Starship of Lust Ch. 06

If this had been the Catherine Locke of three months ago, or even one month ago, she would have immediately shut me down. But in her new existence, obedience and submission were becoming the norm. Further, my stated basis for elongating the recording - to improve the video for viewers - wasn't incorrect.

She grimaced, but eked out a bitter "Very well". All the bite in her words was gone these days. I loved it.

I strode towards her until we faced each other, and dropped my pants. Catherine glanced down at my cock, erect and waiting. She hid it well, but I saw the faintest hint of desire in her eyes. This woman was mine.

"Let's go with the sex slave today." I told her, indicating what character she should play. "Start with a blowjob."

"Yes sir, Mr. Cooper." Immediately, her expression and demeanor shifted. For my next two ejaculations, my pleasure is all that mattered to her.

I'd started having her call me "Mr. Cooper" when she was acting as a slave. "Master" was a tempting title, but something about "Mr. Cooper" felt more personal - and more demeaning. It reminded her that she was serving me, not some nameless figure.

Catherine crouched low, heartily swallowing my dick. She hadn't touched her uniform yet, and the sight of the great Admiral in full formal garb, enthusiastically sucking "Mr. Cooper's" cock, almost made me explode right off the bat. No matter how many times I fucked Catherine, it always turned me on to think about how thoroughly I had corrupted her.

Catherine never took her mouth off my dick for even a second. She had become extremely proficient at blowjobs, a combination of my "updates" and her own formidable work ethic. I leaned back on my heels and let her work, knowing I would never get tired of this feeling.

As this would be only my first orgasm of the night, I had no reason to hold back, and it wasn't long before I was pumping my jizz down her throat. Catherine never complained about swallowing; at this point in time, every woman on the Athens was hard-wired to find semen almost addictively delicious. Catherine Locke was no exception.

After licking it clean, she released my cock and looked up at me from the ground. "What next, sir?" She'd gotten so good at this. Her face and voice were meek and submissive, but interlaced with a note of sensuality. Anyone watching the video recording would reasonably think "he owns her, but she likes it".

"Let's show the camera your tits." I pulled her to her feet, and tore through the top buttons of her jacket. Her medals and the like went flying, clattering across the floor.

To my surprise, she wore no bra. Her bare boobs popped out at me, her nipples already turgid. "Where's your bra?" I asked, genuinely clueless. Catherine blushed a little - part of the act, no doubt - and muttered, "I... assumed you would like it that way, Mr. Cooper. Forgive me if I made a mistake."

I smiled. She was exactly right; I often found her underwear to be an encumbrance, just an extra layer to take off before the main event. She was starting to anticipate my desires and act upon them with no input from me at all. "Wonderful, Catherine. You're perfect." I knelt down and sucked on each of her nipples in turn, using my hands to play with the other.

She moaned in response. "O-ohh! Thank you, sir! It feels amazing." That, I knew, was no act. Her tits were sensitive, and her body rejoiced when I played with them. In times like this, the line between her personas began to blur. Morals aside, both the "sexual processor" and the "normal" Catherine enjoyed a man sucking on her tits, and "sexual processing" allowed her to indulge.

My free hand moved from her tit to her pussy. Catherine slid off her pants to grant me access. Like her bra, her panties were nowhere to be seen. What a splendid sex slave she was.

Fingering her pussy as she moaned louder, I stood to my full height and kissed her, knocking off her cap in the process. Catherine's tongue embraced mine, and her hand found its way to my cock. My erection had already returned.

Following my lead, we ambled towards the wall nearest the recording camera, still kissing and stroking each other. Once we were in position, I pulled back and gave Catherine a gentle shove. She read my intent and bent forward; her hands were on the wall, her ass pointing out, her tits swaying freely. Her head craned back to look at me, and she begged, "Please sir, fuck me. I need your majestic cock filling up my pussy."

Her hips wiggled to entice me, inching closer to my dick of her own accord. With only a single step forward, I was inside her. I knew the camera framed us perfectly here. Any viewer would see a perfect silhouette of Admiral Catherine Locke, naked save for tatters of a white jacket around her torso, gleefully squealing as a man pistoned her from behind. Her loose tits swung hard with his movements, the flesh of her ass jiggling with every thrust. Her nails scraped against the wall as her hands balled into fists, an involuntary reaction to the immense pleasure pounding into her again and again.

"Who's your master?" I shouted.

"You are, sir!" She managed between moans.

"Who?!" I said again.

"You, sir! Mr. Cooper! Anthony Cooper is my master!"

She came as she said this, but I didn't stop. Catherine existed for my pleasure in this moment; any enjoyment of her own was just a happy side-effect.

Ready for a change of pace, I pulled out of her pussy and immediately slammed my cock forward again into her ass. She yelped in both pain and pleasure. We'd never had anal sex before, nor had I discussed this with her beforehand.

But, like a good little slave, she didn't say a word. The tightness of her ass was a whole different sensation than her pussy. It wasn't as lubricated, so there was more friction as it clung to me. It wasn't at all a bad feeling.

"Do you like it when I fuck your ass, bitch?"

"Yes, sir! It's the best! I'm so grateful to give you my anal virginity!"

Well, well, well. "Is that so? Your husband never enjoyed this plump ass of yours?"

"Never!" She emphatically denied my insinuation. "You're my first time, Mr. Cooper!"

I'd always assumed, being a married woman at her age, there was nothing left for me to "take" from Catherine. Her sex life with her husband must not have been particularly adventurous.

I laughed and pumped harder. "Well then, Catherine! Enjoy your first experience of a man cumming up your ass!"

"I will! I will! Give it to me! Make sure my asshole never forgets the shape of your cock!" She was practically screaming, her voice and mind flooded with sexual gratification. Streams of fluid slid down her legs from her pussy to the floor. Even for her first time having anal sex, she was as wet as ever. I'm sure my mild "masochistic updates" were helping out.

I glanced at the camera, thinking about all the people who would see this in the future - all the random strangers that would bear witness to Catherine's debasement.

And then I came.

-------

As usual, Catherine immediately cleaned up and left once my "sexual processing" was complete. Even by her standards, her departure was unusually brusque. She was probably upset about the unplanned anal sex.

It didn't matter. Tonight has been extremely fruitful. Taking Catherine's anal virginity was a happy accident, but more important was that I'd gotten her to agree to being filmed and convinced her to let me cum more than once. The door to control the rest of her life had opened a small crack. With further "updates", I can blow that door wide open.

In the short term, I'd upload our sex tape for the world to see. This wasn't actually as risky as it appeared on the surface. Hyperrealistic AI-generated porn was prominent enough that no reasonable individual would assume this recording was legitimate, especially with such a "ridiculous" premise. Catherine Locke, dressed in formal naval wear, submissively blowing and fucking some random dude sounds like exactly the sort of thing that would be AI-generated.

To be safe, I ran the video through a filter which altered my face to be unrecognizable. Catherine was famous enough not to raise a red flag, but people might ask questions if my likeness was found in a random "AI" porn video.

Obviously, it wouldn't normally be possible to upload porn to the internet from within a warship. Communications with the outside world were severely limited for security purposes. However, I was the Chief Engineer of the Athens. The ship maintained a network connection to HQ for emergencies, and I was able to piggyback off that connection to disseminate my video onto porn sites back home. It was child's play compared to hacking the crew's neural implants.

Just for my own amusement, I also coded a simple algorithm to spam politicians with deceptive ads for the video. It probably wouldn't amount to anything, but there was a small chance it'd lead to Catherine's husband seeing me fuck his wife. I couldn't resist the impulse.

Handling all of that took basically the remainder of the evening. However, just as I was planning to go to bed, someone knocked on my door.

Huh. I wasn't expecting anyone tonight. Maybe Catherine had returned for some reason?

Figuring it wasn't a good idea to pretend to be asleep, I closed down my terminal and opened the door.

It wasn't Catherine, although that had been a close guess. Standing outside my quarters was her sister: the Scarlet Hunter herself, Major Samantha Adams. Her hair was done up in two long unbraided pigtails, a surprisingly girlish choice. Otherwise, she wore her typical jumpsuit, although it had been significantly altered by my "updates" in recent weeks. The previously full-body jumpsuit now more closely resembled a bright pink swimsuit. In terms of skin coverage, it was as if she wore a sleeveless crop top with deep cleavage plus a pair of panties, long boots and gloves. Her shoulders, biceps, thighs, belly and most of her chest were fully exposed. Even the "panties" had a conspicuous hole running through the center, displaying her ass and pussy to the world.

This "jumpsuit" was extremely flattering on the Major, showing off both her muscular body and huge rack. It was no shock that she'd been quite popular for "semen extraction" amongst the crew.

Before I could ask why she had come, Samantha Adams declared in an icy voice, "We need to talk". Her tone brooked no argument.