Starship of Lust Ch. 08

A little tired from doing most of the work these past ten or fifteen minutes, I extracted myself from the two women and sat on the floor a few feet away. My cock still stood tall, thickly coated with the sisters' vaginal juices.

"Woof!" "Arf!" Catherine and Samantha righted themselves and trotted over (on all fours, of course). Without me saying a word, my semen still all over both of their bodies, they dove face-first into my dick, licking away as if it was the most delicious food in the world. Their fervor for my cock nearly morphed into bickering, subtly but constantly pushing each other out of the way, before being forced to share again a second later.

They could probably spend a while like this and I was happy to let them. Checking the clock, we were only sixteen minutes into filming. Plenty of time for rounds two, and three, and perhaps even four.

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After exactly one hour (and multiple orgasms from all three of us), it finally came time to wrap up. Bracing myself for what was to come, I walked to the wall - and clicked the camera off.

Catherine was on me so fast I'd have believed she could teleport. Jabbing her forearm under my chin, she shoved me against the wall. Perhaps having ruminated on it during the session, her eyes no longer held any confusion. Now there was only fury, directed solely towards me. I might have been intimidated, were it not for her manner of dress. The collar and dog ears really deflated the image.

"Anthony." Despite her anger, she called me by my first name. Plus, she'd played the dutiful puppy the whole past hour. The "updates" were still in full force; all I had to do was lean on that fact. "Sexual processing is built on trust. You have pushed boundaries in the past, but never have you taken such flagrant action without my express approval. Do you have any justification for yourself?"

Behind her, Samantha had also risen to her feet. For the first time tonight, she looked confused. "Anthony. I believe you claimed you would discuss my participation with Admiral Locke in advance?"

It wasn't hard to get Samantha to join in on "sexual processing". "Sexual extraction" had given her a very casual attitude towards sex in general, and she was practically addicted to sex with me in particular. She wouldn't put anyone in harm's way to fuck me, but when I requested she aid her sister with my "processing", she readily agreed - assuming Catherine herself was okay with it. Taking advantage of the trust she had for me, bestowed by the "updates", I purposely misled Samantha. When I told her I'd handle approving her inclusion with Catherine, she didn't question it.

It was risky to put myself in this situation, but the key was that Samantha still trusted me. I could see it in her eyes. She was puzzled, but not hostile. It wasn't like I'd done anything that bad (at least compared to what was considered "normal" on the Athens these days). The "updates" could smooth over a small breach of faith like this and keep her on my side. That would be my path to Catherine.

"Admiral..." I started, hard to breathe with her arm on my neck. "I deeply apologize. There's no excuse for this, but it... it slipped my mind."

There was a long silence. Catherine looked incredulous. "It... slipped your mind? You forgot to ask my permission to include my sister in your sexual processing?"

"Y-yes," I managed. "I... didn't realize what I had done until Samantha was already on the scene. And, at that point, I had to stay in character. Right?"

Catherine narrowed her eyes. It was an incredibly lame, borderline negligent, excuse. If we were alone, there's no way "I forgot" would fly. But...

"Catherine. It was a relatively last-minute decision for me to participate in tonight's sexual processing, and I know Anthony has been extraordinarily busy with professional duties as of late. The fault is mine. I should have discussed it with you directly rather than relying on a third party." Samantha came to my defense. I hadn't coached her on any of this, but I also hadn't donated any semen to her for two days now. It "almost" happened once or twice, but I'd pretended like important engineering work came up instead. Samantha knew me well enough by now. If I was "too busy" for sex, I was busy.

Catherine still looked skeptical, but at least released me from the wall. I staggered, catching my breath. She had a grip. "Thank you, ma'am". I couldn't use the "updates" to make Catherine directly trust me, but I could easily strengthen an existing trust - and I did. Over the past few days, I'd planted "updates" to ensure Catherine deeply trusted Samantha, even more than she already had. Samantha supporting me would, at the very least, make Catherine reconsider her actions. I just had to take it home.

Mustering all the emotion I could, I prepared for a "heartfelt" plea. "I'm sorry, ma'am, truly. I... think I was too fixated on improving the experience for viewers. Your videos are popular enough, but your sister's in another league. With the two of you, together? The sky's the limit."

I played to her logic, her sense of duty and her skewed priorities. She wanted her porn videos to be the best they could be. Including another woman in the process, especially the Scarlet Hunter, would objectively make them magnitudes better. Considering that, isn't a little forgetfulness forgivable?

Catherine still seemed torn, but hadn't responded either way yet. Samantha, perhaps sensing her sister was undecided, spoke up again. "Catherine, if I may. I feel this would be an efficient use of both of our time. Anthony Cooper and I are already engaging in frequent intercourse as part of semen extraction." Catherine said nothing, but her jaw tightened. I don't think she'd been aware I was fucking her sister on the side. "If my participation in his sexual processing would assist in your own endeavors and simultaneously allow me to extract semen, I see no benefit in refusing." While it was a logical (and appreciated) point in my favor, I don't believe Samantha made this argument selflessly. She'd been in heaven every time my dick touched her tonight. By inserting herself into my "sexual processing", she was guaranteeing daily sex with me. Catherine didn't need to know how strong of a motivator that was for her sister, though.

After listening in silence as we both made our case, Catherine finally raised her eyes. Any overt emotion in her expression had been brought under control. She was back to wearing the professional mask of an Admiral. "Samantha, you may participate in Anthony's sexual processing as you please from this point forward. I have no objections, as long as you inform me of your involvement beforehand."

Then Catherine's gaze turned to me, growing noticeably colder. "Chief Engineer. Forgetfulness can be deadly for one in your position. Don't let it happen again." Her voice dripped with venom. She hadn't forgiven me.

I nodded respectfully, breathing a sigh of relief on the inside. We'd made it.

But I wasn't done yet. "Of course, Catherine. You have my word." I waited a few seconds before moving on, to let her anger cool. "Uh, before you leave, ma'am, if you're willing to entertain another topic..."

Rolling her eyes, Catherine waved her hand half-heartedly, urging me to get on with it. Great. "While the circumstances were... unfortunate, I think tonight showed that it is extremely difficult for an untrained actor to not break character in any way. Your expressions and reactions after Major Adams' introduction were noticeably... un-dog-like, and we can't guarantee that similar unexpected events won't occur during future filming sessions."

She had no particular reaction, but didn't object, likely having already realized the same. She also knew I was driving at something with this train of thought, but wasn't exactly sure what. "What is your suggestion, Anthony?"

I took a deep breath. "Logically, you'll never be able to embrace the character if part of you is still holding onto your original self. There are methods modern actors use to 'suppress' their sense of self and immerse themselves wholly in the role. Can I send you some relevant documentation later tonight?"

She stared for a moment, perhaps lost in thought. On the surface, my request seemed relatively innocuous, so she was probably examining it from every angle for possible malicious intent.

"Fine. Send me the papers." Evidently, she found nothing.

"Will do, Admiral. Right away!"

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After that, Catherine Locke and Samantha Adams departed for the evening, striding out into the hall side-by-side in those mouthwatering dog costumes. If they were embarrassed, neither showed any sign of it.

Once they'd left, my mind turned to what came next. The difficulty with my "updates" is that they're not suited to directly overwriting one's memory or personality. They function by making gradual shifts in the brain's reasoning and thought processes. I can guide someone towards a ridiculous lifestyle over time, as I have throughout the Athens, but any major change has to be "logical" enough for their subconscious to accept it. In hindsight, maybe I should have pushed Catherine towards something other than "sexual processing", something that would have been easier to turn on its head and convert her into a full-time sex slave. But it was no use pondering "what-ifs". I'd made my choices. My current situation was what it was and I had to make the best of it.

My next steps would be bold, but should be successful according to several simulations. True, my "updates" couldn't force someone to forget themselves - but if the subject willingly forgets, that's something else entirely.

Practically skipping to my desk, I sat down and sent Catherine a collection of articles and interviews with (mostly obscure) actors. They were all genuine publications, not anything I'd fabricated. All were carefully curated by me to espouse an array of meditation and self-hypnosis techniques. Taken in total, they outlined various tips and tricks to "forget" oneself while acting and "become" the character.

Put bluntly, it was pseudo-science. Even with the most receptive individual following these techniques to the letter, even if the results were everything they claimed to be, it's impossible for one person to truly become another. There would always be a kernel of their original personality, existing as a kind of spectator and ready to reassert control at any time. However, once augmented by the insidious power of my "updates", it would be a whole different story. In fact, the techniques themselves weren't actually important. They're just a way for my "updates" to get their metaphorical foot in the door.

This was the biggest leap in my plan, an unproven but crucial theory. Based on all my observations, it appeared implant "updates" could push the brain past conventional limits. For example, the crew-wide "processors" became adept at pole-dancing exceptionally quickly. Similarly, while it's entirely possible Catherine Locke is innately talented at acting, she melts into her roles during "sexual processing" in a way talent alone can't explain. She performs more like an acclaimed actor than a naval admiral, even able to cry on command. Sure, it's not perfect (as this evening demonstrated), but when she's on, she's on.

The implant "updates" were powerful. As long as she tries to forget, tries to become the character, I will ensure that she can. Not right away, and not all at once, but if I keep piling on the "updates"...

Catherine would only even consider entertaining measures like this because of her existing "updates" and subsequent overpowering desire to better our "sexual processing" videos. Minor as it was, the fact that she cracked tonight will weigh on her mind; that will be her incentive, her impetus for further improvement. She'll probably still be skeptical reading these documents, but as long as she gives it an earnest attempt, she'll have sealed her fate.

This would be the final piece of the puzzle, the final nail in Admiral Locke's coffin. All I needed was a little more time.