Starship of Lust Ch. 07

In that moment it took to find the Chief Engineer, Sakamoto was already staring at my bare breasts. A heat grew in my core. I tried to ignore it. Covering myself with my hands as best I could, I hurried after Cooper.

"You made it," came Cooper's sardonic comment once I reached his side. I didn't respond, not trusting myself to bear this indignity without profanity. Undeterred, Cooper's hand gripped my ass as we walked. I wanted to vomit.

His fingers wriggling like worms against my skin, Cooper whispered in my ear, "Why don't we begin now, start by filming our walk? We won't actually fuck until the bridge, but it'll give the viewer some buildup before jumping straight in."

I frowned, but seriously contemplated the proposal. While the walk to the bridge from the engineers' quarters wasn't terribly long, every minute we spent filming the walk is one less minute I have to actually have sex with Cooper.

We passed another soldier, this time a woman. She too was clearly taken aback by my nudity, but said nothing.

That was the other angle to consider: the potential damage to my public image. If we started filming, Cooper would doubtless request that I play some ridiculous character. I shuddered at the thought of "begging" to suck his cock in front of respected colleagues. But - was that not an illusion of choice? Even if I refused him now, by the time we reached the bridge, we would start filming anyway. The bridge was a marginally less public setting, but either way it would be a humiliating experience.

The decision was obvious then. "Do it," I spat. Then, in a plainly pleased tone, Cooper explained my "character" for his processing, "Tonight, you'll act like a nymphomaniac. You'll be crazy for sex, and especially crazy for my dick. You're also unashamed for everyone to see; in fact, you love to be seen." I nodded sharply once he was done. That was about what I'd expected

"I'm going to turn the camera on then. Are you ready?"

I took a deep breath, mentally forcing my hands to my sides, no longer covering any part of me. In mere moments, there would be no room for modesty. Then - "I'm ready."

Cooper tapped the camera and a tiny red light blinked on. Like a switch was flipped, I grabbed his arm and pulled him close, squirming my body against his. "Mr. Cooper, sir... please, oh please, won't you fuck me? I can't stop thinking about your cock..." It had gone unsaid, but it was always implied that I should act submissive during Cooper's processing unless I'm specifically told otherwise. My voice was also an octave higher than usual. It was a call I made on the fly, seeming fitting for the role.

"Be patient, Catherine," he chided me. We kept walking, but he raised his other hand (the first still on my ass) to fondle my chest before pulling me in for a long kiss.

"Mm..." I moaned, in mock pleasure, stroking his crotch over his pants. "That was wonderful, sir, but you know I want more."

We kept up in this way as we approached the bridge. I pleaded with Cooper for sex as he repeatedly spurned my advances, all the while barely keeping his hands off me. Altogether, we passed perhaps twenty crewmates on the way. Two couples were engaged in sexual processing themselves, but the rest appeared to be on business. To their credit, each and every one of them acted professionally as they walked by, although there was no hiding their shock to see me in this state. True to my character, whenever someone drew near, I made a show of it - arching my back to show off my tits, lifting a leg to expose my pussy, and so on. Until I was out of sight, their eyes took in everything. With every look, the fire inside me grew stronger. I could feel my face was beet-red from embarrassment, but I also - started getting wet.

Eventually, after approximately six minutes of filming, we entered the bridge. At any time, at least a dozen people were on-staff here. Tonight, there were fourteen. Only a few were permanent "bridge personnel" - that is, sexual processors like me. The rest were here for temporary, interim tasks.

All fourteen sets of those eyes turned to face Cooper and I - though especially me. I wished I could explain the situation, tell them this was just Cooper's sexual processing, but the camera was on. For the sake of everyone watching this video in the future, I had to stay in character.

So, instead, I spun around to face Cooper, rubbing my pussy against the tent in his pants. "We're on the bridge, Mr. Cooper. I was patient, just like you told me to. Fuck me, now, please!" I sounded petulant and pathetic, like a child who'd been promised candy.

"Almost." Cooper brushed me off and walked to the captain's chair, sliding a finger along the armrest before looking back at me. "I'd like to sit here. May I?"

The chair was a symbol of absolute authority and prestige. Officially, only I - captain of the Athens - was ever allowed to sit upon it. That said, it was frankly one of the lesser naval regulations. There were no particular penalties associated with breaking it, as long as you had said captain's permission.

"Yes! Just hurry up!" Both in character and out, my patience was running thin.

Chuckling, Cooper dropped his pants (leaving his shirt with the camera) and sat his bare cheeks upon the chair. His penis sprang up, ready and waiting for my embrace.

"Sit here," he said, patting on his lap. "Face outward."

My heart froze, but my body didn't. In fact, I practically leapt onto Cooper. His cock slid into me without resistance as I squealed in ecstasy. "Oh, Mr. Cooper, thank you! I'm a hungry little slut... I can't go a single day without your dick!"

Not even able to see his face, I rode Cooper. Everyone on the bridge was staring at me. My tits flopping, hips moving, mouth half-open from joy and lust. I was so hot. It felt incredible, and that was no act.

It was too much.

"A-ah-ahhhh!"

I came. I came, from Cooper's dick, in what I'm sure was less than a minute of penetration.

I didn't have the time or energy to care. My hips didn't stop, couldn't stop. Cooper pawed at my tits from behind. My head tilted back as I moaned, loudly and without restraint. There was no dignity whatsoever to my appearance, but I knew my subordinates would understand the duty of a sexual processor. They must. Many, even most, had seen me during crew-wide sexual processing.

Refocusing on the world around me, I realized my crew had done far more than understand. Several of the men had lost their pants, enlisting nearby women for semen extraction. Some kept watching me, remaining seated as a female comrade sucked them off. Others transitioned into full-blown sex themselves, pinning a woman against the wall or over a console as their cocks pistoned in and out.

My solitary moan became a chorus, joined by almost everyone on the bridge. Before long, Cooper's dick convulsed, spewing its seed inside me. There were still fifteen minutes of filming to go, at least. This was sure to be his first of multiple orgasms tonight.

My vision again took in the image of the bridge before me. Behind the dozen or so intertwined bodies of men and women, the main viewport set a wide backdrop of innumerable stars, twinkling in the endless darkness. Staring into the vast blackness of space, it was almost as if time began to slow. I felt... something, barely a feeling, stirring at the edge of my mind.

My sister and I complemented each other well. While she was hardly dim, Samantha was a straightforward person, most renowned for her formidable combat prowess. On the other hand, my own greatest strength was my intellect. At times it was a curse; on some level I couldn't stop thinking, even when my conscious mind was preoccupied.

This was one such moment. Bubbling up in this fraction of a second, the events of recent months raced through my mind, chasing a connection I wasn't even sure existed. Cooper's escalating sexual processing. The rise of casual semen extraction aboard the Athens. The success of crew-wide sexual processing. The network logs uncovered by Samantha's investigation, which had yet to be resolved. A report that had once crossed my desk, titled -

Cooper abruptly grabbed my neck, pulling me backward into a kiss. My tongue happily wrestled his (per my character, of course). "Oh, Mr. Cooper! Don't stop, don't stop!" I yelled - or tried to. With Cooper sucking my tongue, it came out more like a series of unintelligible moans.

All the while, his cock kept pounding my pussy. My hips moved even harder and faster, drowning in the nonstop, overwhelming pleasure. Whatever had been almost on my mind, I'd already forgotten entirely.

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"Ah..." I laid face-down across my bed, satisfied with another glorious night of "sexual processing". This was the beginning of the end for Catherine. For a whole thirty minutes tonight, she'd been my personal slut - and she'd already agreed to another thirty minutes tomorrow morning, and every morning thereafter. As long as I filmed our rendezvous, she was at my beck and call, more concerned with helping internet strangers jack off than her personal pride or well-being. And for the full duration of her career as a porn star, I would be her sole partner - thanks to my "updates", obviously.

I thought back to Catherine shaking her tits at her scantily-clad subordinates in the hallway. That look in her eyes was priceless. She'd been drenched, her pussy begging for dick, when I finally fucked her. I'd also used my "updates" to install a touch of exhibitionism in her, which was clearly effective. As with the previous masochism "update", I didn't want to go overboard. It wasn't enough to actually override her embarrassment, but it did make the eyes of others feel good. I'm sure that was another reason she was so willing to upload more videos, even if she wouldn't admit it to herself.

Despite the odyssey I'd just been through, I felt my little man stiffen again from the memories of Catherine debasing herself. Before long, I'd be able to call upon Catherine herself to relieve me, no matter the hour... but for now, I'd have to make do with an alternative.

Working off my pants and making my way to the bathroom, I opened the door. Sitting on my toilet was a nude blonde woman. Her limbs were bound in a tight frog-tie, forcing her legs bent at the knee, while a bulbous, solid black helmet covered her eyes and ears. Such helmets were commonly used for transporting prisoners of war; anyone wearing one could neither see nor hear. The woman's nose and below were exposed, but her mouth was open wide, filled with a red ball gag. At her crotch, two purple vibrating dildos were stuffed deep into her ass and pussy. Just above them, another smaller vibrator was taped over her clitoris, jittering violently. A river of fluid gushed from her vagina, and a similar stream of drool leaked from her mouth, flowing just past the beauty mark on her chin.

Walking up to the woman, I reached behind her head to undo the gag. While it fell to the floor, her mouth stayed open, as if waiting for something. In fact, that's exactly what she was doing. She had come so far so fast.

I prodded her lip with my cock. Naturally, even automatically, Samantha Adams turned her head and began to suck.