tagNonConsent/ReluctanceCaptured in Space!

Captured in Space!


Val woke up feeling cold and horny. She couldn't remember the details of her dream, but it had been sexy, and her crotch was dripping wet. That had been happening more, of late. Shaking off the haze of sleep and arousal, she thumbed the intercom. "What?"

"Got a ship hailing us, Cap. It's military, looks like UNSDF. They're asking to speak with the captain."

"Be right up." Val slipped off her soaked panties, then decided against putting on a fresh pair. She had every intention of continuing where the dream had left off once she dealt with whatever it was the UNSDF wanted. They may be pains in the ass, but at least they were usually brief.

Val pulled her utility jumpsuit over her legs, making sure not to tangle her pubes in the zipper as she pulled it from the crotch up. She could feel the moistness of her crotch against the rough fabric of the jumpsuit, but luckily the jumpsuit was grimy enough that it would not be visible. The jumpsuit was a little short around the limbs and not particularly comfortable, but it helped her fit in with her crew.

After zipping up, Val gathered her hand back into a ponytail. In the small mirror above the stainless steel sink, her cheeks were still slightly flushed. Luckily, splashing some cold water on her face made her seem less aroused than she felt.

God, she needed to get laid. She had been a sheltered girl growing up on the Olympus orbital base, so she had been a virgin when her father had given her a freighter to run, but that hadn't lasted long. She lost her virginity to her first mate, another Orbital, on her first payday. When you're piloting a small metal can through the vast expanse of vacuum with a bunch of people for weeks on end, stodgy upper-middle-class repressed sexuality starts to seem silly. Still, they had both been drunk, and had agreed that it was a bad idea afterwards. When he was promoted to captain a freighter of his own, that was the end of that.

That had been two years ago. She hadn't gotten laid since then. It wasn't that she was a prude. She'd definitely fantasized about the more attractive men in her crew before. But there was a pretty strong taboo (for good reason) against sexual relations between crew members of different rank. Since there was only one captain per freighter, this meant a lot of lonely nights in her bunk with only her fingers and a bottle of Mare Nectaris wine for company. Lately, with the big shipment of perishable luxury foods she was hauling, her entire energy had been devoted to keeping inventory and making sure they didn't spoil.

Val yawned, and felt the knots of fatigue around her body. She checked herself in the small mirror again, and pushed a stray strand of dark hair out of her eyes. Her appearance would never have passed muster back home, but it was acceptable for a ship captain.

Val bumped her head against the bulkhead coming out of her quarters and cursed her carelessness. Having grown up in the low gravity of an orbital base, she had always towered over most people. This was never a problem on wealthy Olympus, where corridors were broad and spacious. In an industry where square footage was at a premium, wide corridors were the ultimate display of ostentatiousness. Elsewhere, as she had learned in the past couple of years, she was forever bumping into bulkheads and low ceilings.

Her pilot was lounging back in the comm seat on the bridge when she strode in. "Bring the UNSDF on, Brett." He nodded and vacated the seat. A grizzled-looking meathead of a man winked into existence on the screen. Every inch of him screamed 'military'.

"UNSDF corvette Basilisk, this is Captain Valerie Saroyan of the Vaspurkan speaking. How may we help you?"

There was a pause. "They let teenagers captain ships now?"

Val felt annoyance flare up inside her. She had agreed to take this job so that people would stop treating her like a teenager. So much for that plan. "I'm twenty-two. What do you want?"

"Please transmit your cargo and crew manifest for inspection." A pause before the intercom crackled again. "This is just a routine check. Nothing to worry about. M'am."

So they had woken her up from her very torrid dream for something they could have pulled directly from the ship computer. "Typical military jagoffs," she muttered under her breath, punching the transmit button harder than was needed.

Aloud, she said, "If there's anything else I can do for you boys, please let me know." She winced as she said it. She had meant it as a sarcastic parting shot, but instead it came out a sultry drawl. Dammit, Val. Pull yourself together. A veteran captain would not let her sexual frustration get in the way of her job. She cleared her throat and thumbed the intercom again, then thought better of it. Trying to qualify it would make the situation even more awkward than it already was.

The corvette captain's lip curled in contempt. He glanced at a datapad someone handed him and made a few signals to his subordinates off-screen. After a few seconds he turned back to the screen. "Vaspurkan, stand by for docking."

Beside her, Brett cleared his throat uneasily. "Captain, uh, you want to see this."

Val went over to the side workstation Brett was occupying. He had a display open. The window said "Victory flyover at Deimos: SDF Austerlitz, Basilisk, Qianlong", and showed a recent newsreel of three imposing battleships looming over Mars' asymmetrical moonlet.

Val felt a sudden pang of uneasiness. "The Basilisk is not a corvette."

"No." Brett shook his head. "I knew there was something fishy about this."

"Can we hightail it out of here?"

"Not now, we can't. The engines are powered down. They'd blast us to stardust before the engines even warm up."

Before Val could think of a plan, a thump and hiss announced that the corvette that wasn't Basilisk had docked onto her ship. Brett had produced a wrench from under his workstation, but Val shot him a look and shook her head. "Alert the rest of the crew, then follow me."

Licking her lips in apprehension, Val made her way down into the crew docking bay. Before Brett caught up with her, she tugged the switchblade from inside her boot and slid it in a thigh pocket, where it could quickly be reached in a scuffle. It probably wouldn't do much good against pirates with any sort of firearms, but the shape of it pressed against her thigh made her feel braver.

When they reached the crew docking bay, there was a burly man in combat armor on the other side of the bay hatch. He tapped impatiently at the glass of the bay hatch when he saw them. Throwing Brett a wordless glance, she spun the hydraulic hand wheel on the hatch and it opened with a faint hiss. A dozen men with different assault rifles and combat armor streamed through the hatch. Their military precision worried Val. They may not be who they said they were, but they were certainly professionals.

The man who strode in last was an imposing man, towering over the rest by at least half a head. Though only slightly taller than her, he stocky Earth-bred build meant that he looked like he would have no trouble breaking Val in half with his bare hands. His bearing clearly indicated that he was the ranking officer. He nodded at the men on his left, who stomped off into her ship, before turning his attention on her. "Are you Captain Saroyan?"

Val eyed him suspiciously. So he wanted to carry on the charade. That was fine by Val. With care, she and the Vaspurkan might even get out of this in one piece. "I am she." She shook his proffered hand.

"I am Captain Laurence Parry, commander of the Basilisk."

"I'm sure you are aware, Captain Parry," Val said, looking him straight in his blue eyes, "that the Vaspurkan is registered to Saroyan Mercantile at Olympus, and comes under the jurisdiction and protection of the United Nations."

Captain Parry stepped closer to Val. Behind her she could feel Brett suck in a tense breath. "That's what your electronic license said."

Val licked her lips. Time to try a different tack. "Saroyan Mercantile insures all active freighters and their cargo. Should you decide to... requisition our cargo, my crew will not resist in any way." There is no need for violence. It was on the tip of her tongue, but she held back at the last moment.

The captain gestured at his men, and three of them stepped forward. "Your man here will show us to the cargo hold. I assume a freighter this size has a separate cargo bay."

Brett glanced over at her with a furrowed brow. She nodded at him. "Do as Captain Parry says." Don't do anything stupid, she wanted to add. His curt nod said he understood.

As the grunts practically frogmarched Brett out of the bay, the captain said, "You're quite astute for a spoiled little trust fund bitch."

Val felt her face reddening. "I'm not-"

"What? You're telling me that you aren't related to the owners of Saroyan Mercantile? That you don't have a trust fund and rich parents back home? That they didn't pull strings to get you this appointment, Miss Saroyan?"

"Fuck you."

"I'd like that, yes."

The knot in Val's stomach tightened. She couldn't say for sure if it was from anger, fear or something else. "That wasn't what I- you're mocking me."

The grunts behind the captain snickered.

Val jumped as a few sudden sharp snaps of gunfire reverberated through the ship. "That would be your crew," Parry said, his piercing eyes never leaving hers, "resisting arrest."

An intercom crackled, and the captain thumbed on one of the external hull monitors on a control panel. Val's heart skipped a beat as she saw the unmistakably human-shaped silhouettes drift past in the inky dark of vacuum. "You fuck," Val hissed, barely keeping the tremble out of her voice. "You killed them." The hell with this. In a split second Val made up her mind that, if she was to die, she was going to at least take one of the fuckers with her. When the captain turned away slightly to look at the control panel, she lifted the switchblade out of her thigh pocket, flicked it open, and slammed it down into the base of his exposed neck in one fluid motion. The world went black as she pulled the switchblade back out for a second strike.


Val awoke feeling sore all over.

Opening her eyes, Val realized that she was sprawled on the floor of a living compartment. Its furnishings were spartan, but the size of the compartment spoke volumes about the importance of its occupant. It wasn't large by objective standards, but was practically a penthouse suite for a spaceship. And from the faint but unmistakable thrum of engines and life support, she was definitely on a ship. She hadn't been spaced after all.

When she tried to move her arms, Val discovered that her hands were cuffed to a pipe above her. Pulling on the pipe only served to cut deeper welts into her wrists, and she slumped back onto the floor, winded.

There was a strangely oppressive feel to the atmosphere. It took Val a moment to recognize it as high gravity. She had never been to Earth, or indeed lived in a place that ran on more than .6 G. Most orbital stations rotated to .5.

"Fuck," she muttered to herself. "Fuck, fuck."

As she was still considering what to do, the hatch opened and Captain Parry stepped through it. He had shed his battle armor, and was wearing casual fatigues that somehow made him look even more imposing. Through her fear she could not help but notice the pecs straining through his sleeveless fatigues. Broad-shouldered men had always made her weak in the knees. She pushed the shameful thought to the back of her mind, and told herself that her quickening heartbeat was due entirely to panic, and nothing else.

"Hello, captain," he said with a crooked smile when he saw that she was awake. "Well, captains have ships, and since your ship has mysteriously vanished, I don't suppose it'd be appropriate to call you 'captain'."

Bastard. Val ignored the pit in her stomach and took a conciliatory tone. "Look, you know my family is wealthy. You could ransom me. My parents will pay you a fortune for me."

Parry chuckled. "I could... but then I'd spend the next decade hiding and running while bounty hunters take potshots at me."

"That won't happen! I- I promise!"

He shook his head. "I don't think so."

Val felt her heart sink to her stomach. Not a stupid pirate then. She should have known it wouldn't work, but she had to try.

"What the fuck do you want from me?" Her mouth was dry with fear, but she wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of hearing her beg.

"You're a clever girl." He crouched down in front of Val, just beyond biting range. His hand went to the zipper of her jumpsuit and started pulling it down, past her breasts, and smirked when he saw that Val had no bra beneath her jumpsuit. He stopped at her belly button, teasing the depression it lightly with a finger, and Val suppressed a shiver. "I think you know."

"Fuck off." Val shot her foot out at him, but she was unused to the gravity and the kick was feeble.

Parry laughed. "You must have felt the difference in the gravity by now. As you may have guessed, this ship runs on one gee. But with you I'm not taking any chances."

The pirate captain took something out of a holster and pointed it at her. Val's eyes widened as she recognized the device. It was called a PAX, a relatively new device originally developed for law enforcement. But around the docks Val had heard it referred to more often by its common nickname: the 'rape ray'. On higher settings a blast could render a victim instantly unconscious, but on the lowest it merely-

"Paralyzes you, but leaves you fully conscious. Science is a wonder, isn't it? But I see you know what this is." Parry cupper her chin in his hand and tilted her head up to look straight into her eyes. To her horror, when she tried to turn away she found that she could not.

"I like you, Valerie. Can I call you Valerie? You're feisty. But that just makes breaking you so much more entertaining."

Her biting retort came out a furious but wordless groan as she could not move her mouth more than fractionally.

Parry laughed and reached for her restraints, uncuffing her. Her arms slumped bonelessly down onto the floor, and Val could only glare at him as he carried her over to his bunk bed.

Val tried desperately to move her limbs, to struggle even a little bit, but though she could feel her body, it was as though she had been physically restrained. She could only suck in a sharp breath in apprehension as Parry clambered onto the bunk bed, his large Earther frame looming over her.

He unzipped her jumpsuit the rest of the way down, revealing her dark thatch of pubic hair. "No panties? Naughty girl." Absurdly, Val felt a stab of irritation at being spoken down to. The youngest sibling in a family of six, she had been babied all her life. She'd hoped that captaining a vessel through the inky vacuum of space would- Her train of thought was interrupted by a sudden involuntary shiver of electric pleasure when Parry reached down her jumpsuit to fondle her sensitive slit, his fingers brushing against her clit on the upstroke.

He's good, Val realized with dismay. All her arousal from her interrupted wet dream flooded back with a vengeance, and she felt a rush of wetness in her crotch. The rape ray, apparently, did not numb sensation. He smirked when he felt her moisture, and began stroking in such a way that his fingers caressed around her clit but denied her the pleasure of directly stimulating the swollen nub.

After a few minutes of teasing Parry removed his hand from her crotch, and her first instinct was to buck her hips upwards. Ashamed that her captor and soon-to-be rapist was making her horny, she was momentarily thankful that she was paralyzed.

He did not, however, fail to notice that Val's eyes trailed his fingers hungrily, and he laughed. "You're enjoying this, I see. I knew you were a bitch in heat the moment I heard you speak."

Val felt a blush heating her cheeks. She groaned in protest, though at that point she wasn't quite sure what she was protesting.

With a knowing smile, the Earther pirate peeled the unzipped jumpsuit off her shoulders with deliberate slowness, savoring the mounting panic in her eyes as her breasts were fully exposed. He dipped his head down to her chest, and Val felt her stomach tighten with desire as his wet mouth engulfed her areola. His sandpaper tongue slid over and around her hard nipple, sending exquisite pleasure shooting through her paralyzed body, while his hand cupped her other breast, flicking over the nipple with his thumb.

Val fought the moan rising in her throat, but it slipped out, despite her best efforts. Even to her ears it sounded wanton and inviting.

"Let me help you out," Parry said with a chuckle, a twinkle of mischief in his eye. He pulled the rest of her jumpsuit off, then closed his meaty hand over hers, moving it like a marionette to her crotch and positioning it so that the first knuckle of her middle finger slid into her pussy. Then he only had to push the back of her hand slightly and her finger moved deeper into her pussy, lubricated by her the juices of her arousal. The slow friction of her own palm on her inflamed clit sent stabs of pleasure through her entire body, the sensation all the more intense for not being able to move.

Tears filled Val's eyes as she realized, humiliated, that she was getting off on being raped with her own hand. She felt her clit pulse with a faint heartbeat against her palm, mirroring the helpless pounding in her chest.

While she was preoccupied with her own hand, Parry had undressed, shedding his pants and tee with surprising agility, even his bulk. Val's eyes widened when she saw his erect cock, jutting out aggressively from his crotch. She had seen her share of Earther porn, but seeing the length and girth of one in person, up close, was a revelation.

"You like what you see. I can tell," he said smugly. "I've always wanted to fuck an Orbital cunt. So tall, so haughty. So cold." He gathered her wrists in one large hand and drew her arms up above her head, her fingers slipping out of her slippery snatch with little friction. Val flinched inwardly when a droplet of her pussy juices landed on her cheek.

"But women are women." He pushed her legs apart with his knees and positioned the head of his cock between the folds of her labia, teasing her wet pussy with gentle prods. With her raised arms hanging slackly over her head, Val glared daggers at him through tear-blurred vision. Just do it already, you fucking coward.

Smirking, the pirate obliged, his thick cock slid in without much resistance until her pussy bottomed out. Without giving her a chance to adjust to the feeling of his girth in her, he began moving his hips, his enthusiastic thrusting lubricated by the juices of her arousal. His hands mauled her pert breasts, rolling and pinching her nipples between his thumb and forefinger and sending flashes of mingled pain and pleasure darting through her slack body.

Her pussy clenched reflexively around his huge shaft in panic when a meaty hand clamped down over her throat, partially restricting her airflow. This seemed to stoke his animal passion, and his pistoning took on a more savage nature. His vigorous pumping shook her entire small frame, causing her head to loll to one side, drool leaking out the corner of her mouth. It was just beginning to stain the rough linen bedsheet when a hand on her chin yanked her face upright again to look at the face of her rapist. Try as she did she could not move her face even fractionally, and she was powerless to resist as his lips engulfed hers in a rough kiss, his tongue exploring her mouth forcefully.

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