The Furies

"Not bad for first timers. Jugs, you're coming with me this afternoon, after I clear it with the Boss. Cloudy, Lou, hit the whirlpool. Expect pains in places you didn't even know you had. Rebel, no one has ever stayed with me for a full session the first time out. You just might make it, girl."

With that, the tall girl rose and exited the training room.

"Ohhh, fuck," Lou groaned.

"What was that shit?" Cloudy asked in a breathless whisper.

Holly just made a sound like a wounded animal. Rebel stood dazedly and took a faltering step towards the exit and the short hallway to the whirlpool. Unaccountably, she stopped and turned back. Cloudy was trying shakily to get up. Lou hadn't moved and Holly was still curled up in a ball. Rebel felt something strange, a compulsion she was unfamiliar with. Deciding she was too tired to fight it, she trudged back and extended her hand to Cloudy.

The warrior's eyes were defiant for just a blazing second, and then melted into a grateful smile. Rebel helped her to her feet and together they helped Lou up. It took all three of them to get the nearly unconscious blonde to her feet. In a shaking, quivering group, they slowly aided one another to the whirlpool.

Rebel pulled her clothes off with difficulty, finding even the usually automatic ritual to be too much to do without conscious thought. Her arms and hands were shaking so violently by the time she was naked, she was forced to hug herself and breathe deeply, like she had just run from the authorities after a heist.

Cloudy ended up helping Lou undress and Rebel aided Holly. The poor girl was in agony and Rebel felt for her. Despite her pain and fatigue, she couldn't help but ogle Holly's big tits and smiled when she saw her soft blonde pubes. She helped her to her feet and together they hobbled into the deep whirlpool to join Lou and Cloudy.

Holly was lying on her bunk when Surfer walked in. She looked fresh and fit, totally recovered from the work out.

"Oh come on, girls, it wasn't that bad," the superbly fit pilot chided.

She wore olive drab coveralls and seemed none the worse for wear from the morning's exercises, unlike the rest of them who were in varying states of immobile pain.

"Surfer, kiss my ass," Lou declared vehemently.

"Love to, but you have to earn it," she replied unflappably.

"Up and at 'em, Jugs."

"Screw you," the blonde blurted out and then moaned and cradled her aching breasts.

"Damn, I should have brought my strap on with all the invitations I'm getting today."

The dark haired girl grabbed Holly's hand and bodily pulled her to her feet. Every muscle in Holly's body seemed to protest and knot at once and she would have fallen if Surfer hadn't held her up.

"Come on," Surfer said, half leading, half carrying the tall woman with her.

Parked outside was a jeep, which Surfer helped Holly into and then got in herself. She drove carefully through the squad bay, but opened it up some once in the long service corridor. When they passed the large yellow line painted on the floor that signaled the boundary of the flight area Holly managed to speak.

"I can't leave the fight area, Surfer."

"Yes, you can, with the Boss's permission."

"Where are you taking me?"

"York, of course."

The town of York was housed within a huge armored cocoon in the center of the ship. Today's ships were basically floating cities in their own right, with recreational facilities and other amenities built right in. When the Yorktown had been laid down, each of the massive ships had been built with a city inside. Crews would often go crazy, back when space flight was young, because of the enforced boredom.

To forestall this, 'City-ships' had been a stopgap measure. The small cities provided recreation, a place to spend money, women, booze and all the things sailors were missing. The next generation of ships had foregone the city, but had expansive facilities for recreation and were Authority mandated to put in and give shore leave every three months. After that, as Cosmo-psychology began to isolate the exact factors involved and their effects, ship interiors were tailored to incorporate the findings.

The citizens of York were all descendants of former crew members, with some families tracing their line back to one of the original volunteers. They lived in a bubble, with a strict set of laws dealing with births, deaths, and immigration. Children were forced to leave at age eighteen. Those who wished to could return after they earned their citizenship.

Holly didn't know any of this, nor did she care. Each time the wheels hit a new deck plate the resulting shock seemed to speed directly into her boobs. All her body was one screaming mass of pain and she wished again she had listened to her folks.

"We're here," Surfer announced, as the jeep came to a stop. The building was a carbon copy of the one next to it, thirty stories of reinforced concrete and shatterproof glass. Surfer helped her out of the jeep and guided her into the building. The inside was hollow, with a huge atrium and glass elevator at the center. Shops of all descriptions were stacked, tier up on tier.

On the twenty-seventh floor they got off, crossed the narrow catwalk and entered the second shop they came to. It was a lingerie shop, filled with every possible type and style of undergarments, from fetish to functional.

A short woman with blue hair walked up and embraced Surfer, then gave Holly the once over.

"Let me guess dearie," she said in a kindly voice, "thirty-eight double D?"

"Thirty-eight E," Holly mumbled, feeling like she was about to pass out.

The woman shook her head and laughed.

"Zero-g rig?" she asked, turning back to Surfer.

"Yeah," the dark haired girl said with a smirk.

The woman took Holly by the hand and led her back to a dressing room. She pulled out some material and began working with it, chatting all the time.

"Strip to the waist please," she called as she took a large pair of shears from a drawer.

Holly tried, but her fingers wouldn't cooperate. Suddenly Surfer was there, casually removing her clothes, but the look in her eyes was anything but casual and despite herself, Holly blushed. Surfer stepped back then, but made no effort to leave the room. Her dark eyes were locked on Holly's big tits and when the blonde caught her eyes, the dark haired girl theatrically licked her lips.

"I don't understand you girls. I'd just get a reduction myself, but hey, we all have our preferences, right sweetie? Arms up please," she said, wrapping a thin green sheet of gauzy material around Holly's chest.

She took out a small blowtorch and lit it, causing Holly's eyes to get big.

"Relax. That material is a synthetic, it's totally non-flammable, but heat causes it to stiffen while staying soft," she said matter of factly as she applied the flame to the material. Holly felt nothing at first, but soon the material seemed to be shrinking, molding itself to her breasts.

The woman put out the torch and removed the material, taking it over to a machine which cut the now hardened cups out. An hour of sewing, fitting, sewing, refitting and finally Holly found herself wearing a light, but extremely strong and supportive bra. She could jump up and down and her breasts would barely move, not that she had any intention of jumping, she still felt like death warmed over.

The woman led her out, Surfer signed a receipt and they were on their way back to the barracks before Holly's dazed mind could really come to grips with anything.

***

Once the lithe instructor and their blonde flight mate departed, the room returned to silence. The dinner tones came over the speaker, but still no one moved.

"Rebel?" Cloudy said quietly.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"No sweat," she responded, feeling silly.

"Thanks both of ya. I was so knackered, I don't think I could have gotten up by myself," Lou added.

"We better try and make it to dinner, or it will be a long night," Rebel said, trying to change the subject.

"True enough," Cloudy replied, rising slowly.

Lou went on about how much she appreciated their help as they all dressed. She was sweet, Rebel decided. Not the kind of sweet she was used to, wheedling, cold, calculated to get by on charity. Just a simply and genuinely a sweet person. She had no experience with that.

Or with friends. That was something she could never have afforded back home. Everyone had ulterior motives. Everyone was out for number one. Anyone could be the one who would sell you out to save themselves. Even lovers. Friends were a liability. They caused you pain and made you weak.

She kept reminding herself of that as she dressed, as they all shuffled out to dinner, as they ate. Lou talked about her home, her family, and her life, totally openly and in unguarded terms. Rebel was used to people barely speaking about themselves and volunteering no information without need. Cloudy was less forthcoming, her world being ruled by different values, but she opened up a little, here and there.

Rebel said little, but she listened and read between the lines.

Friends are dangerous, she reminded herself as she lay down and the light went off.

"Bullshit," she whispered to the immortal darkness before she plunged into the abyss of dreamless sleep.

***

Holly moaned softly and spread her legs wider. The Jeep was parked in a disused dead end access tunnel. Jugs was leaning back in the seat, with her new bra pushed above her ample breasts; her BDUs were around her ankles and Surfer's insistent fingers driving into her pussy.

While three fingers plunged into her, the flight instructor's thumb repeatedly brushed her now engorged clit. Surfer's mouth was busy too, sucking on Holly's nipple while her tongue feathered it. Holly could hear people walking past the entrance and the thrill of possible discovery only added to the rapidly building tension in her stomach.

"Oh god!" she gasped, when a particularly strong tremor rocked her.

Surfer ceased tonguing her nipple and stared into her eyes.

"Come for me. Come for Daddy," she demanded.

Her fingers continued to plunge into Holly's tight passage, but she added a twisting motion that made it seem like even more were in her. Surfer's thumb pressed hard on her clit now, pushing down and relaxing in rhythm with her fingers. They were demanding, confident and strong, which was exactly the kind of lover that made Holly's knees go weak.

She tossed her head back, grimaced as she fought back the elated scream that wanted to burst forth when her pussy spasmed and sent waves of heady pleasure shooting to her brain.

"Uh...Uh...Uh," she cried, fighting to keep the sounds from bursting forth and giving them away. As the orgasm subsided, delicious little ripples and occasional shocks passed through her.

She felt Surfer move and opened her eyes in time to see the lithe beauty toss her boxers over the steering wheel. She climbed up on the seat, her legs on the back deck and lowered her slippery cunt onto Holly's lips.

Holly looked up her body, past the shaved mound, small, pert tits capped with dusky nipples, and into those amazingly sure eyes.

They seemed to sparkle in the dim light, like a cat's.

"Eat me, you hot bitch."

Holly quickly closed her eyes and extended her tongue. She licked gently up the silken lips, enjoying the strong, musky flavor.

Surfer wasn't in the mood for gentle lovemaking, she grabbed two handfuls of blonde hair and pulled Holly nose deep into her wet cunt. Using the handfuls of hair like the handles on a bicycle, she began to grind her pussy onto the blonde's face.

Holly shifted her body slightly, while bringing her hands to Marina's firm ass and holding on. The new position, as well as extra stability, allowed the lithe girl to begin riding Holly's upturned face for all she was worth.

"That's it. Eat that pussy. Ohhhh, yeah!" Surfer groaned.

She came quickly, surprising Holly with the volume of her juices, which quickly coated her face and filled her mouth. She was still licking when Surfer dismounted and dressed, throwing the Jeep into reverse almost before Holly got her bra back on and tunic closed.

The dark-headed girl tore through the service corridor, leaning on the horn and cursing as people dodged out of her way.

"What's the hurry?" Holly asked, still in a euphoric state.

"Boss gave me permission to take you into town and get you a zero-g rig, but she didn't give me permission to fuck you. She's a tight ass, but she isn't dumb." Surfer said.

"Well, that's good," Holly said smiling.

"Good?"

"I thought you were in a hurry to get away from me," she said quietly.

Surfer laughed out loud as they crossed back into the flight area.

"Baby, that was just an appetizer. Wait'll your first liberty, I'm gonna fuck you raw," she promised.

The next morning the four of them made their way towards the cafeteria. They moved slowly, with variations on a shuffling gait that kept their legs from parting. The groin muscles in Rebel's legs felt tighter than a guitar E string. Other things hurt, but the muscles in her groin, abdomen and vaginal area were by far the most sore. From the looks of things, her mates felt the same.

On a big board hanging over the entrance to the mess hall were two names, Dutch and Wizzo. Next to each the word Goose was neatly stenciled.

"What's that for?" Lou asked.

"It means they washed out," Cloudy said solemnly.

"And the Goose part?"

"It means she washed them out," Rebel volunteered after a few moments of silence.

"Know either of them?" Holly asked.

"I was in boot camp with Dutch. She was that big Swede. I didn't think she would make it, great reflexes, but she was a little screwy," Cloudy volunteered.

"What happens when you wash out?" Holly asked.

Rebel suddenly realized, she didn't know. For her washing out was unthinkable, but what about for regular recruits? She had no idea.

"I've heard it's bad," Lou said quietly.

"Not so," a strong voice boomed behind them. They all turned to see Corporal Sands standing there smiling.

She was a rail thin woman with flat features and dark skin. As Tucker's right hand she was mostly feared, but none of them had any reason to dislike her, at least not yet. Today she was in her BDUs and a slouch cap. She was an impressively attractive woman for all that and her smile was contagious.

"Wash outs go to bomber school. It's easier in a bomber, you have a bear to handle the weapons."

"Bear?" Rebel asked.

"Yep, a back seater. Weapons officer. Your bear handles all the defensive weapons, you just point your ship at the targ and let your missiles go, then get the hell out of dodge."

"And if you wash out there?" Lou asked.

"Non-combat flight. Shuttles, skiffs, in system or in fleet cargo transfers. And before you ask, if you wash out there they retest you and try you somewhere else. Of course if you are the worst of the worst, you know where you go don't you?"

All four girls looked expectantly at her and she smiled broadly.

"Cooks and bakers school," she roared, clapping Lou and Holly on the back as she breezed past them and into the mess hall.

They looked at each other and, slowly, grins broke out on each of their faces, followed by giggles as they followed the Corporal into the mess hall.

Erica sat in her office, poring over the reports from her instructors. As usual, the majority of wash out recommendations came from Goose. She looked up as the thin blonde entered her office, saluted, and then sat in the chair across from her. Erica returned her salute.

"I know you're a professional…" Erica began.

"But you want me to pass marginal cases," the Goose finished for her.

"Damnit Mindy, this isn't peace time. You can't wash out half a class just because they aren't crack shots!"

"I don't care if they are crack shots when they come to me, but if they aren't when they leave, I'll recommend a forty-four."

"We can't do that."

"So you want me to send out pilots who can't fight?"

"No! I want you to teach them to fight. Why do you have to be such a hard ass?"

"Because pilots who can't shoot are dead men walking. I won't be a party to murder."

Erica massaged her eyes and sighed.

"I know. You're the best gunnery instructor in the fleet, maybe in the Navy. But we have to find some kind of middle ground, Goose. The first two I agreed with, but these next six? You haven't even had them in the simulator yet."

"And I'm not putting them in the simulator. And I'm damn sure not putting them in a fighter!"

She was mad, Erica could see that. She didn't really blame her. Of all her instructors, Mindy took her job the most seriously. Privately, Erica agreed with her stance, but the higher ups didn't.

"How's Leia?" Erica asked, shocking the instructor and diffusing the hot confrontation she could see coming.

"I don't know. Haven't seen her in a couple of days. You know how it is first week or two. Why?"

"Because you're a lot easier to deal with when you're getting laid on a regular basis," Erica said with a ghost of a smile.

Mindy's face showed complete shock. She then blushed and grinned.

"I guess I am."

"Take the evening off. Here's a pass. Go get laid before you drive me back to the bottle."

"I'll take the pass, but I won't get laid. You know the techs are working overtime to have the birds ready when flight training begins."

"Yeah, and I sent Carson a bottle of synthscotch. Leia is off duty tonight."

Mindy was laughing as she took the pass from Erica's hand.

"Doesn't this count as bribery?"

"I prefer to consider it morale building," the tall captain said as she returned to her paper work.

Mindy ambled out of the boss's office and towards the service corridor. She wanted to put the conversation with her superior out of her mind, but knew she couldn't. At least not yet.

She and Erica had gotten off to a rocky start. The Air Boss had been instrumental in blocking several requests for transfer back to a combat unit and Mindy had resented it. Two or three times they had nearly come to blows in the heated arguments that followed each denied request.

That all changed after Mindy met Leia at Bel's place one evening. Mindy had watched her for hours as she and a group of techs celebrated another graduating class. She was a part of the group, but seemingly separate from it. Quiet and shy, with a captivating smile and dancing green eyes, she had returned Mindy's stares with interest.

It took three weeks of asking, cajoling, and finally shameless begging to get a date. On that date, Leia had been beautiful, in a green sheath dress and heels. Mindy had worn her dress uni, with her flight jacket.

The evening had been comfortable, but Leia had remained distant and Mindy had all but given up on an invitation for a nightcap from the shy woman. That changed the instant they were alone in Leia's quarters. From innocent to animal, the redhead had rocked Mindy's world.

She was deeply in love and it changed everything. Twice now, the Boss had saved her from transfer to a combat unit. Mindy missed the atmosphere and camaraderie of a combat post, but she wouldn't give up her post here for anything now. Not as long as Leia was here.

With a sigh, she decided to be less critical of her charges. Erica put her neck out all the time for her people and she deserved some loyalty, even if she was a hard-ass. Mindy would still form forty-four the worst of them, but she decided to back off some, too.

The thin blonde stopped in the middle of the corridor and laughed.

She marveled at her commander yet again. She hadn't even got a hug yet and she was already coming around to the commander's way of thinking. That was the Boss's greatest gift as a leader in the Goose's opinion. She could read people and worked on their better instincts instead of their worst.