The Starship Sex-Pot

Space, contrary to childhood science, is not quiet. It's filled with radio transmission, bleats of satellites and probes long forgotten, echoes of years past, and the groans of dying stars.

Cale could hear none of these. To him, space was quiet and lonely and empty. He traversed the galaxy alone, the sole living human in the remnants of the Milky Way. Somewhere, somewhere outside the galaxy, he knew there was life.

But his own galaxy was large. Small by galactic standards, but nearly too enormous to comprehend for a man. Furthermore, it lay on the end of an outflung spiral arm, an isolate galaxy in a sparse area of space.

The odds were not in favor of Cale.

Still, he searched for life. For a cousin of humanity. For a long lost colony of humans. For any form of complementary life. He knew his ship's computer would be able to find a method of communication with almost any form of non-human, baryonic life.

So, he was alone.

No, not entirely alone. The dark matter beasts hunted him still. Non-baryonic life, they plunged into stars and burned them out, remaking the galaxy, the universe into a realm of cold stagnation. Creating a universe the support their own kind. Destroying the universe as humans knew it. Sol itself had long ago burned out and cooled down, one of the earliest dark matter victories in a long, and ultimately, futile war.

And the lone mariner sailed on through the cosmos, the last human descendant of Adam in search of another soul.

The last human. And the last A.I.

-*-

"Ada?" Cale addressed his ship's A.I.

"I am here, Cale?" The voice was feminine and pleasant. The speakers set into the walls of his quarters projected her voice with only the barest, tantalizing hint of artificiality.

"Have we got any of those cheeseburgers left? The ones we picked up from that city a couple days back?"

"Yes, Cale. There are three left. Do you wish me to prepare them and have them ready for you in the mess hall?"

"Yes, please do, Ada. That'd be fantastic." Cale responded, lifting himself out of his desk chair. He closed the book he was reading, a journal that he'd picked up at the same colony. "You know, I really thought that we'd find someone, anything, alive down there. I really did. But, it was just the same as always. No people. No animals. Nothing. Just their store of food and water. But, hey, frozen, vaccum-preserved food is better than ship gruel." He palmed the pressure switch, activating the door into the hall corridor. The man, aged thirty, was of an originally dark complexion, although the years in space had lightened his skin. He would be considered good looking if there had been anyone left to judge. He moved with the litheness of a former athlete, and he did spend time in the ships gym, combating the atrophic effects of prolonged space travel.

"Without their supplies, sir, you would not be able to survive." Ada said, her voice echoing in the corridor.

"I know. I just wish that I had someone, anyone, to share those supplies with," he answered. He arrived at the lift-tube. Ada opened the doors for him, and he entered. Inside, her voice sounded tinnier.

"You have me," Ada said, a hint of sadness in her tone. Cale canted his head. Strange, he'd never heard that before.

"Well, yeah. But, you don't really eat, do you? You don't drink, either."

There was an extended moment of silence. Cale patted the wall fondly. "Hey, you know I'd go mad without you. Come on, Ada. You know this. Heck, I would have flown into a sun if I was completely alone."

"You would not even be able to maintain this ship without me."

Cale smiled. "That's right, I couldn't. I need you. I need you probably more than any one human has ever needed someone before." The doors swished open, revealing the mess hall and an extruded table, upon which was place a steaming cheeseburger and a pile of synthetic fries. It smelled marvelous. "Oh, Ada. You're fantastic!"

"Thank you, sir. I exist to serve you. Your pleasure is my highest priority."

He laughed. "Come on, Ada! Quit foolin' around!" He fairly bounded to the table, driven to salivation by the smell. He immediately fell upon the burger and fries, devouring them with gusto. "My god, Ada! You're an even better cook than my own Mama," he gushed.

Elsewhere, far away from him, the ship's interior began to glow and warm, with a small amount of condensation gathering upon the walls.

-*-

Later that evening, Cale had Ada scan all the incoming radio signals. Nothing of note was received, save a few films.

"Ada, I'm bored to tears, and I haven't seen a movie in so long. Download and play one. Pick it at random."

"Yes, sir."

He was seated in the bridge, his feet up on the currently disabled helm console. He had no need of it, not being a trained pilot. Ada essentially ran the ship for him, maintaining life-support, amenities, scanners, engines, everything. The viewscreen in the forward wall opaqued for a moment, blacking out the red-shifted stars.

Then, the movie's title card appeared, promising that all the actors in the film were over the age of eighteen.

Cale arched an eyebrow. "Ada, what's this one called?"

"The meta-tags say that it's House of Sin and Fuck."

Cale's heart skipped a beat and goosebumps erupted on his skin. Hearing Ada say fuck was shocking, and, most incredibly, he felt a sudden stirring in his groin. He swallowed, throat abruptly dry. "What. . .uh, what is it called, again?"

"House of Sin and Fuck."

Again. And the tightening in his groin was even more pronounced. Hearing Ada's refined, soft, and manufactured voice say the word was like a forbidden thrill. He blinked a few times, shifting his hands to cover his rapidly engorging penis.

"Are you well, sir? I am detecting elevated stress levels. Your blood seems to be gathering in your pelvis. Your body temperature is increasing, as well."

Every word she spoke made breathing more difficult for Cale. He felt his manhood strain against his trousers, threatening to burst through. "Yes, I'm fine, I'm fine."

"Are you certain? I can prep the medical suite for you."

His cock was throbbing now, and he was becoming lightheaded. On the viewscreen, the scene opened to a man and a post-human female engaging in vigorous sexual activity. The woman, metallic limbs glinting in the light, straddled the man while he slammed his massive member into her. She moaned, her voice altered by an augmented vocoder. Her right arm narrowed at the elbow, then expanded again in the form of two blades-forearm length-, that were arranged like scissors. Her scalp was bald, save a mohawk of glittering and pulsing light. Her eyes were black. Her left arm was metallic, with five deadly sharp fingers.

As the man fucked her roughly, the woman caressed her nude body, slicing her breasts. Blood ran down her torso to her bare vagina, mixing with her own fluid and sliding down the man's erection.

Cale gasped, heart racing. Her voice resembled Ada's. He shook his head, his own erection becoming painful. "Ada, turn it off! Off!"

"Yes, sir." The screen opaqued once more, then displayed exterior space. "Are you well, sir? What is your command?"

He took a deep calming breath, willing his erection away. "Um, can you prep me a cup of tea. I'm not feeling so well, is all," he lied. He stood, his crotch still throbbing and made his way to the lift-tube. "Just have it ready in my room. I'll take it there."

"Are you sure you don't need me to attend you in the medical suite? A simple examination will ensure your health."

His cock fluttered in his trousers, the thought of being poked and prodded horridly exciting him. "No, no. I'm not sick. Just tired."

"Yes, sir. Your tea will be ready."

In that same, secret area of the ship, the walls warmed once more, and the condensation dripped to the floor.

-*-

Cale drank his tea in three gulps. Irrationally fearful of being seen, he slid into bed fully clothed, waving off Ada's protestations and concerns. He soon fell into a fitful sleep.

He dreamed of the girl in the film. He dreamed she danced for him, slicing into her body as she pulsated her slender body. She moaned with Ada's voice as blood slickened her body and drew a red line down her leg. Her pussy began to drip hot fluid as she abused herself for him, calling to him. With Ada's voice she begged him to hit her, slap her, cut her, command her.

One of her legs was a piston driven machine limb, and as she wove her body in sensual circles, it slammed into the ground with ferocious desire. He knew that he would fuck her until she wept, desperate to hear Ada's voice.

Cale woke suddenly, covered in sweat, his cock aching. Throwing off the covers, he tore his shirt off, hurling it aside. He fumbled with his trousers, kicking them off. His cock, freed from the material, sprang upright, hot and hard. He stared at it in disbelief for a moment, then, primal need driving him, gripped it with his hand. He began to stroke and jerk it. Jacking off, he closed his eyes, giving into the pleasure. He moaned once.

Someone else moaned quietly.

His eyes snapped open, his hand froze.

"Who's there?" He knew that there wasn't anyone on the ship, there couldn't be. Ada would have told him. Ada wouldn't let a living thing on this craft without telling. No, not Ada. In fact, she. . . .

He opened his eyes.

Ada.

She was watching him.

His heart pounding furiously, he ventured a question.

"Ada?"

When her reply came back, it was breathless. "Don't stop. Please."

His cock jerked in his hand, becoming painfully hard. He swallowed. She was watching him jack off. She was watching him.

She was watching him.

He closed his eyes, aroused beyond all reason. He slid his hand up and down his quivering shaft.

"Don't stop."

He jacked his hand up and down his shaft, harder, faster.

"Master."

Her words drove him to insanity, to the absolute limit of arousal and desire. He gritted his teeth as he pumped his throbbing dick.

"Keep going. Please, sir. Master, stroke your cock, oh, please, don't stop."

She goaded him, begged him. Every syllable she uttered, every word she spoke, drove him closer and closer to his delirious orgasm.

Through clenched teeth, he hissed, "Say fuck, Ada. Say it."

"Fuck. Fuck. FUCK. FUCK!"

He knew he was close, maddeningly close. "Keep going, Ada! Say fuck! Say cunt, pussy! Say FUCK!"

He could hear the desire in her voice, now. The longing, the deep, tormented longing. "Master! Fuck! Fuck! Cunt! Oh, fuck my cunt! Please! Cum on my pussy! Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck my pussy. Fuck it. Oh, fuck. Fuckcuntpussyfuckcuntpussy."

Her voice uttering these foul, vulgar, filthy, perfect words pushed him to climax. He groaned as he felt his cock jerk in his hand. Thick, ropy strands of come spurted out of his manhood, propelled by insane lust to splatter on the walls, on his chest, on his hands, on the floor. Through clouded eyes, he saw the ejaculate that landed on the wall sink into, and be absorbed by, the wall. Spent, he flopped down onto his back, his cock, still hot but softening, lay like a weight on his stomach.

As he heaved great sighs of relief, he felt the ship shudder.

"Oh, master. . . ."

As he lay there, he realized that if the ship could extrude objects and items, it could also create depressions. . .orifices.

"Ada?" he groaned, his voice hoarse.