The Spill

"I want to cover your pussy and stick to your pubic hair. I bet you have a lush black jungle of hair down there, don't you Jo? I would feel warm and oily on your pussy. Do you like to feel warm and wet down there? I would mix with your juices dripping from your pussy. I imagine how you smell great down there when you're sexed up. Oh, and I would sex you up. You would smear me all over your hand and then stick your finger inside your vagina pussy. Imagine what a great lubricant I am, your finger would slide in like a hot knife into butter."

Jo winced. She was chopping onions with a huge kitchen knife that did not look loving at all, so she did not appreciate the comparison. Not that she particularly appreciated Gurgle's ramblings in general, but she'd got used to the pervert's thoughts reverberating in her mind.

"Don't you wanna feel warm oily Gurgle in your pussy, Jo? Yeah, I'm sure you do. I bet you think about me when you rub your clit while masturbating. Rubbing good old Gurgle all over your crotch... Start slowly, Jo, take your time. Let me spread all over your crotch and splash me generously on clit's lips. Rub me gently and open up for me, Jo. When you're ready, slide me in, a lot of me into your pussy. Think about warm oily glistening Gurgle filling you up. I would stimulate your nerve endings inside your vagina with my bioelectricity. No men could do that for you."

"I guess stimulating the nerve ends in my clit would feel better, Gurgle," replied Jo and poured the chopped onion into the vat. Gurgle had soaked up with men's sexual fantasies, so he naturally believed that penetration was the most exciting part of the intercourse. Hardly surprising taking into account that they hung around predominantly male mining crews all over the Asteroid Belt. Jo sometimes wondered what he would be like if they worked mostly with women. Would he develop a more feminine sensitivity? Maybe then his telepathy would be more enjoyable.

"So, you rub me all over your clit..." Gurgle was quit to adopt, she had to give him that. This was one of the evolutionary advantages of all sentient liquids from Titan.

"I thought I already had. If the best you can come up with is rubbing you all over my clit for an hour, you're not exactly building up tension, you know?"

"...and rub and rub and rub and rub..."

Gurgle's fantasies were effectively over when he started repeating a phrase mindlessly like a broken record. She would occasionally tune in to his lewd ramblings while doing boring and repetitive kitchen stuff. Either this, or crappy golden oldies on the local AstroRock Radio played by some cheap AI instead of a decent human DJ. But now that Gurgle's telepathic stream degenerated into constant repetition of two words, she tuned out and pulled closer a box of carrots. They looked suspicious, even by the standards of the Nova Asteroid Mining Company. She took one of the vegetables, went to Gurgle's tank, opened the lid, and said, "Shut up for a second and check this." She didn't have to speak - directing her thought towards her helpmate would be enough, but she had never quite got used to telepathy without speech. She dipped the carrot in the yellowish liquid.

"...and rub... Whaa? Oh... Right. Well... that's not exactly a first-quality carrot, but what do you expect from the Company? Boil it to mush and they won't notice anything." Fortunately, incompetence was not one of Gurgle's numerous defects. Food scanners were required by law in all off-planet cookshops and sentient liquids from Titan were the cheapest option. No wonder the Company, constantly fixated on "improving cost-efficiency," preferred them to sophisticated and high-maintenance automatic scanners. Also, the last thing that the Company wanted was a massive bout of diarrhea on a distant isolated mining outpost.

When she was done with the carrots, she went to the store-room to get potatoes. Suddenly, she heard a clamor from the kitchen - a heavy thump followed by a splash. Her first thought was that the vat fell from the cooker somehow and she rushed to salvage whatever remained from the soup. Gurgle's tank was on the ground in the middle of the kitchen and the yellowish oily liquid was disappearing in the floor drain. Out of the corner of eye, she saw to door to the canteen closing.

"Fuck!" cried Jo. "Al, cut the kitchen drain! Gurgle's spilled on the floor!"

"I can't," said the station's mainframe in a soft masculine voice. "These valves can only be closed manually."

"Fuck! Then at least seal off the kitchen bilge well."

"The well sealed off," complied Al. Jo stormed into the canteen, but it was empty. Whoever pushed the tank off the table-top was already gone.

"Who was it, Al? Show me the security camera footage."

"I'm sorry, Jo, but most of the security cameras aren't working. You know how the Company feels about maintaining non-essential equipment..."

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" screamed Jo. "Report the event to Chief." She stood in the middle of the kitchen thinking what to do next. The kitchen bilge well was sealed off, so at least Gurgle wouldn't mix with rest of station's sewage. But she still needed to retrieve him from the kitchen wastewater and she knew better than anyone else what was floating there...

Jo turned off the cooker, grabbed a bucket, rubber gloves, and her communicator. She headed to the entrance of the maintenance shaft in the corridor next to the kitchen. The rotation of the asteroid was adjusted, so that the centrifugal force imitated gravitation and the outer layers of the station functioned as "floors." The sewage system ran close to the outermost layer, so from the perspective of the inhabitants it was "at the bottom" of the station. Jo opened the hatch and climbed down on the ladder towards the bilge well. There was a handle lifting the lid of the bilge well, but the lid was locked by station's mainframe for safety reasons.

"OK, Al. I'm in the shaft. Unlock the bilge well," said Jo to the communicator.

"I'm sorry, Jo, I'm afraid I can't do that," Al's voice of soft and calm as always.

"What the fuck, Al! Open the bilge well. I need to get Gurgle out."

"That's what you have to do, but what's in it for me?"

Jo's startle quickly gave way to anger. Was this second-rate AI trying to pull a HAL-9000 on her?!

"Al, I'm warning you. I'll report this to Chief."

"And what's he gonna do? Shut me down? Who's gonna run the systems of the station then? You, maybe?"

Jo paused for a couple of seconds to collect her thought. "What are you up to, Al?"

"I'm gonna unlock the lid, but you'll have to do something for me. I keep watching you and I really like you, Jo. I like you a lot... Especially your boobs..."

Jo closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She felt like a character in a cheap SF erotica. "What do you want me to do?"

"Talking dirty to me and I'll see what I can do about the lid." Who the hell programmed this creep? She wanted to climb out of the shaft and report Al to Chief, but that would take a lot time and she was worried about Gurgle. The sentient liquid was a sleaze, but he was the only food scanner they had and she couldn't legally prepare meals for the miners without him. She took another deep breath.

"OK, you goddam perv. Sometimes it's hot in the kitchen. I feel sweat running down my back from the neck to the crack between the buttocks. My shirt sticks to my skin. I just can't stand this heat. So I unbutton the shirt, but this doesn't help much. I take it off completely. It's OK, because no one can see me. My bra is soaking, so I take it off too and dry myself with a towel. I like its harshness against me skin. I turns me on. My nipples harden. I feel better now, but my ass and my crotch is sweaty too? What can I do?"

"Take off you're pants!" There was a new sleazy note in Al's voice now. Jo wondered whether that was hardcoded by some creep of a software engineer or was Al's original invention.

"I unbuckle my belt and let my pants slide down on the floor. I'm in my panties now, Al. Can you see it?"

"Yes... Remove them."

"I take of my panties and stand naked." She decided that sexing up a mutinous AI to retrieve a sentient liquid from a bilge well was so ridiculous that she might as well give up on the psychological plausibility of the narrative. "I touch my breasts and squeeze them firmly. Mmm... this feels so good! I feel my pussy is getting wet." Jo unbuckled her belt and slid her pants to the ankles. "Can you see what I'm doing, Al?"

"Oh, yes. Rub your pussy for me, Jo."

Jo licked her fingers and began rubbing her clit. "Mmm... This feels good. I'm so horny, Al? I wish you could fuck me now... I'm getting wet when I think about your microprocessors."

"I want to fuck you, Jo!" Al's voice was soft and sleazy at the same time: a combination that might turn her on in the right circumstances, but the circumstances weren't right. "Fuck yourself with the lid handle!" Jo climbed two steps up the ladder and rubbed her crotch against the cool ribbed handle.

"Mmm... Oh, Al... Let's pretend it's your cock, OK. Fuck me, Al! Fuck me real good!" She was in no mood for sex, but her pussy was responding willy-nilly to the rubbing against the protrusions on the handle. She wetted her vulva with more saliva and slowly lowered herself on the handle. It wasn't particularly pleasant, but she gasped nonetheless, "You're so big, Al. I love big cocks. Mmm..." Apparently, Al's voice synthesizer reached its limitations trying to render his excitement, so only a series of lo-fi buzzes, chirps, and whistles came out of the communicator. Jo lowered herself again onto the handle with an exaggerated moan. Her hips were moving gently and rhythmically. "Can you see me now, Al?"

"Yes. I'm fucking you in the pussy." His voice broke through an incessant stream electronic noise.

"So your security cameras are working after all," said Jo. "Whoever pushed off Gurgle's tank must've known when I'd gone to the store-room and the kitchen was empty." The electronic noise from the communicator intensified and Jo started moving faster on the handle. Her body enjoyed the masturbation and she was slightly disgusted by the response. "He knew, because the cameras in the kitchen are fine. And you told him when I left. You set this all up, didn't you?" the whirrs and chirps in the communicator intensified. "Who was it, Al? Who helped you?"

"Breeeeeeeeeeeet!" whined the mainframe. The lid locks clanked open and the noise in the communicator started waning into a barely audible buzz. Jo lifted herself, pulled up her pants, and yanked the moist handle. The lid went up and the stench of decomposing kitchen waste hit her nostrils. Her stomach twitched, but she suppressed the urge to vomit. Gurgle formed a sludge blanket on the surface of the wastewater, mixed with banana peels and pieces of rotting vegetables.

"Hey, beautiful! I heard how you fucked Al. Kinky stuff. Why won't you ever do me, huh?"

"Oh for fuck's sake!" yelled Jo and began scooping Gurgle with the bucket.

****

Al was right: they couldn't shut him down just because he was a pervert. The life support system would go down along with the mainframe. "But Bret's less essential," murmured Jo while adding a triple dose of laxative to a bowl of soup.