Starr vs the Emperor of Space Pt. 09

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CHAPTER NINE

The Dominion of the Spider Queen

SPACE MADNESS! A condition common to all cosmographic commerce and interstellar travel -- brought about by confinement within tight spaces and kept at bay only through the use of powerful and dangerous space medicine. This deadly mental foe now stalks through MARK STYLE'S mind as he and his unlikely band of heroes continue their slow transit from PLUTO to SATURN.

But while Mark finds comfort in the deadly and dangerous embrace of THE DEVIL WEED, MARIJUANA, he knows not that of his three estranged comrades, he is most fortunate...for CLAUDETTE T.S GRANT has been HYPNO-CAPTURED by none other than the VAMPIRE QUEENS OF MARS, for what end none can guess.

Yet, while both Claudette and Mark travel through the depths of space, it is JASMINE STARR that remains in the most danger as she and the disguised PRINCESS SNOW of the Faemen set out on a quest in search of answers to the thousand years war between the Faeman and Hawkmen...a quest that takes them even now into none other than the infamous MAZE OF MADNESS!

Jasmine Starr strapped her magneto-rapier to the curve of her red thong and glanced from where she stood in the royal armory to "Prince Fireth" -- with her binder on and her male guise once more assumed, it was nearly impossible to see that the Princess Snow was, in fact, the sister of the long dead Prince Fireth rather than the Prince himself. She cut a dashing and masculine figure, her hair cut short, her bearing screaming to the world of her confidence and proud maleness -- accentuated by a kind of internal codpiece that she slid on beneath her leggings. That was more than enough to make every female servant in the palace swoon at the sight of her, but Jasmine did wonder at it: Did Snow enjoy her pretense as being a male, or did she chafe at it? Did she yern to once more wear dresses -- or, foregoing that, to simply be a tomboy?

For Jasmine knew well that distinction between being a woman who was interested in mannish things and being a male where it counted. During her time with the heroic and cunning Office of Strategic Services, she had been a part of many underground resistance movements battling against the hellish hosts of Hitler and his jackbooted Gestapo secret policemen and those movements had been made up of the many people seen as nothing but cockroaches beneath Nazi tyranny, including many men and women who had done no crime at all save love women or men rather than men and women, or to dress in clothing the Third Reich had deemed inappropriate for one of their so called "gender."

Jasmine shook her head, wondering at what small minded fools like the absurd Austrian -- and the abominable American Bund that had shared his vicious ideas -- would think, to learn of all the many space genders that were exhibited throughout the solar system...but for now, she let such pondering aside as she turned full on to face Snow.

"Will we need Diamond Suits?"

"Not if we're lucky," Snow said, her voice pitched deliberately lower. "And if we're unlucky enough to need them, then the Maze will have already killed us."

"What is this Maze?" Jasmine asked. "How did it come to be?"

Snow sighed, then growled. "It came about because of the damned Hawkmen and the failure of the Terraforming Project. The goal was simple, we would bleed away the atmosphere above, reducing the pressures of Venus until we could stand upon the surface without being crushed or boiled. But to do so, we would need many Terraforming Machines, and those machines would need constant supplies of materials. Delivering those materials above ground was impossible...so, we constructed vast underground networks of tunnels and subway systems."

"Ah, like the London Metro system, writ large across the planet," Jasmine said. "Or the railroads of America."

"Yes, precisely," Snow said. "Though we use significantly more advanced space trains...or...we did, a thousand years ago. But with the Project abandoned for war, the tunnels were left to molder. A thousand years of geological activity has collapsed many tunnels, and many of our magneto-memory tape books have been lost, or been corrupted. We know only a fraction of the tunnels. Worse...are the Morlocks."

"The Morlocks?" Jasmine's eyebrow shot straight up. "As in from H.G Well's seminal classic, the Time Machine, recently released as an award winning radio play by the renowned and respected Columbia Broadcast Services?"

"The very same," Snow said, chuckling much as a Prince should, rubbing her chin as she did so -- the two of them emerged from the armory and past a trio of waiting Faewomen servants, one of which tottered visibly as she saw the formidable figure that Snow cut with her magneto-rapier at her hip, and had to be caught by her comrades before she slumped to the tunnel floor. "We took the name from the drama -- but they are a byproduct of a native fungus that we could have eradicated, had the Hawkmen not betrayed us and ended the project. They grow within unfortunate miners and drive them to madness, and they rush into the tunnels if not stopped. This population has grown and bred...Faemen and Faewomen, born with the fungus within their minds! If they come upon non-infected Faemen, they attack them, try to subdue them, to infect them as well."

"How hideous," Jasmine whispered.

The two strode through the castle and came out into the vast city of the Faemen. There, they were met by several guards and the Spider Queen herself, who looked grave despite the fact she had given permission for this. She reached out, cupping her "son" upon her cheek, then said: "Please, do take care of my dearest Fireth." She looked at Jasmine, then smiled, ever so slightly. "And yourself, now that I think about it."

"My lady, I will do just that," Jasmine said, taking her hand and decorously kissing her knuckles -- so that all around her would think she nothing but a gallant Earth woman, offering the respects due to Queen Evillia Spiderna of the Faemen...but those that were aware of the events that had transpired in the previous space night would have no choice but to remember every vigorous scream of orgasmic bliss that Jasmine had wrung from the Spider Queen using tongue, fingers, and space strap-on. Both Evie (as Jasmine still enjoyed thinking of her as) and Snow were thinking about it, as Snow scowled at Jasmine and Evie giggled and murmured, under her breath.

"Oh you!"

"Now, where is the entrance to the Maze of Madness?" Jasmine asked.

"This is Lancer," Evie said, gesturing to one of the guards -- a strapping, dreadlocked Faeman with a wide face, long ears, and a huge smile. He inclined his head. "He is one of the finest Rocket Rangers we have. His rocket-cycles will take you to the entrance."

"A pleasure, Miss Starr," he said, his voice a warm, high tenor despite his burly size. He was dressed in a chromed breastplate designed to reflect away death rays, while his arms and legs were wrapped in rubberized, protective material for the surface of Venus. His weapons were a rocket-bolt pistol, slung from his hip, and what appeared to be the primary weapon of the Rocket Rangers, slung over his shoulder and hanging from a strap -- a weapon that caused Jasmine to ooh softly.

"Please, Ranger Lancer, my mother was Miss Starr. You can call me Jasmine," Jasmine said, chuckling. "Now...what is this?" She gestured.

"This? Oh, it's just my Hell Lance," Lancer said, slapping the strap that held the long thin metal pole to his back. The weapon looked a great deal like a normal jousting tool from Earth's bygone days of tournaments and kings and queens -- but this lethal looking lance was tipped not with a blunted tip nor even a sharpened blade, but rather a bulbous cylinder that came to a tapered narrow point, painted a bright red that glinted in the Faeman City's dull illumination! "Back before the War was mostly in space, we Rocket Rangers would face off against the Hawkmen and their armored zeppelins. This was the best way to send them into the clouds!"

"How does it work?" Jasmine asked, while Snow coughed and tugged on her arm, clearly trying to get them moving again. Jasmine allowed herself to be tugged, but kept her eyes on the strapping Lancer, who chuckled warmly.

"Simple! The lance's tip is a one time use Void Burst Inferno Warhead -- by having an air filled cavity within the warhead, it is able to focus the heat into an armor piercing blast that can cut through even thick, layered space steel," he said. "Our forefathers would ride our rocket-cycles in on their blind side and strike them in the weak points, then race away as they crashed." He sighed. "But in these days, all the fighting is in space and orbit, so we Rocket Rangers merely use our Hell Lances for ceremonial duties." He shook his head. "A shame."

Jasmine chucked. "Well, Lancer, I'm sure we'll find some way for you to put your lance to work."

"Oh will you now," Lancer purred.

Snow glared at both of them.

They came to the stables, where a rocket-cycle was already set out and ready, the engine rumbling softly as the other Rangers attached a passenger seat for Snow. "The Prince and you can-" Lancer started, but Jasmine swung herself onto the back of the cycle, spreading her legs as she leaned back and smiled at him.

"I believe among the Earth ground-cycle gangs of my world, this is what they refer to as...riding bitch?" Jasmine fluttered her eyebrows at Lancer, who gave her an even larger smile.

"They use quite a similar term here," Lancer said, mounting up ahead of her, sliding and settling in so that she could lean against his broad back, her cheek resting against his shoulder blade as she felt his warmth. "But here, it is called riding space bitch."

"Ah," Jasmine murmured, looking past his shoulder at Snow, who was looking completely exasperated. "Come on, Prince -- lets mount up. We'll need to ride hard to make sure we can penetrate the Maze of Madness in time. Though, I'm sure we can dally a little...Lance here does seem to know when to pull out-"

"Just stop!" Snow exploded.

She swung into the passenger car and the rocket-cycle roared to life, then streaked off as the back flames bust out. The ground effect features kicked on, then sent them shooting up and above the city, soaring higher than Jasmine expected. She clung to Lancer, not merely for the pleasure of his masculine body but also to keep herself firmly rooted. The Rocket Ranger, though, flew as if he had not a care in the world, and within a few short minutes, they had landed at the outskirts of the underground city, the rocket-cycle clattering and hissing to a stop, the back engine whirring to a stop as Jasmine saw that they had landed before a vast, open tunnel, protected by several low turreted towers and a curved wall. The wall had what appeared to be heavy duty rocket bolt machine guns mounted at various points and were manned by stern, ready Rocket Rangers.

"Are you sure you can't come with us?" Jasmine asked, sliding off the back of the rocket-cycle. "We could always use another strong arm."

"No," Snow snapped. "The less people in the Maze the better -- a smaller party is less likely to draw the notice of Morlocks. Two may be ignored where three or four would be set on and captured to expand the hive. Besides...Rocket Rangers don't like to fight on foot."

"We fight wherever we need fight," Lancer said, sounding affronted. "I can use my sword and pistol just as well, even if I'd hate to leave behind my lance-"

"Yes, but I am the Prince Fireth and I say you will remain!" Snow snapped, stepping away from the cycle, towards the gate of the wall leading to the tunnel. Jasmine sighed, then called after her.

"I shall join you once I have ensured my pack is reasonably well stored," she said, then slung free. Snow huffed, and then kept walking. Lancer shook his head slowly, his voice softened so that only Jasmine could hear her.

"I swear that the Prince hides something from his subjec-" he froze as Jasmine, her fingers finding the zipper of his leggings, worked said zipper down as she slid from the back of the rocket to the side pod, so that she might be at the right...elevation for her work. "Miss Star!"

"Shh," Jasmine murmured. "I need something to fortify me before entering that great dark..." She took hold of his cock as it sprang free -- immense and thick around enough that her thumb could not touch her palm as she gripped his base. Her nose flared, breathing in the rich, dark scent of him as his ebony black cock seemed to shine before her eyes. Lancer bit his lip, while a few Rocket Rangers glanced over -- then glanced again, double taking in surprise. Jasmine closed her mouth around the thick glans of his cock, her tongue swirling along his foreskin, and moaning in pleasure as she tasted his warm, salty pre-cum...glowing along her tongue, it tingled as she licked him inside of her mouth, her eyes looking up to watch the delightful expression on his African features as the Faeman Rocket Ranger leaned back upon the saddle of his rocket-cycle.

Jasmine popped her lips free, pumping her hand up and down his length. "Mmm, Faemen cock tastes quite delicious, you know?" She grinned. "I've never enjoyed being on my knees more than in space." Her mouth closed around the tip of his cock, and then she pushed forward, enjoying the difficulty of getting her lips to meet her knuckles as her hand rotated around the midsection of the Rocket Ranger's cock. One of Lancer's hands gripped her dark hair as he let a groan out between his teeth.

"J-Jasmine!" he gasped. "I...normally...I have to save a maiden's life for this." Jasmine bobbed her head as he spoke, wringing groans and moans out between every word. "And it's...ah...fuck, it's never this, nnhhh, good!"

Jasmine pulled back with a soft pop and grinned up at him, her hand moving faster and faster now, stroking his member as she looked up into his eyes. "Well, I am no maiden," she purred, then whispered. "Do you want to cum on my face or in my mouth, dear Lancer?"

Lancer gasped, then shuddered, his hands tightening on the seat of his rocket-cycle -- the leather creaking ominously as his impressive strength got to work. He looked as if he was trying every trick in his mental and physical handbook to prevent himself from climaxing then and there...and it was still not enough to keep his glowing arousal from dripping along her knuckles, catching under her palm -- so that every pumping motion of her hand spread glittering star motes along his big black cock. Her nose flared, breathing in his excited musk...and she watched his face as he whispered: "By...the Spider Goddess's eight arms! You...ah! Fuck, you may as well ask me to choose between the moon or the sun!"

"Venus has no moon," Jasmine purred.

"Then I must cum in your throat!" Lancer groaned and stood at the same time. Jasmine let out a happy grunt as he took hold of her head and thrust his entire girth into her mouth. She relaxed her throat, her tongue pressed against the base of his member, her eyes filled with eager lustfulness as she peered up his muscular body to his face and reveled in the intense, masculine grimace of bliss that filled his features as his hips met her face, his thatch of bright silver, curly pubic hair tickling her nose as his heavy, black balls bounced against her chin. His cock filled her throat to the limit and his balls twitched against her, and...Jasmine could feel the throb of his heart beat and the gentle pulse of his cum as he painted the inside of her belly with it. His hips twitched and he bucked a few more times, actively fucking her face...the pleasure was dizzying and Jasmine nearly came from that alone...

Her nose whuffed and she could not breathe -- and the burn of that only heightened her bliss. Her eyes went out of focus as Lancer groaned, then slowly slowly drew his slippery, cumslickened cock from her lips. Jasmine coughed, then gasped, and then panted heavily, her head swimming as Lancer sagged back against the side of his rocket-cycle.

"By the Spider Goddess..." Lancer gasped heavily. "If every woman could service a lance like that, then we'd never need an armorer again!" He wiped at his brow, looking completely done in as Jasmine smacked her lips, licked them, then stood with a smile.

"Was I good?" she crooned. Lancer's expression shifted and he chuckled, then shook his head.

"And yet...why is it that I feel as if I were the one that gave you what you wanted?" He murmured. "Usually, I expect most men do not feel used when they are given a blowjob like that." He laughed as Jasmine tapped the tip of his broad nose.

"Thank you very much," she purred, then turned and hopped from the rocket-cylce's passenger car. Lancer watched her go to where the "Prince Fireth" was waiting, and shook his head slowly. Another Rocket Ranger came to his side, his arms crossed over his own chromed breastplate.

"Are all Earth Women like that?" he asked.

"If they are," Lancer said. "Then I can understand why the Emperor is so eager to conquer that world -- atom bombs or no. But no, my good and true comrade Bow. I believe, in my heart of hearts, that Jasmine Starr is alone among the solar system..." He rubbed his jaw.

Bow nodded.

"Want to head to the bunk and spitroast my girlfriend?" he asked.

"Oh absolutely," Lancer said, springing to his feet. He wobbled. "After I drink some water."

***

Once they were around the third bend within the first tunnel of the Maze of Madness, Snow lifted her hand and called a halt.

"Why are we-" Jasmine started, but then blinked as Snow lifted her shirt up, tossing it aside, revealing the thin white binders wrapped about her chest.

"I am not wearing these for one second longer!" Snow exclaimed. She tugged the binders free and sighed as her modest breasts bounced free in the slightly chilly, damp air of the maze tunnel. They were lit only by the small light source that Snow had brought with her - floating orb of white metal that shone with a pale illumination, showing the smooth black stone walls of the maze tunnel and the unused, rusted tracks of the space train that had once run through it. Snow shivered, then reached into her pants. She fished forth the packing material she had used to make herself seem as if she had a male bulge, then threw it to the ground, then leaned against the wall, her eyes closed. "Goddess that feels good."

"So, I take it the disguise is wearing on you?" Jasmine asked, admiring the way that Snow's arms shelved her breasts as she crossed them under her tits.

"It...it's not so bad," Snow said, lying obviously.

"You miss being a woman," Jasmine said, nodding. "I understand it. I imagine, were your brother alive and you were dead -- and he were forced to pretend to be you, he would be just as miserable."

"I..." Snow shook her head. "I shouldn't be such a complainer..."

"It's no sin to want to be seen as what you are," Jasmine said, chuckling softly. "If you wished to be male, then male you could be. If you wish to be female, then female you should be allowed to be as well. The only crime is that you are forced to conceal your true self." She stepped close, placing her hand on Snow's shoulder. "Don't worry, Snow. Around me, you can always be honest." She smiled.

Snow flushed, looked aside, then slapped away Jasmine's hand. "Y-Yes, well. I still don't like you."

"Oh, just because of me and your mother's...relationship?" Jasmine purred, while Snow tugged her top back on -- with the binders gone and the packer gone, she still looked rather boyish, but a second glance would easily reveal that she was more accurately described as tomboyish. She shook her head and started to walk forward -- heading confidently through the tunnel.