. Each had his mighty, throbbing weapon in hand, lining it up in readiness for the first thrust.

Meanwhile, Oberon had laced his fingers in Kestan's hair and lifted the Shiran up to look at him. "You have done well, Maid Kestan," he told her. "You are on your way to earning an honoured place among my concubines. Now, though... now you must show your Captain what a woman's mouth is truly for. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," breathed the sexy Shiran. "I obey..." And as he released her hair, her head dropped instantly into his lap.

Wet, sloppy sounds began to rise as Kestan paid homage to the royal scepter, kissing it, licking it, sucking it deeply as her hindquarters wriggled with her lewd motions. As she tasted the long-denied and pretty piece of flesh, Oberon no longer troubled to stop her as one hand ripped aside the impediment of her bikini bottoms and promptly plunged three fingers deep in her glistening cooze. She moaned loudly around the meat filling her mouth as she stuffed herself.

Hollander looked on in staring horror, flinching as throaty cries of ardour went up from Friday, Gemma and Nuku when their paramours tensed up their muscular buttocks and drove their throbbing members home into their victims' slick, hot and welcoming cunts. Oberon's dark eyes were locked on hers, gloating as he watched the cracks in her resistance start to multiply, her fabulous body writhing and tensing as the sounds and sights of torrid sex shafted into her, as her own pair of captors stroked their cocks and grinned at her in avid anticipation.

Even as the hips of the ravishers started into sinuous, rhythmic motion and the grunts and moans and cries of helpless lust on the bridge began to multiply, the viewscreen flashed back into horrid life, showing the transition from teasing to ravishment taking place all over the ship. In crewgirls' quarters, on the floors of corridors, against the walls of autolifts, the hapless girls and women of the Ecstasy were having their bikini bottoms torn off, yanked down, shoved aside as hot, rampant shafts of fairy manhood invaded and stretched and filled them, their shapely gams jerking, the supple flesh of their sexy arses rippling as the intruders began the terrible, wonderful pumping and plundering of their dripping, greedy twats, their eyes wide in staring horror or squeezed tightly shut as their mouths yielded up raw-throated squeals of conflicted pleasure.

Strange, the thought wanders across her mind. Should they all be reacting this way? Oberon's flowers... maybe some kind of aphrodisiac? Or is it something else?

The thoughts shredded away like gossamer in a storm as in image after image, it became clear that virtually no-one had escaped. Not Ronnie, now being taken hard from behind as her nightmare in Engineering went on and on; not Lily Gallagher, squalling as she bounced on the rampant pole of a fairy who held her by the buttocks and drove her up and down his length; not poor Oona in sickbay, her legs now spread around the pumping hips of one fairy while another worked his tool into the wet warmth of her unconscious, unresisting mouth; not any crewgirl visible on any monitor. Hollander wriggled in sympathy, her own sex clutching and yearning as the cornucopia of ravishment swamped her senses.

But the Captain also realized something else, something that kept a tiny blaze of hope alive inside her. Nowhere in the images did she see Princess Arwyn, or Dr. Karl Cullen... or Dr. Naomi Bell. For all of Oberon's terrifying power, all was not lost.

Unfortunately, that wouldn't be enough to save the Captain's fading dignity now. Oberon nodded to the fairies on either side of her, and she swallowed hard, her stomach flip-flopping as she realized her time had come. The one at her left unceremoniously ripped down her bikini top, freeing her swollen mammaries to jounce and jiggle for the edification of his male gaze as she writhed in her last futile struggle, trying desperately to pull her salivating mouth away from the succulent hard-on he brandished in her face. Meanwhile, the one at her right stepped between her bound, splayed thighs, making her jolt as she felt him push aside the soaked crotch of her bottoms and the blunt, hot head of his manhood nestle against the lubricious mouth of her tingling sex.

"AWWWwww-MMMPHHH!" As the thick, veiny shaft skewers deep into her, Hollander's full-throated cry of passion was cut off as a second tool slides into her mouth. Just like that, she was being fucked at both ends, her blue eyes going wide in shock... and worse, she could feel a tidal wave of orgasm rushing in, her clit pulsing and the walls of her clasping sex quivering in anticipation, the last crumbling remnants of her willpower about to be swept away! "Mmmm-hmmmphhh... mmmphhh..." As she moaned weakly, the squelching sounds from her plundered poontang growing louder and wetter with each thrust, her eyes rolling back in her head and drool dripping down the organ pistoning between her pouty lips, the humiliated Hollander reflected to herself that this business of being a Space Princess Captain wasn't always all it was cracked up to be.

* * *"No, Naomi, no!" Karl whispered urgently into Bell's ear, using all his strength to restrain her as every instinct drove her to leap to the girl's aid, her muscles straining with the urge to drive a boot into the evil creature's face as it gloated and spanked the beauty's plump arse while it reamed her so forcefully. "No... you'll just get us captured! You can't help her!"

"Lord Cullen is right, Doctor." Arwyn's whisper contained a surprising note of something almost like sympathy. "Only Oberon's defeat can save her now. Only my brother. Come, we must go... we are tempting fate as it is."

After a moment, beginning to realize the truth of it, Naomi sagged in his grip. Then the fairy's head came up, his antennae testing the air as he looked around suspiciously, and the goad of fear sent the trio off as quickly and quietly as they could move in the opposite direction.

Naomi moved in dull horror now, her limbs feeling disconnected and her stomach woozy with the realization of what had been happening all around her while she was enjoying her languid sport with Karl Cullen. But there was nothing for it. She fought to keep focused, to work out exactly what they needed to do and how to do it. As they moved through the corridors, she kept a quiet litany going: "Okay, okay... we've got to get to the shuttle bays... can't use the autolifts with the ship in this condition, we'll have to take the long way... we can beam the Regenerator aboard one of the shuttles... do you know how to navigate a shuttle, Karl?"

Cullen nodded, whispers: "Thank you, Naomi. Thank you for doing this."

She shook her head impatiently. "Okay, so we'll have to deactivate the bay's forcefield and activate the matter-caster at close to the same time..." I don't even know why I'm doing this. Because some anonymous computer message told me something incredible... and I don't even know if it was real. Just got to go with my gut... As they rounded another corner, happening across another scene of debauchery with three Crewgirls trapped in different places and positions along a corridor, with three fairies gleefully sporting with them, Naomi suddenly regretted thinking the word "gut" as she felt her gorge rise. "Ugh..." She just barely kept from vomiting as she reeled away into the search for a different route.

Arwyn whispered fiercely: "Doctor, we can't keep changing direction every time we see them. They'll be all over the ship."

"I know, just..." Naomi leaned against a wall for a second, fighting for control. "Just... give me a sec..."

In that moment, the ship's intercom suddenly came alive. The trio froze as, for a long moment, nothing came out of the speakers. But then: "Uhhh... uhhh-uhhh-UHHH... Puh... Princess..."

Naomi froze in horror. That was the Captain's voice!

"Princess... please... this is... uhhh-uhhh-UGHHH it's Captain Huh... Huh... Hollander... mmmhmmmphhh... glllmmmphh..." The rhythms of her moans, the sudden wet sounds of her mouth being filled, left no doubt about what was happening to her. In a moment her voice came back, panting: "Princess, if... if you give yourself up... His... uhhh-unnnhhh-unnnnhhh His Majesty will be... will be puh-pleased with us... he'll... he'll let us be his cuh... his concubines... ughhh ohhh God it's so big... ohhh God... made me cum seven times already... I want this... I want to belong to him... I always want to feel this full, ohhh ohhh OHHH please give him what he WANTS... Princess... His Majesty is merciful... I bet he'll make you feel this good too... I bet he'll make you feel seven times this good... ohhh GOD PLEASE give it to me HAAARD ohhhh FUUU -"

The corridor seemed even more silent than before as the transmission abruptly cuts off. Naomi was dumbstruck for a long moment. Finally she looked at Karl and Arwyn. "Was that... was that really... the Captain?"

Arwyn nodded. "Oberon has broken her. It was only a matter of time. She has begun to crave his affection... to want to be used for his pleasure. She will do almost anything for him, now."

The Doctor looked at Cullen on hearing this, noting that he wouldn't meet her eyes. Sounds familiar. But hearing her Captain so humiliatingly undone only increased her determination. There's no way out of this but forward.

And then suddenly, she realized something about what she just heard on the intercom. Made me cum seven times... seven times this good... seven. She was telling us something, telling me something... telling me where to go? Seven. Seven. A moment more and she had it: shuttle number seven. "Alright," Naomi said, straightening up, all queasiness banished. "Let's do this."

The overgrown corridors echoed with faint cries of feminine lust and despair as the trio moved out.

* * *It took a while before she truly brought reason to bear on the problem. In the meantime her performance in her classes had slipped rapidly, and she had only barely merited admission to the Science Academy to begin with. Within a month she began to receive warnings from instructors that her focus and work ethic were visibly sub-standard. There were complaints from other students that she was "behaving irrationally," which in at least one case was a polite euphemism for the time when several boys came across her masturbating in a remote corner of the Academy gardens. Her parents rejected most such complaints as themselves of questionable grounding... but they also reminded her frequently that it was irrational to waste an opportunity at the Science Academy through inattention and sloth.

Within six months, she was so "horny" that she had begun to think she was slipping back into maktoi abnormally. She went back to the doctor, who certified again that she was physically normal, but this time she improperly reached out during the examination process and grabbed his "dick" and stroked it very slowly, and was very excited to find that it was already of acceptable dimensions and hardness and would likely be able to satisfyingly "fuck" her. Until the doctor summarily ejected her and recommended that she be immediately expelled from the Science Academy.

Of course it was the only rational thing he could do given the regulations. She had understood. Nevertheless it was an inconvenient development. On the other hand it produced the defining moment that set her on her new research path; the moment that took place when she was sent to the Chief Rector of the Academy to hear his verdict on the doctor's recommendation. Chief Rector Hwelik.

The way the interview had unfolded was in retrospect inevitable. Hwelik was a large and broad-chested man of a type she had begun to notice she was physically compatible with, that "got her hot." She wore a tight gown, far shorter than the Academy norm - a style she had taken to wearing because it gave easy access to her "pussy" when she needed to masturbate. For similar reasons she no longer wore undergarments. And when she walked into his office and met his eyes, she could unmistakably read in them the same look she remembered in Awmak when the two of them had first shared: Hwelik was himself in the early stages of maktoi.

He was of an age when his phase would be lal-maktoi, the lust powerful but no longer biologically imperative. Nevertheless, even at such an age, a Shiran man in maktoi could be very vigorous. Kestan had immediately begun thinking about what his "dick" would feel like. She had sat down across from him as he reviewed her file... but her "pussy" was so wet and sensitive that she could barely listen to him. She had tried crossing her legs in different ways, and later realised that each time she did this, she was giving him a long look her "naked snatch." Her breasts had felt full and sensitive and her nipples hard, poking through the gown's fabric, and she had kept trying to adjust the bodice but later concluded that this only drew more of his attention.

Hwelik of course had had a life-mate of many years, but she was off-planet at the time, which may have influenced what had happened next. He had asked her to describe her version of the incident in the doctor's office. "Describe the rational purpose of your actions," was how he'd put it. And she had replied that the rational purpose of her actions was that she felt sexual desire and decided to "assess possibilities for satisfaction." And then she had got up and walked over to him and showed him what she meant by "assess" by grabbing his "cock."

She'd stood there, stroking the throbbing organ through his robes, half-expecting him to throw her out as the doctor had done, that this would be the end of her career in the Science Academy. He'd looked at her... and she could tell that there was a half-and-half chance of his permanently expelling her on the spot and his "fucking" her very hard. He'd opened his mouth to speak, and then he'd closed it, and then he'd grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around and forced her down over his desk. She could hear him ripping his robe open, and then she could feel the head of his "cock at the rearward mouth of her dripping "cunt."

The vigor of the "fuck" he'd proceeded to give her then had led to multiple orgasms and left her close to swooning even as she'd turned around, gone down to her knees and took his "cock" in her mouth and licked and sucked it clean. Neither of us them had said anything afterwards for a long time, until Hwelik pulled himself inside his robes and said: "That was... unfortunate."

Kestan couldn't even stand, just slid to the floor and looked up at him. She was waiting, that was all. She had thought it was the end for certain.

But then he told her something she'd never considered: that she didn't have to study at the traditional Science Academy to contribute to Shiran science. He'd said it was apparent to him that she was physically and temperamentally suited to the research of sexual experiences, and he'd proposed that he could recognize her as an unofficial medical research assistant for the Academy if she were willing to conduct her inquiries into physical pleasure outside its walls.

It had been the rational solution. She'd known by then that she wasn't likely to be a physicist or a theoretical rhiptodynamicist or a master of the Akkat disciplines. Hwelik had known that one or both of them would be thrown out in disgrace if she'd tried to stay. His solution was flawlessly rational... allowing that the combination of maktoi and her own actions had placed him an irrational situation to start with.

And so she'd left - a decision her parents thought was poorly premised and had yet to be persuaded otherwise, but she'd done what had to be done. She'd spent another half a year as a waitress and bartender at a hwa-lin, a coffee house where young men in maktoi and without bonding prospects went to seek satisfaction, and she'd dispatched accounts of her adventures there regularly to Rector Hwelik. And eventually she'd applied to Space Princess Entertainment... partly in a quest to find again the kind of intense sexual experiences she'd enjoyed with Awmak and Hwelik.

Experiences like that had been harder to find than she had expected. Which was why, as the present moment came back to the forefront, she was finding "Oberon" particularly satisfactory as a research subject. Whatever his real name, Kestan reflected as she slammed her wet sex down the length of his throbbing staff: He is... considerably virile. A most... interesting male.

Her buxom body - clad in nothing now but her boots - was lathered with sweat, her dark hair plastered down with it. Oberon was drenched from the heat of their passion too, his dark eyes always looking into hers, his teeth occasionally baring themselves as he dug his fingers into her soft arse and rammed her down his hot length. The volcanic Shiran could feel another eruption building in her channel, her clitoris pulsing and swelling, her walls quivering as his thick manhood plunged into her, stirring her honeyed juices into a froth of lust.

That's my... my twelfth orgasm coming, she thought, only a little disjointedly. She'd been keeping careful count. That this strange alien man should be able to keep pace with her with such ease, though, was most extraordinary. Magnificent, really. A phenomenon she'd found she couldn't resist exploring very, very thoroughly.

She gasped aloud - a purely reflex response, of course - as he sucked one of her big, bouncing breasts into his mouth, the quivering in her "cunt" growing more pronounced as he bit down gently on her nipple. "OHHHhhh..." A shuddering moan escaped her as she computed the incoming sexual possibilities and their implications. Is he going to ejaculate inside me again? That would be the fifth time... I wonder if the pattern will hold of his... his ejaculate producing a subsidiary orgasmic response from my vagina... I expect it would because... because it's such a heated stimulus... of considerable depth and in... combination with the other stimuli in my... my... it's going to feel very... profound... "Ohhh-ohhh-OHHHhhh I'm... I'm... ahhh-ahhh-AWWW-AWWW-AWWW I'm going to..."

Oberon gave a triumphal holler as he hammered rapidly into her, finally tensing up and unloading another multiple volley of spunk inside her and, sure enough, driving her clasping, climaxing "cunt" to an even higher pitch of intensity. Kestan's pretty mouth stretched open in a silent O as the shockwaves of pleasure wracked her, every muscle in her body going rigid as his jumping balls pump their hot, delightful cargo deep into her womb, her sloppy "snatch" greedily milking his member for every last drop of sperm as he added to her delirium with hard smacks on her "ass" and fervent devouring sucks and bites and kisses all over her heaving breasts.

Finally, the seemingly endless tidal waves of lust washed over the pair, leaving them shuddering in their wake, Kestan collapsing in his arms and conducting some further experiments in the pleasurable effects of osculation, her tongue dancing with his in a hot, deep kiss as they curled up together in the large throne-like armchair the male had beamed aboard with him.

"Mmmm," she moaned into his mouth. "That was... a most satisfactory exercise."

He laughed. "You are a hopeless romantic, aren't you, Maid Kestan."

She didn't answer. As awareness broadened again beyond the parameters of the experiment, she knew that she was going to have to act on Commander Oona's instructions soon. Looking around the bridge - empty but for Nagata, Mitchell and Vitani and one version of Hollander, all of them arching and jolting and writhing and moaning and crying out under the stimulus of various invisible visions - she tried to guess at the passage of time and realized she had, strictly speaking, lost track of it. Not good.

On the upside, she had acquired some very useful personal data. The discovery that behaving submissively toward this particular male heightened her physical responses when it came to the coitus was unexpected. I will have to explore that further, she thought, languidly reaching down and stroking his wet, spent sex organ. In other settings. As she looked back up at him, preparing to do what must be done, she saw him staring at her with something more than the show of dominant brutality he'd started with. She lifted a skeptical eyebrow as she recognized signs of impending emotionalism.

"If only," he started to say. "We'd met in other circumstances..." But she put a finger to his lips, shushing him and shaking her head.

It never fails, she thought. They always spoil perfectly acceptable sexual inquiries with emotional outbursts. It's quite irrational.

He smiled, that emotional look still there... but then his expression clouded suddenly as if someone or something distant was signalling. "What the -" Abruptly, his eyes focused on some distant vision, his face transitioning swiftly to alarm as he began to try to get up, his tiara starting to glow. "Not possible... hang on, Arwyn!"

Whoops. Waited too long... Kestan improvised quickly, exerting her considerable Shiran strength to slam him forcefully back into the chair, swooping in for another probing kiss as she worked one hand up toward his chest.

He pulled free of her mouth, laughing uneasily. "Stronger than you look, my little Maid," he gasped. "But we're going to have to take a break for a moment, I have to... hey, what are you - OWWW! OWWW! OWWW!" He flinched as her fingers suddenly pressed hard in quick sequence on two separate points on his chest and one at the side of his neck. "What in the hell was that for? Not a turn-on, honey..."

"Oh." Her mouth quirked in a moment of consternation. Never been very good at the Akkat Null Touch, she thought ruefully. Aloud she said: "My apologies, Your Majesty. I was hoping to do this without damaging you."

"Do what?" A horrified realization dawned in his eyes now as her powerful arms and thighs held him in place. "No, wait, no-no-NO-"

The impact of her headbutt sent him into instant unconsciousness. As she looked down at his slack face, at the blood pouring from his certainly broken nose, she said quietly: "I would have welcomed the opportunity for further experiments with you. I find you singularly virile. Perhaps another time."

With that, she climbed off him, turning around to see Hollander and the others stirring groggily, looking around them as if disoriented to see the bridge still intact, down at their bodies as if surprised to find themselves unbound and still clothed. They were even more confused as they looked up to see a naked, sweaty Lieutenant Kestan standing before the unconscious form of a man in an armchair, a golden tiara in one hand, rivers of male spew dripping down her inner thighs and a curious gleam in her eye.

"It's a bit of a long story," she said.

* * *She tensed again, ducking as if from a half-sensed blow, lashing out in search of a half-sensed enemy. Neither blow connected this time. The circling, careful cat-and-mouse game began again.

There was strain in Arwyn's directionless voice now. "I am far from overcome, you simple-minded slattern!" The sound of harsh breathing echoed from everywhere and nowhere. "I will yet bend you all to my will! You think I haven't done it before? You really think I haven't overcome steeper odds?"

"I think," replied Oona: "That you never counted on facing simple love. That's the thing you can't comprehend, 'Your Highness.'" She makes the fake title drip with utter scorn. "The love that friends and comrades hold for each other, for instance. Or the love that Karl Cullen still holds for the woman you tried to drive out of his heart. Tried... and failed."

"YEEEAAAGHHH!!"

The wordless caterwaul of fury came from everywhere and nowhere, but Oona's eyes focused suddenly... and she pounced toward Naomi! For a frozen moment she hung in midair, jerking back and forth, her arms and legs wrapped around an invisible torso... her opponent thrashing in a grip of anaconda-like strength! Four deep, bloody weals charted painfully slow parallel paths down one of her cheeks, and abruptly she pitched over backwards, the air whooshing from her lungs in a loud "Ughhhh!" as she was driven into the deck!

But Oona didn't let go! One of her hands went questing upward, the Thalian holding on through sheer force of will as an angry, bloody bite-mark suddenly appeared on her forearm! "AHHHAAAGHHH!" she cried out, her firm and fabulous bikini-clad body arching in pain... but she didn't give up! Her other arm came up and wrapped around an invisible throat, producing a sudden choking sound that echoed through the compartment... until an invisible elbow hammered into the Thalian's gut and finally forced her to break her grip!

Captain Hollander, though, had been following the battle closely. Her blues eyes flashing, she leapt now into the fray, making a best-guess at Arwyn's position as she swung with a double axe-handled haymaker... and connected! With a grunt of pain, the invisible assailant went stumbling backward, crashing into the Regenerator's portable console and knocking it over!

Arwyn flickered abruptly into view as she fell - her tiara had been knocked off by the blow! She gave the Captain a brief flash of desperate fury before she spun to try to retrieve it... but Hollander was already on her, grabbing a fistful of her long hair and yanking her back toward the front of the compartment!

Yowling with rage, the taller Arwyn planted her feet and managed to twist in Hollander's grip, grabbing a double handful of long, sandy hair in her turn, the two beauties reeling sideways against a nearby bulkhead, their eyes daggering into one another as their sexy bodies twisted and strained with furious determination. Hollander drew a scream of pain from Arwyn as she abruptly hammered a booted foot into the top of her opponent's bare one - in the very same moment that Arwyn shifted her attack from Hollander's long hair to the Captain's big, bouncing breasts!

"AAAGHHH!" The cry of pain wrung itself free of the Captain's throat as Arwyn bore her to the ground with a murderous grip on each of her full, firm tits, the Captain's hands clasping at the criminal's wrists and trying desperately to break off the nasty assault on her sensitive mounds. But Arwyn, her expression set in murderous, animalistic fury, wouldn't be denied, and drew another howl of pain from Hollander as her nails dig bloody furrows into those hot, jiggling tits: "AAAIIIEEE!"

"That's what you get, whore!" Arwyn was howling into her beautiful face as tears of pure pain streaked from her baby blues. Ripping those firm puppies free of Hollander's top now, she took hold of their enormous, puffy nipples, twisting them mercilessly as the Captain writhed in fresh agony. "That's what you get for going against me, bitch! I'll -"

But even as she was taunting her opponent, Hollander's hands were continuing to flail, not randomly but with urgent purpose, searching for some way to break the naked titty-twisting torture. And suddenly one of them took a grip on one of the Princess' antennae... and balled into a fist, ripping the costume prop free of the con artist's forehead!

Arwyn barely had time to register this before the borrowed prop became an improvised weapon, whipping across her face to leave a bloody weal and a trail of fiery pain! "AAAUUUGHHH!" Her grip was finally broken as her hands flew up to the wound. "Not the FACE you BITCH -"

But Hollander was rolling and jack-knifing her body, throwing off her naked assailant! And it was as Arwyn went tumbling to the ground, near where Oona had been lying and apparently still trying to recover herself, that the Thalian abruptly rolled her body back over her head, executing a sudden arm-spring and whipping around to descend with her gorgeous thighs clamped around Arwyn's neck!

"Ughhhckhhh..." Trapped by the classic Thalian meu mai martial arts manoeuvre, Arwyn lay with her windpipe wrapped in Oona's relentless grip, every muscle in her sweaty, naked body tensing with her desperate struggles! Her full, proud and pink-nippled breasts jiggled to and fro, her back arching, her nails leaving more bloody scratch marks as she clawed desperately at Oona's thighs, her flanks, her back, her buttocks... but to no avail! Her legs were kicking, her puffy pink pussy lips occasionally heaving into full view under the thatch between her straining thighs as she fought... but her fiery black eyes were dulling, growing glassy, her lovely face going bright crimson as she struggled to breathe... and Oona, still in scarcely better shape but her eyes glittering with fanatical purpose, was hanging on, bearing down, hanging on, bearing down...

... until finally Arwyn's kicks grew feeble, her wondrous nude body started to slump, her gaze lost its focus. She gave a last gasp and lapsed into unconsciousness.

Drawing in a great gasp of relief, Oona finally released her hold, subsiding back and lying in a sweaty heap of nubile flesh alongside the defeated criminal.

A cascade of loud claps resounded through the compartment!

"Incredible work, both of you," said Cullen admiringly as he applauded. "Truly impressive!" The exclamation drew curious glances from Hollander and Bell, first at his face, and then at his crotch, where the full evidence of admiration was obvious. Looking at them and then down at himself, he abruptly crossed his legs. "Well... it was impressive," he said a little defensively.

"Thank you... Doctor Cullen." A panting Oona gathered herself, nursing her bitten arm as she climbed slowly back to her feet, making her way over to where Hollander was getting up and gingerly tucking her punished breasts back into her bikini top. "It's always a pleasure to be appreciated."

"I couldn't agree more, Commander," said Hollander, still flushed from the excitement of battle and looking exhilarated, for all the pain in her mammaries. "And it's even more of a pleasure to take down scum like that woman."

* * *

space ill-met moonlite

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