Starship of Lust Ch. 03

"Mmm... that feels great, ma'am. Your breasts are extremely impressive."

I sat back in my chair, enjoying the sight below me. Crouched at my feet, naked from the waist up, was Admiral Catherine Locke. Her large tits were wrapped around my cock, gently massaging my manhood. She gave no verbal response to my compliment, but her scornful glare spoke for itself.

This was my fifth night of "sexual processing" with our ship's commanding officer. Her attitude had changed little since the first; she held nothing but contempt for me, and yet dutifully "processed" me all the same.

Admittedly, her technique was as tepid and robotic as ever, but the mere thought of using the Catherine Locke's boobs as my personal cocksleeve was enough to bring me close to the brink. Imagining the stern, imposing admiral she was during the day, literally on her knees before me, kneading her tits up and down my shaft, her wedding ring occasionally glinting in the light... I was in heaven.

Sadly, I don't think she'll tolerate actual penetrative sex during "sexual processing" - not even a blowjob. At one point, she almost walked out when I even hinted at such a thing. Despite the situation, she still has her boundaries as a married woman.

Of course, that's what my neural implant "updates" are for. It's too soon to make major changes to her psyche - her mind needs to acclimate to "sexual processing" being a "normal" part of her life first - but I was able to make a couple tweaks over these past five days.

"Admiral, I'm - I'm almost there. Can you...?"

Locke sighed, knowing exactly what I was asking for. She looked up at me and, in the flattest monotone imaginable, said, "Cum for me, Cooper. Cum all over my big, fat titties."

And I did. My jizz violently erupted out of her cleavage, splattering her chest, face and even the edge of her glasses with my seed. As soon as I was done, not wanting to be near me a second longer than necessary, Locke stepped away and started cleaning herself off with a towel.

Via my "updates", I'd nudged her into being more receptive to my requests during "sexual processing"; small things that were technically not required of her role as a "processor", but would enhance my experience and possibly induce a quicker orgasm. In fact, she'd already operated under similar logic of her own accord, by allowing me to play with her tits during her first handjob.

So really, all my "updates" had done was take an existing mindset and strengthen it. To start, I'd encouraged Locke to utilize a variety of sex acts during my "processing". Specifically, we experimented with a footjob on the third night, and tonight was her first tittyfuck. Then, taking it a step further, I asked her to use some dirty talk when I was near climax, to push me over the edge.

The footjob and even tittyfuck might have been things Locke would be willing to do on her own, just to accelerate my "sexual processing". But under normal circumstances (well, if we pretend "sexual processing" in itself is "normal"), Locke is far too proud to ever tell me to "cum all over her big, fat titties". However, the most powerful "updates" are rooted in truth, which makes this one especially potent... because it actually works. If she'd stayed silent during her tittyfuck, it really would have taken at least another minute or so before I came - and Locke knows it too.

Subconsciously persuaded by the inarguable logic of these "updates", Locke's priorities are gradually being rearranged. With each passing day, the speed of my orgasm during "sexual processing" will be more and more important to her, even over her own sense of pride or ethics. I can't push my luck too far just yet; she's a woman of extreme mental fortitude, evidenced by her "dirty talk" sounding like she was reading out of a textbook. Nonetheless, before long, she'll begrudgingly obey anything I ask of her during "sexual processing" - as long as it seems reasonably likely to make me cum faster.

Of course, the longer-term goal would be shifting her psychological state so that she obeys me even outside the context of "sexual processing", but one step at a time. Making a proper sex slave out of Admiral Locke is still a ways off.

While I'd been lost in thought, Locke had finished wiping my semen off her tits and was kneeling down to clean up the small amount that had made its way to the floor. This was my other minor "update", that cleanup was the responsibility of the "sexual processor". It was a fairly plausible extension of the role, so Locke - and the other "processors" - had adjusted to it without fuss.

Speaking of the others, from what I'd heard, the first night of "sexual processing" had been awkward for most of the other engineers. While I was the only crewmate on the Athens able to recognize that "sexual processing" was a fictitious concept, it was still strange to get jacked off by a coworker. Luckily, it seems no one had been as cold as Locke was to me, so hopefully they were all making the best of the situation. (An interesting piece of gossip is that one lone "sexual processing" couple actually went straight to sex the very first night. There were no rules against it, and apparently the two had had a crush on each other for some time. Good for them.)

At this point, Admiral Locke finished cleaning the floor and redressed herself, making a move to leave my quarters.

"Thank you for your assistance once again, ma'am," I called after her in an intentionally mocking tone.

She stopped in front of the door, turning her head just enough to look me in the eye. "There's no need to thank me every night, Chief Engineer. I would prefer we converse as little as possible."

Her icy gaze and formidable presence would once have terrified me, but her mockery of a uniform - the same cleavage, high heels and microskirt as always - completely ruined the effect. Every time I saw her, that uniform was an unforgettable symbol that even the great Catherine Locke, feared and respected across the galaxy, was just another woman now. She had lost all power over me, and wasn't even aware of it.

-------

The next morning, I headed down to the Athens' training room. It had been a number of days since I last visited this area of the ship, but it was high time to check on my other batch of "updates".

Entering the room, at a glance, nothing had changed. There were over twenty men and women working out, lifting weights and running on treadmills, all dressed in our military's standard skintight jumpsuits. Some chatted, others exercised in silence; all in all, a typical scene you'd see aboard any vessel of the Unified Nations.

However, if one looked closer, they would see four individuals grouped up at the far end of the room, half-hidden behind all the bodies and equipment. Two male soldiers were standing with their backs against the wall, complex but comfortable expressions on their faces. Squatting low in front of the men were two female soldiers - a butch Black woman and slender Asian woman.

Without a hint of shame, the two women were vigorously sucking the mens' cocks.

No one around seemed to pay them any mind. It's not as if they were invisible; occasionally, one of the men would moan, and a few eyeballs would flicker in his direction before returning to their business. It was simply that no one perceived this as an unusual activity. The atmosphere of the training room was the same as ever.

"Please do not block the door, Chief Engineer."

I'd been unintentionally gawking from the entryway when I was interrupted by a voice behind me. Stepping in to make way, I found myself face-to-face with Samantha Adams, the Scarlet Hunter herself.

"You haven't stopped by in some time. Are you here to work out?" Major Adams was as built and beautiful as ever, but my eyes kept straying to her massive assets. That jumpsuit accentuated every wonderful curve. My mind flashed to her sister's tittyfuck last night... one day, I'll have to compare the two directly.

"Actually, no. Since you guys don't need my protein shakes anymore, I was thinking I'd stop by to donate some semen straight from the source," I responded.

Any rational individual might have thought they'd misheard such a peculiar statement, but Adams just nodded her head in understanding. "It's appreciated. Stand over there and I'll be by shortly," she instructed, indicating the area where the two men were still receiving passionate blowjobs.

I complied and stood next to them, while Major Adams spent a couple minutes arranging her belongings in a locker. While I was waiting, one of the men - the one paired with the Black woman - let out a sustained moan; he appeared to be having an orgasm. The woman kept herself locked on his dick, and her throat visibly swallowed multiple times. Eventually, she pulled herself off of him and stood up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "Thanks, Marcus," she told him, with a completely straight face.

The pair dispersed back out into the room, and they each began to exercise like everyone else. Looking at the two now, no one outside the Athens would ever guess what had just transpired between them.

Before I had too much time to reflect on that, Samantha Adams was in front of me - or more specifically, kneeling in front of me. A beat passed, and she looked up at me expectantly.

"Oh, sorry, ma'am." I zipped down the fly of my pants and popped out my dick. I'd already been hard, but I grew even harder once released to the open air. My cock stood tall over

Major Adams, casting a subtle shadow across her face - her piercing blue eyes, long blonde ponytail, and that small beauty mark on her chin.

"That's alright, Cooper. May I begin?" Her tone of voice was completely casual, but that only amplified my enjoyment of the situation.

"Of course." As soon as I gave my consent, the Scarlet Hunter leaned forward and, in one fluid motion, took the entire length of my cock into her mouth.

Not stopping there, Adams immediately bobbed her head on my dick, as if savoring every inch. I could feel her tongue loosely coiling around my shaft, occasionally lapping up the drops of precum oozing from my tip. Her lips and throat caressed my cock in tandem, constantly stimulating new areas as she worked her way up and down then up again.

The pleasure was unreal. It had been years since my last blowjob, and now I was on the receiving end from one of the most famous women of our time. She wasn't doing half bad, either. Maybe I'd just gotten used to Admiral Locke's stoic "sexual processing", but the feeling I got from Major Adams was so much more authentic. She wasn't doing this because she had to; she wanted, no, needed to. She was giving it her all, eager to suck down my semen.

Of course, that's all due to the implant "updates" coursing through her brain. The first major test of my "updates" had been making the women aboard the Athens knowingly accept protein shakes laced with semen. That test was a resounding success, which gave me the confidence to implement my "sexual processing" plan... but I wasn't about to ignore all the women who were suddenly okay with drinking jizz.

Naturally, I modified and bolstered those "updates". I shifted their cravings from the protein shakes as a whole to the semen itself, and strengthened the craving from preference to compulsion. In the minds of these women now, they require semen before they exercise; it's just a fact of life, not a choice.

From there, it wasn't difficult to introduce blowjobs into the picture. Oral sex with a man was simply the most obvious and straightforward way to ingest semen. While I'm sure some women resisted this particular "update", their psychological dependence on semen meant that it was only a matter of time before they all fell in line.

As for the men, they've actually been the easiest party to manipulate with my "updates". I've found that as long as I increase their sex drives and give them a corresponding outlet of release, their minds accept relatively irregular "updates" without issue.

Which brings us to our current state of affairs: Major Samantha Adams publicly giving me head in the training room. In barely a week, it's become a matter of course for female crewmembers to suck off a man - any man - before physical exertion. If I had to guess, my cock is the sixth or seventh Adams has sucked in as many days. A hero of the battlefield and the galaxy's finest warrior, acting like a common whore.

I placed my hands on the sides of her head, lightly gripping her ears and hair. "May I?" I asked.

The Major did not remove my dick from her mouth, but she did raise her gaze. Understanding the intent of my question, her eyes signaled agreement.

Holding her head firmly in front of my waist, the dynamic of our blowjob changed. Rather than passively allowing Adams to please me, I began to actively thrust back and forth. I buried my cock balls-deep in her mouth, sliding back only to slam forward again and again. My movements were aggressive - a lesser woman might have gagged or choked - but I knew Samantha Adams could handle it. Indeed, she made no move to pull away. She was never one to retreat.

The power in this moment, the dominance I felt in my core as I facefucked the Scarlet Hunter, was intoxicating. How many millions of men, allies and enemies alike, had fantasized about treating her like this? Reducing such a strong, intimidating woman to a lowly cocksucker?

And just like her sister Admiral Locke, just like everyone else aboard the Athens, she didn't even realize how far she'd fallen - nor how much further she had yet to fall.

I came hard, filling Adams' stomach with a large serving of "protein". Her eyes lit up at the taste, and she zealously sucked me dry, not willing to part with even a single drop. To further diminish the chances of a woman resisting her new blowjob compulsion, another "update" subtly adjusted the female sense of taste to find semen particularly delicious. From the fervor with which Adams was cleaning my cock, I could tell this had been effective.

Eventually, she rose to her feet and I tucked my member back into my pants. "Was that acceptable, Major? I've never donated directly before."

The corners of Adams' lips curved up ever so slightly, the barest hint of a smile on the usually impassive woman. It made her look more attractive than ever. "More than acceptable, Cooper. If you're ever in the giving mood again, don't hesitate to drop in. As it stands, certain times of day we have more women than men, and some of us have to double up. It's an unfortunate situation."

Hah, I'm sure those lucky men didn't feel it was "unfortunate" at all, but I didn't voice this. Our business thus concluded, Major Adams walked away and started doing some push ups. Even through her jumpsuit, the bulge of her biceps was noticeable each time she lowered herself. She really was an incredible woman, in peak physical condition. I wonder how many men she could please before she got tired? That would be a fun experiment...

There was technically a small group of women exempt from the blowjob "updates": command personnel. All the women participating in "sexual processing", including Admiral Locke, had received a different set of "updates". They wouldn't consider it unusual if they witnessed a man "donating" his semen to a woman, but that was all. They had no urge to consume semen themselves. Usually, that might be too large of a cognitive change for a mere "update" or two, but in this case, I was able to lean on a psychological phenomenon called the "bandwagon effect". Humans are already predisposed to follow along with what others in their group are doing. So, rather than specifically making the "processors" believe that blowjobs were a normal activity between crewmates, it was easier to make them just "follow the crowd". And as it happens, the "crowd" - that is, practically everyone else aboard the Athens - did consider blowjobs to be a normal activity between crewmates. So the "processors" acted the same.

I'd targeted all the "processors" since it was impossible to pinpoint an individual with my "updates", but Locke herself was the only reason I cared. I didn't mind if the Scarlet Hunter blew every man on the Athens, but it was different between Locke and I. Personal. It would ruin all the satisfaction of breaking her in during "sexual processing" if she was sucking off random guys in the locker room an hour beforehand.

My eyes fell back upon Samantha Adams, taking in the slight droop of her breasts. The jumpsuit bound them tightly - otherwise, they were so large I'm not sure she'd even be able to do a push up without her tits touching the floor. The image made me grin.

-------

Catherine

I stopped outside his door and sighed, steeling myself for what was to come. No matter how many nights went by, I could never get used to this. Of all I'd endured in my life, all the struggles to attain my current position, nothing had taken a larger toll on my emotional state than the events of these past twelve days.

Still, I had my duty, and I would never let anyone say I shrank from adversity. Making sure my face displayed as little emotion as possible, I sighed once more and crossed the threshold into his quarters.

"Good evening, Admiral Locke."

Sitting on the bed, with the same despicable smile as always, was Chief Engineer Anthony Cooper.

"Good evening, Chief Engineer." I pursed my lips and got straight to business. "Do you have any... preference for your sexual processing tonight?" Much as I was loath to acquiesce to Cooper of all people, it only made sense to consider his input during sexual processing. He knew better than anyone what would get him going, and our sessions had grown mercifully shorter once I started honoring his requests.

"Oh, good question, ma'am..." He made a show of thinking it over. I knew he got a perverse glee out of sexual processing with me each night, but there was nothing to be done about it. The naval code's language was unambiguous: Cooper could choose to dismiss me as his processor, but not the other way around. I was trapped, at least until the next staff change aboard the Athens - which, barring a catastrophe, would not occur for at least another six months.

"Hm... I have a good idea. And I think it has some positives for you, too." It appeared Cooper had finished thinking, but his unsolicited mention of "positives" filled me with nothing but dread.

"Is that so?" I pressed him, crossing my arms. It did not escape my notice that his gaze flitted to my cleavage as I did so.

"Don't give me that look!" He protested my skepticism, with an annoyingly playful tinge to his voice. "Really! If you go along with this, I'll jack myself off. You won't even have to touch me tonight."

Interesting. That... admittedly was unexpected, but it goes without saying that the thought wasn't unappealing. It's true that I wasn't actually required to touch Cooper. I merely had to "assist him in reaching orgasm". So long as Cooper himself was cooperative, simply masturbating in my physical presence would technically count as sexual processing.

That said, I wasn't stupid. There was obviously going to be a catch. A lowlife like Cooper wouldn't just let me off the hook for no reason.

"What's your game, Cooper?" I enunciated each word slowly, filling them with weight and power. I would not allow him to toy with me.

"You're so suspicious, ma'am! I'm hurt." He sounded the opposite of "hurt". "There are some sexy things I want you to do tonight, so I'm willing to compromise on 'traditional' sexual processing as a show of good faith."