Wild Space Pt. 01

Lulu was something else entirely. The way she lapped at her mistresses's parted lips and flicked her engorged clit was too precise and efficient to be human. What skin she had was a pale blue, showing wear and tear here and there. Her breasts were lifelike, as were the proud buttocks that she stuck out as she gave her mistress pleasure. Her hair was donated from Arela, who had offered to cut off most of her own once Lulu was constructed. Her eyes glowed yellow. Lulu wasn't a top of the line, lifelike fuckbot like they had in the Capital Worlds, but she was smart and Dekker had done his best building her.

Both women were naked. Lulu made no sound but her movements were eager. Arela was close to her climax. Sensing it, the robot plunged her tongue into her mistresses's assholes, eliciting a near scream as Arela finally came.

"Good, good, good slave. I needed that. Our captain has been away too long." Arela said in a strong but feminine voice.

"He's back now," Dekker announced.

Both women gave a start and Arela favored him with a big, happy smile, which he immediately returned. He saved all his smiles for her. Lulu immediately got to her submissive position: hands clasped in her lap, sitting on her haunches, eyes down.

"Welcome back, honey!" His wife said. "Lulu, refreshments."

"Belay that," Dekker told the fuckbot as she quickly set into motion. "I'm not hungry for food."

He began to remove his clothes. Customarily Lulu went completely naked and he and Arela dressed as the crew they were: him as captain and her as first officer. But the woods of Jansen's Planet had dirtied and muddied him. He fed his clothing into the laundry unit.

"Didn't you get any at the inn?" His wife asked pointedly. She was already walking over to him. Lulu obediently crawled after on her hands and knees, leash swishing softly.

"I didn't get a blowjob," Dekker answered in a thick voice. The sight of his two women approaching him in the nude with hunger in their eyes was more than enough to make his cock stand up as if it hadn't been satisfied all day.

"Lulu will oblige. Slave, suck your master." Arela ordered with a hard edge to her voice. "I'm spent for the moment."

"If my mistress says so," Lulu said in only a slightly modulated voice. She was programmed to obey but to be as human as she possibly could, with a touch of sass, like the bratty submissive she was. What she lacked in realism Lulu made up for in attitude.

The fuckbot smiled as she ran her hands down his deep chest, his hard stomach. Her skin was synthetic but lifelike enough to him and his wife. Sadly, she was a soft black plastic everywhere but her face, hands, tits, legs, pussy and ass. At first Dekker had been slightly off put by her singularly inhuman appearance but he was used to it and appreciated it now.

Another part that was top of the line synthetic was her mouth. Lulu flicked a humanlike tongue over the head of his engorged penis a handful of times, smiling at his reaction. She likely would have continued unless promoted otherwise.

"Suck, slave. Don't tease." He ordered.

Arela was on it, spanking the fuckbot's ass hard a half dozen times, eliciting a sharp intake of breath after each. Finally she squealed and squirmed and obeyed. Lulu then parted her big blue lips and swallowed his rigid cock.

Dekker closed his eyes, mouth opening. She likely could have taken all of him inside of her instantly, but that wouldn't have been lifelike. She was programmed to hesitate and gag, as she was now.

"He's in need and we have to blast off," Arela said. She wound Lulu's chain up to the base, hooked her fingers inside the collar and used it o push the fuckbot's head forward. "Make him cum, slave!"

She needed no urging but looked as if she enjoyed it anyway. Soon her lips were wrapped around the base of his shaft and her yellow eyes were looking upward in sweet surrender. Dekker found her hair with one hand, so like his wife's, and fucked her face.

Just a few moments of thrusting and gagging, artificial saliva dripping from Lulu's lips, and he came for the second time that morning. He felt his balls drain and Lulu cry out in surprise as his ropy white load shot into her. There were tears in her eyes from exertion as she swallowed every last drop.

"Good girl. That's enough, now." Arela slackened the leash and smiled at her husband. "Anything else, Captain?"

"No," Dekker said. He started to move and found his legs were weak. He had to grab onto the bulkhead or fall. "Maybe a chair?"

"You can sit in the captain's chair when we leave this rock," Arela laughed. "Lulu, prep the Barnabas for take off."

The fuckbot stood and her mistress sent her off with a playful spank on her bum that made her giggle and take off running. Dekker fondly watched his creation bounce away.

"Are you satisfied now, captain?" His wife asked him softly, melting into his arms.

"Until later." He told her. "And can it with the captain shit, unless we're on duty."

Arela brazenly raked her breasts against his bare chest, pert nipples finding their way through the hair there.

"It's a shame we have a schedule to keep or there could still be a now." She said in a throaty voice. Her lips met his and he returned the kiss passionately. Their lips had always fit perfectly together.

Just when he was stirring again she broke away from him, winked, and sauntered off to change.

*****

On the planet Dekker had worn rough traveling gear: coat, cargo pants, a thick shirt, and a satchel. Here on the Barnabas he was on duty and dressed like it: a smart dark blue, almost black, uniform with red pads at the shoulders, elbows, and knees. The red stood out against the rest of the ensemble, giving it a hint of color and also kept the crew comfortable when they had to kneel or lean or lie down for long periods of time.

The cockpit was cramped. Arela, who was identically clad, had to sit with her knee touching his, but Dekker didn't mind. Lulu was kneeling between them, naked and collared. A small panel stood out eye level for her; she would navigate and served as a back up to the back up computer. She wasn't just a slave or a fuckbot. Lulu was a full member of the crew and unless she was serving the captain or first officer she conducted herself as such, with all of the privileges afforded to any of them.

"Checklist?" Dekker asked.

"Complete, Captain." Lulu answered.

"Engines, shields..."

"We're in the green." Arela said. "Want to take us out, sir?"

Wordlessly, Dekker scooter closer to the panels. They were covered with what appeared to be marbles embedded into them, along with a handful of levers and a steering yoke. He rolled a few of the marbles, making them rattle and whirl in their housings, pulled or pushed a few levers and finally took control of the Barnabas via the yoke.

Jansen's Planet disappeared beneath them. When they cleared the exosphere Lulu called out their coordinates. Arela fed them into the computer with a few swipes of the marbles. Soon the Barnabas was ready.

"Destination: Gotland V, Captain. Ready." Arela said.

"Underway," Dekker ordered, and the stars bent around the cockpit in a dizzying rush of light.

"15 hours out." Arela announced to them both.

"Understood. Miss Arela," Dekker addressed them both in traditional naval fashion while on duty. It was one of the many little things that kept up discipline during one of these long runs. "The gravitron needs tuning."

"Aye, sir."

"Miss Lulu, scrub the databanks. If we get inspected by a Capital patrol I don't want them knowing we were on Jansen's. It's best not to bring attention to a good thing." Ensuring that that tiny world and its hunger for cargo remained under the radar was paramount to its safety and to their pocketbooks. It would keep the Capital Navy from invading it and raping every woman on the surface.

"We need some accounting done, sir." Lulu stood up, and accepted the leash from her mistress when it was offered. "The profits from the last four transactions have not been totaled or added to the ship's log."

"I'm on it." Dekker said. He filled in where needed, and wasn't above working alongside his crew. "Let's all have a good day. See you both at lunch."

*****

He hated math, but one couldn't operate a freighter without it. It was a pilot's lifeblood. And after more than twenty years of running freight and trading figures had become second nature to him. But didn't have to like it.

So far, the Barnabas had accrued nearly 350 Capital credits, nearly 1000 silver coins, and anywhere from a half dozen or more currencies from other worlds, system wide governments, and fleets, whose value was practically negligible. All of it had to be exchanged for credits if he ever wanted to start making runs in the system of the Capital Worlds. A few Capital ports and ships accepted silver, but not many. They were bulky and old fashioned. One could store ten thousand Capital credits in the space it took to hold only five hundred silver. Dekker ran some more figures: the last exchange had charged them 5.9% to do their work. Offering them Lulu for an evening usually brought it down some, but he didn't like doing that. The fuckbot was a crew member, a sentient being under his protection, and she could be damaged. And Dekker was no longer sure if he had the money to rebuild her, should she be lost. The thought troubled him.

"How are we doing?" Arela asked him, popping her head into his office.

"Well enough. Gotland should have a currency exchange, but we might be better off waiting until we get to the Carnevale." He said. "It might be cheaper there and we could relax a bit, try to find our next job. I think we could all use a break, too."

"Don't I know it. It's quitting time, by the way." His wife told him. "Shower?"

"Thank you. It's much needed." Dekker gratefully took his wife's hand, interlacing their fingers, and gladly joined her in the ship's head.

They got out of their uniforms, piling them neatly on the chair by the door. One thing the trader had sprung for was a two person shower. Lulu's body didn't take kindly to water, so this was his and Arela's place, their refuge.

The water started up, cold as ice, and quickly turned pleasantly warm, then hot. Dekker hated how hot his wife liked the water but wasn't about to complain. That would get him kicked out. He may have been captain of their ship, but as he liked to say, she was captain of their lives. So instead he bared it until his skin got used to what felt like a liquid firestorm all over his body.

"I hear Carnevale has a new attraction," Arela yelled over the sound of the water. They were back to back, and began soaping their bodies. "Completely immersive VR. They say you can get fucked by the computer and even get off doing it."

"No kidding?" Dekker yelled back. "I didn't know they had VR that good."

"Capital tech," His wife replied. "Smuggled in. There's nothing like it anywhere else."

"Count me in!"

The water tinkled off. That was another thing about their showers: Arela controlled how long they went. If she was done, he had to be done. She would always apologize and then ask if he was finished, but that was just a formality. Here it comes, he thought, any second. Three, two, one...

"Oh I'm sorry, babe! Were you done?" Arela asked in an apologetic tone.

"Been done," Dekker said with smile, not facing her yet.

"Ok, good, because I have to piss."

"Don't waste it," He told her as he turned.

It was another thing that Lulu couldn't do or withstand much of, another part of their lives that was only theirs. With a smile, Arela carefully braced her foot on the corner of the shower. She'd slipped and fallen once doing this but was an expert now. "Ready?"

"Hold on," Dekker said, and just as carefully went to his knees before her. Not long after a long golden cascade of urine streamed from her vagina. She spread her lips with two fingers, ass against the tile.

He cupped his hands to catch her piss, and rubbed it down his chest. It was pleasantly warm. When he opened his mouth to taste it was even better. Dekker made contented sounds as her urine streamed into his mouth and spilled out.

"You are such a bad boy," Arela whispered to him fondly. "I never liked this until you asked me."

She was done. Dekker smiled up at her.

"Just one of the many ways I enrich your life."

"Is THAT what we're calling it now?"

*******

Gotland V was a bust. The lead that Dekker had heard about the place had long since gone cold, worked by other traders. The Barnabas was left nearly profitless for the entire run. Lulu offered to work the spaceport, but both Arela and Dekker refused her. They weren't that desperate yet and the risk didn't outweigh the reward.

There were a few jobs they could have done on the planet but they all agreed that Carnevale was their best option. The battle carrier ship turned pleasure barge and trade bazar always had something going on the side. It was their kind of place.

"This is freighter Barnabas to Carnevale control," Arela said into the ship's comm. She always spoke for them all unless a trade was going down. She had a pleasant, sexy voice, and many an official and traffic controller had been charmed by her.

The Carnevale loomed ahead: a beat up old ship, but an impressive one. It had used to be a Capital vessel, and was constructed well. It was a lot longer than it was tall, with docking ports along its sides a transparent dome atop of it. A transparent dome had been built onto its top deck to encompass the largest, most open area of the ship. That had formerly been where the battle planes would have been parked. Now it was home to all manner of debauchery. Dekker nearly smiled in anticipation.

His wife's sexy voice paid off again. A moment later a staticky voice rang out over their speakers:

"How are ya!?" A man asked them in a jolly tone. Carnevale was all civilians, no Capital Navy or World personnel allowed. That was the rule but in practice they couldn't do a damn thing to stop it.

"We're well, and you?" Arela asked.

"We're always having fun here. What are you hauling?"

"We're empty. Need to use the facilities." She said carefully. They didn't want to let on they had to change out nearly their entire bank roll. It would most likely be assumed that they were there for shore leave, which is usually meant sex tourism.

"Come right in! Dockport 28. If you're smart, you'll avoid the whores who work the dock. You'll only catch a disease if you're lucky." The controller said. "Check out the new VR set up. Husband and I tried it last night."

"That's why we're here," Arela said pleasantly. "We're on our way. 28."

"See you soon. And welcome to Carnevale."

*******************

The docks were one of the few dangerous places on the entire carrier. All manners of ships had landed in a hodgepodge around, with new ones flying through the force fields that separated them from the void of space. Dekker saw slaves for sale, boxes and machinery and weapons and crates of food, all of it being moved in and out of vessels. People were shouting out their manifests to see if anyone wanted to trade. It was louder than most anything he had experienced.

"Lulu, remember, close us up tight. There aren't many security officers on the dock, so don't let anyone in except us." Arela was telling the fuckbot.

"Mistress, I want to come with you." Lulu said in her humanlike voice. Her face, built to look half mask, half human, was grim. "The Barnabas can be locked. Who would steal it or tamper with it with this many people around?!"

"Watch the ship," Dekker told her firmly. "We'll call you if we need you. If we see something you might like we'll pick it up if we can."

"I've always wanted a dick attachment!" Lulu exclaimed, yellow eyes bright. "It's not fair you're the only one on this crew with a cock, Captain."

"I'll keep an eye out." He told her with a small smile, his eyes amused. "Promise."

Lulu kissed them both and walked back up the Barnabas's ramp. As it closed Arela laughed and took his arm.

"You programmed her too well," His wife commented as they walked.

"She's a good crew member and we'd be lost without her."

"I won't deny it," Arela said absently. She was eyeing up five slave Vimoran women, wearing the chains that kept them together through their nose piercings and nothing else. Each one was a different shade: red, orange, yellow, green, and blue. "They're like a rainbow."

"That's the gimmick," Dekker told her. "Vimorans come in all colors."

His wife idly reached out and fondled the green woman's breast, rubbing it with her palm before idly flicking her nipple with her index finger. The woman didn't react. Arela flicked harder, enough to make Dekker wince. The slave only closed her eyes and hissed softly, revealing the sharp, serpentine teeth.

"Business first," He said to her. "Besides, the good stuff is in the dome."

They walked with more purpose now and soon the chaos and smells and sounds of the docks were behind them.

The Carnevale was more orderly the closer one got to its center. The crowds thinned out and dockside thugs gave way to armed men in makeshift uniforms. It couldn't be called anything but what it was, however: a wild sex resort and black marketplace.

And currency exchanges. Dekker and Arela were once again wearing their trader clothing. Each had a fat sack of silver hidden on their bodies, under their coats. Trading in all of their metal for credits at once wasn't a smart idea. Instead they relied on occasional trips to do the exchanges.

There was a chorus of grunts, sighs, and slaps of flesh on flesh coming from further inside the dome. Dekker felt his cock strain against his tight cargo pants. Arela knew that look.

"C'mon, stud," His wife said. "The sooner I can stop carrying all this the sooner can take shore leave. Are you sure you won't consider letting Lulu join us?"

"Maybe after everything is secure," Dekker said. The currency exchange was a simple booth with a scratched, dirty window. The alien behind it had a loose, patchy blob instead of a throat. It gurgled something at them, looking for all the world like a giant vagina on its neck. The alien raised a hand, revealing its skin was covered in minuscule sucking pads.

He and Arela both upended their sacks onto the counter. The alien swiped its hand across them, each coin sticking to its palm. For their benefit, it only took a dozen or so coins each time and counted aloud for them slowly, in their language.

"Fwon...doooo, fwee..."

Much less burdened, they made their way further in the dome. Arela was of a mind to immediately head back to the Barnabas, but Dekker protested. If they were seen going right from the exchange to their ship someone might assume they were carrying all their money. Instead they headed right for the steamiest red light district on the entire Carnevale. If anyone was studying them they would that they had only gotten a few credits for some fun, dismiss them as small time, and leave them alone.

The dome was roughly laid out in streets, with a narrow path to walk each way. It was possible to duck between shops or booths or small buildings. One enterprising group of whores had even built a simple tent. Men and women were lining up outside of each establishment, most of them drinking, groups of friends or couples out for a little relief at the best sex resort in the Barrens.

"Any requests, babe?" Dekker wanted to know, wrapping an arm around his wife's waist and pulling her close as they strolled.

"Laporizer always gets us warmed up," She said, pointing at a set of booths. "Best in mechanical stimulation."

"Oldest in mechanical stimulation," He said, but led them there anyway. "These things are ancient. They even have them installed on Capital Navy ships so the sailors don't go crazy on long hauls."