Salvage

It was almost funny, wasn't it? Or it might have been if it wasn't so completely pathetic and absurd. The high and mighty hoity-toity Captain Kruger of Avonlea ... Look at her now. Hell, if this filthy demeaning nonsense was happening to some other spaceship captain, Dyon imagined she would have found it very tough to feel much sympathy for her. Any woman stupid enough to let such obvious irredeemable drughead shitbags like Shavi and Rojjo on her crew, she pretty much deserved the disgrace she was getting, didn't she? Served her right. She should have been much smarter and much more careful, if she was half the captain she was cracked up to be.

She shouldn't have called for them, when the Outrage captured her. She should have handled this matter on her own. Kept her stupid mouth shut and just let the thing do its business while the men farted around in the ass of the ship, completely oblivious to what was happening. The machine wasn't going to kill her. Think how much more tolerable this experience would be without an audience. She could have coped all right, in solitude. Well, better than otherwise, at the very least. Might have been able to take some secret enjoyment in it. Wouldn't have bothered fighting the robot's stimulation. Just closed her eyes and let it roll over her and through her ... 'Cause what the hell, at this point, why not?

Problem was, there was still going to be enjoyment, and on an extreme level, whether she fought the feelings or otherwise ... only it wasn't going to be secret. Not at all. The men were gonna get to see it. Every single moment of it. That was the real killer, the ultimate humiliation. She would never live this down. The evil treacherous bastards were gonna get to watch her come, again and again and again. And it wasn't going to be subtle, when she was made to. The Outrage was too well built for this. The men weren't gonna miss it, when it happened. There wasn't gonna be any doubt or ambiguity.

Part of her brain shut down. The only protective measure left at her disposal. So that's what it did—it did it to itself. She lost her sense of self, and the ability to think coherently. Couldn't have remembered her name, anymore, or how she'd got into that situation. All that remained of her was raw naked unfiltered feeling—the howling fiery hurricane of sensation and emotion, blended and blurred. Rage entwined with shame entwined with bliss entwined with agony entwined with rage and so on and so on, endlessly looping. It was hell, and it was also heaven.

"Ahhaahhuuhh! Uhhoohhuuhh! Ahhaahhuuhh Gawwd! Gawwd! Uhhnnnuuhh!"

She never lost consciousness completely, and afterwards she would find herself capable of remembering the entire experience with crystalline clarity. But only as a series of vivid, startling, obscene images. Like all of it happened to someone else, not to her. Like it was something she just witnessed, not actually lived through. She would remember it as if she'd been standing outside her body the whole time, next to Shavi and Rojjo. The physical and emotional sensations, she would not retain. Or if she did, she would not acknowledge them. She knew she must never allow herself. She'd put a great black door within the depths of her being, and everything behind it must remain sealed away and buried, forevermore.

After the men both eventually came—Shavi took much longer to get done than Rojjo—and they'd tucked their cocks away again, then they finally raised their guns and blasted the Outrage through its head. Took several shots, and they damn near took her own head off while they were at it. Then at last, with a groan, the robot shut down.

It froze. Didn't fall over, nor did it drop her. The men had to pry its hands open with tools to get her free from it. Took another twenty minutes.

She didn't say a single word, not while they worked, nor after she was loose and she was putting her clothes back on, the few pieces that were salvageable. The men said nothing either. The rest of her crew on the Testament were also wise enough to keep their mouths shut and act like they didn't know anything about what had happened. Of course they would have heard it all through the comms. Every moment of it. She'd certainly made plenty of noise for them all to listen to.

Hard to say how long the robot fucked her. When they got back to her ship, she found out they'd been over there a little over ninety minutes. She wasn't sure how long it was between first boarding the yacht and then getting grabbed by Outrage. Somewhere probably between two minutes and five. Maybe a bit longer.

What she did know, though she would never speak of this to anyone, was that the robot had brought her to explosive orgasm five times before she lost track. And there had been another two or three times after that before Shavi and Rojjo got themselves off and finally put a stop to the ordeal.

3.

She took an hour in her quarters to settle herself down. A long hot soothing shower, a couple of stiff drinks. Then she got into a fresh uniform—she didn't roll up the sleeves like she would normally do, nor did she leave the collar unfastened. She buttoned it tight to her throat. She wanted to look as formal as possible. She carefully braided her hair, and even pulled on a pair of dress gloves.

She felt hollowed out inside, from the fucking. From the orgasms. An aching, echoing column of emptiness, from her crotch all the way up through the middle of her body, to the top of her head. Like an apple with the core sliced out. Yes, like her brains had literally been fucked out of her skull, and her guts along with them.

Her pussy didn't feel like it was closing properly, and her butthole felt the same. Both, unsurprisingly, were very sore, throbbing and itching intermittently. Nothing was leaking out of her any longer, but it felt like any moment, more fluids might start escaping. Perhaps an oozing trickle, perhaps a great gush. So she kept clenched inside, as tight as she could manage, trying to hold the stuff in, whether it was really hovering in there or only existed in her mind.

Then she strode resolutely to her office, and summoned the pair before her. She did not take her chair behind the desk. When they walked in, she stood waiting with her hands on her hips.

"I could have the both of you prosecuted, for what you did."

Shavi nodded but then shrugged. God, she wanted to kick his teeth in. He said: "You don't want to do that, Captain. Do you? The inquiry would be embarrassing for you."

She didn't answer that. Not directly. "There will be no inquiry. We'll keep the matter quiet. Simpler for all of us. I am of course terminating both your contracts, as of now. That means the moment we reach dock, you will leave my ship. And I do mean immediately. Clear? I've nothing further to say—nothing that would do any good for scum like you. We will not speak again. You are dismissed."

"No, Captain. You mustn't do that."

"Excuse me?"

"Listen. You're being much too hasty about this."

"Hasty? How dare you?"

"Well, to put it simply, I dare because I can. And the reason I can, you see, is 'cause of this ..."

He pushed a button on the chunky interfacer he wore around his wrist. Her wall screen activated. A crackling burst of static, and then it cleared and she was looking at herself, writhing naked in the clutches of the Outrage. Larger than life, her own face contorting with agony, crimson and shiny with sweat. The sound was turned low, but still faintly audible. She could hear herself whimpering and then wailing ... "Please! Oh God! Ohhuuhhuuhhoohh! God help me! No more! Please no more! Ahhaahh! Ahhuuhhaahh!" Her voice was like a little girl's. "Don't look at me! Don't watch! Please stop watching! Please just stop staring at me! I'm begging you! I'm begging! I can't stand it! I can't stand it! I'm gonna die! I wanna die! Please!" She'd never known her eyes could open that wide. In the magnified image, each of her eyes was as big around as her whole face in real life. Even regular size, it would have shocked her. "I'm coming! I'm coming again! Oh God I can't stop coming! Ahhhaahhuuhhaaah!" She watched herself being fucked so hard and so fast, you'd think she was about to split in half. You'd think her tits were about to rip themselves off her chest, swinging like jackhammers. Seeing that made them start aching again. Her screams were distorted on the recording—too loud and too high.

She felt like she'd been punched in the belly. "You—you made a recording! God!"

"Yep. With my hand-scanner in my gauntlet. One of them—the other hand was busy. Heh heh. I'm surprised you didn't notice before. Well, then again, I guess it's perfectly understandable. You had so much else to deal with, didn't you?"

"You son of a bitch."

"Just take a moment, all right? Don't fly off the handle. Think. Consider what would happen to your reputation if this started to circulate, on the focean."

"You—you can't do that. You can't do that to me."

"Then you can't kill our contracts, Captain. Fair's fair. Look, I know you don't like either of us. You got a real nice ship and we like working here with you, but I also admit we're not quite up to your usual standards and we won't stick around forever. All you gotta do is let us complete our tour, like originally agreed, and then you're gonna have to give us nice performance reviews when it's done. Then we'll move on. Okay? Don't look at me like that, all down in the mouth. It won't be so terrible. Just another couple months and we'll be out of your hair. You'll have to give us bonuses, though. Nothing extreme. We don't wanna bankrupt you. How about another fifteen percent, for each of us? I think that's fair. And it won't raise anybody's eyebrows."

"I won't do it. Go to hell."

"You sure? Hey, it's up to you. Brave choice. I guess it's not gonna kill you, if we publish the recording. In fact it might bring you a lot more business. They say there's no such thing as bad publicity. You're already pretty famous. This is gonna get the whole galaxy talking about you again, and probably beyond. Myself, I don't know if I could handle that much heat, you know. Not on that level, not like this. It would get under my skin. I'd probably die of the shame. Maybe for you it's different. After all, you do look damn good up there. No denying that. Hell of a show. Turns me on like crazy. Maybe it makes you proud, seeing how hot you look. Is that it? It doesn't make you embarrassed? Or maybe you're just too plain tough, regardless. I admire that, Captain. Okay. We'll play it your way, if you want. We'll pack our things. Soon as we get back to the station, just like you said, we'll get gone. Come on, bro."

She almost let them walk out the door. Almost. "Wait. Wait, dammit. Just ... wait."

"You change your mind?"

"Fifteen percent? Each?" Considering the alternative, he was right, it wasn't so terrible.

"That's what I said. And favorable evaluations for our employment files, remember, so we won't have no trouble getting good new jobs."

"Just so long as I don't have to renew your contracts myself. Whatever it takes."

"Good. We got a deal."

"Shut off that fucking recording now. I don't want to see that shit ever again."

"Sure thing, Cap." The wall screen blanked out.

"Get out of my office now."

"As you command, Madame Captain."

"I told you a hundred times not to call me that. Just Captain."

"Madame Captain sounds much better, though. Oh, wait a sec, there's one more tiny thing, before we go. You have to take your uniform off. For the rest of the tour, we don't want you to wear one. We don't want you to wear anything at all. Okay?"

"W-what? Are you ... joking? Did I hear you right?"

"Don't get upset, it's not such a big deal. The rest of the crew won't object. We asked around already. Doesn't matter if they did—you're the captain, after all. You can do whatever the hell you want on your own ship, right? So get naked."

"You're unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable."

"It won't change anything. Just make things more fun. You'll still be the leader, you'll still give all the orders, and the rest of us will carry them out exactly like before. Only for the rest of the tour, you'll stay in the nude. The whole time. It'll be a much happier voyage, all around. We'll make sure to boost the internal temperature throughout the ship so you won't get too chilly."

"Never. You've lost your mind. You pushed too far." She opened a drawer in her desk, pulled out a blaster and pointed it at him. "You could have got away with this, if you just knew when to quit. No more. Both of you are going out the airlock. Right the fuck now."

"Deal's off then? Okay." His finger was poised over his bracelet again. "The upload is all set to go, right now. I made sure before we came in here, I set it up real careful. Shoot me, I bet I still press the button as I drop. Then the whole galaxy gets to see you naked, instead of just your crew. And not just that, of course. It's not just you by yourself without your clothes on, is it? They're gonna get to watch that fuck-machine railing your brains out. They're gonna get to see how much you loved it while it happened. You know you did. You can't deny it. I can transmit the recording to the focean right now, in less than a second. Just gotta push this button and off it flies. Is that what you want? Last chance, Madame Captain. Fire that gun or put it back in your desk. Decide."

Her hand was shaking. She should shoot. She should just shoot them both.

She burst into tears and lowered the gun. "Shit. Shit. Shit."

"Then you'll cooperate."

"Yes. I suppose I've no real choice ... Dammit."

"Do it then. Show us, right now. Put away that gun. And then take off that uniform. Come around the desk first so we can see you properly. Now strip."

She shut her eyes and did what they wanted. There was a great roaring in her ears. Yet it didn't obscure the sounds of her uniform's zippers and snaps, all of which seemed to echo in the little room, or the rustling and thumps of the heavy stiff cloth as she peeled off its layers and let them fall to the floor behind her. She thought she might faint. She wished she would. It never happened, though. Her pussy and her ass burned inside, and both passages felt swollen and leaky. They'd felt like that this entire time, under her clothing, but it worsened as she exposed them again to the air, and to the men. She whimpered. She couldn't help it.

"All the rest now. Don't forget those silly gloves. Socks too."

"Seriously?"

"Yep."

"Let me keep my stupid socks, at least. What's it matter?"

"Clearly it does. You ain't really naked if you still got socks on. Give 'em up, Cap."

"Fine. I don't care. Fine. Shit. Oh God. Shit."

She stood to attention, chin high and arms stiff at her sides, trying to maintain some illusion of dignity. The deck plating was extremely cold, gritty under one foot and sticky under the other. Spilled coffee, probably. When was the last time she had the floor cleaned in here? Too long.

"You are so lovely, Madame Captain. Much too sexy to hide it under a prissy uniform all the time. Most beautiful smoking hot captain in the galaxy."

She felt herself blush. They both laughed at her, slapping each other's backs. It was too much. Her poise deserted her. She wasn't a captain anymore, or an aristocrat. They'd taken more than her uniform, they'd stripped her of status too. She'd let these villains reduce her to a lowly helpless whore. Her head drooped and her shoulders slumped. She covered her parts with her hands and trembled. Her pussy continued to burn beneath her hands, and to seep.

Shavi and Rojjo both unzipped their pants and brought their cocks out, waggling them at her, stiff and eager.

"Are you gonna rape me?" she asked. Ridiculous question.

"That depends on how good a job you do sucking my cock off right now. And also my bro's. How about you get up on your desk now. On your hands and knees, Madame Captain. No, better yet, lay flat, with your legs curled behind you. Yeah, that way you've got your mouth on a better level for us. And I like seeing your pretty feet kicking back in the air like that. Curling those cute perfect toes tight, just like when the Outrage was pounding you."

"I can't believe this is happening to me." Yet even as she spoke these words, as she climbed on her desk and flattened herself across the top, squishing her breasts and her hardened nipples beneath her, in a funny way, deep in her heart and in her guts, it was all too easy to accept this turn of events. As if she'd been secretly expecting this to happen, for ages. Not this specifically, but something like this. Some dark dreadful inescapable disaster. Some certain unspeakable doom, just for her. Most of her life, especially as a child and then as a teenager, Dyon Kruger had felt a great sense of guilt about her birthright—the wealth and privilege of her so-called noble family, and the sheer unrepentant entitlement and snobbery they represented. For she knew the harsh deeds that had brought them to their position. It is no small or easy thing to take a world and reshape it in the idealized image of another, which in truth was long spoiled and lost to humanity. In the depths of her soul, Dyon always suspected a price would eventually have to be paid, in reckoning for her forbearers' legacy. It was a large part of why she left that world altogether, striking out alone and penniless to create a whole new life for herself in another solar system. But the reckoning would still have to be paid. Perhaps now was the time. Perhaps Shavi was only its unknowing instrument. Or did she just tell herself these things to excuse herself for surrendering? Providing herself a partly-comforting justification in the form of implacable destiny, beyond her power to control. "I can't believe I'm letting this happen. I just caAAHHuuhhnnnnn! Nuuhhnn. Nuuhhuuhhnn."

Despite what Shavi just said, Rojjo had already gone around the desk, grabbed hold of her upturned ankles, and jammed himself inside of her. He stuck himself in her ass, not her pussy. There was pleasure in the penetration, somehow, unwelcome as it was. There was also pain, and more than a little—but it was the kind that enhanced the pleasure instead of spoiling it. And the instant she was made to cry out, Shavi inserted his cock into her mouth. Far as he could push it. She didn't bite him, much as she wanted to. He held her head by her braid.

"You're the captain. It was your call to make, babe, and you made it. Ah yes. Yes you did. Yes. Ahhahh. Ahh. Suck it, Cap. Suck my cock harder."

"Uhn. Uhhhmm. Uhn. Uhn. Uhhuuhh! Uhhuuhhnn."

"Yes. Yes. Oh so good. Yes."

4.

She's on the bridge in her captain's chair. Naked. Trying to tell herself it isn't bothering her anymore. She should be used to it by now. It's been four whole days.

It's easier when they give her drugs. They've been letting her take some of the stuff they use themselves. A purple powder called Flow. Her last hit's wearing off, it's been several hours. She's starting to think almost clearly again. That's not good. If she took some more Flow, she really could sit here perfectly calm and relaxed, like nothing at all was the matter. No humiliation or anger or fear, only a peaceful humming in her head and all through her body. Actually while she was high on Flow, she almost enjoyed her nakedness. You could almost enjoy anything, while you're on Flow. Just breathing became a sensual and fascinating experience.

She remembered back when she used to wish she could get away with wearing shorts and a tanktop and sneakers on the bridge, knowing as the captain she couldn't. It would undermine her position. Stiff scratchy uniforms were a necessary evil. You had to project the appearance of cool taciturn authority, all the time.