4: Pirate Captain

Captain’s Private Journal August 17, 2170

Dossier ID: Captain Amy Shurinko Hair: Black Eyes: Blue Height: 183 cm Mass: 63 kg Age: 36 Birth Date: 2135.07.17

I’ve added the navigational logs to this record, but that’s for my own information later. I’m afraid things have been crazy these past few days, and we may need to look into another line of business. That and I think I may be smitten. Roxy is mad, even though she knows I’d never leave her or the ship. That, or she’s jealous of the time I’ve gotten with Helen. That’s fixable, at least.

Six days ago we were on Geneforge station, doing a bit of recon, and looking for solid work. I was at the Seven Sisters when the woman I call Helen — for reasons that will become obvious — walked in. It was day shift, and she was dressed like a little corp-girl up for a night out. She was out of place: dressed completely wrong, and way too beautiful for a dive like that.

For that matter, she was way too beautiful for the club outfit she was wearing. The red heels — too high for anywhere with more gravity than a station — were shiny, trashy fuck-me pumps. They were designer and expensive, and I suppose that made them okay for work. If you ask me, anything with a heel that long just says “lay me down and grab hold. My thoughts weren’t pure, that’s certain; I wanted to get her out of those clothes and pull her down to my crotch and make her lick me.

Judging by how quiet the bar got when she walked in I wasn’t the only one thinking such thoughts.

But I was the one she walked up to.

I just sat there as she slinked towards me. I sipped my drink, and tried to keep my eyes on her face. Just because I’m a woman doesn’t mean I don’t like to look. I prefer the ladies, after all. My crew is all female for a reason — more than one.

She moved like a dancer, or someone who had studied martial arts for years. The low-G skirt and top drifted around — still covering everything, much to everyone’s dismay — enticing the eye and making my gaze wander. She was round and full and sexy, her hair cascaded down her back, unkempt and wavy. She had a just-fucked look about her, the kind models and vid-stars try to create, but with her it was just a natural thing. Her breasts bounced a little as she moved; I could tell she wasn’t wearing a bra.

“Captain Shurinko?” she asked when she arrived at my table. I nodded, and took another sip of my beer. I gestured for her to sit down, and she slid into my booth. I glared around the bar, and most people went back to what they were doing. Someone kicked the music player, and the bar went back to loud and lively.

As the girl slid into my booth she artfully and “accidentally” flashed me her tits. I knew my night was looking up, after all my reputation is well known in places like the Seven Sisters. She didn’t have much on her: skirt, shoes, top. Maybe some panties, but I was betting not. She had a small bag, maybe 400cc’s that was bulging a bit, but that wasn’t odd, either.

The other thing that struck me was how young she looked. She couldn’t be more than eighteen, nineteen tops. She didn’t move like a teenager, but maybe they were growing them young these days. Maybe she wasn’t as innocent as she looked, either. She had come down to the docks, and to a place like the Seven Sisters. “I have a proposition for you,” she said, leaning close to me so that I could hear her. I turned on the sound squelchers and the noise from the bar went away — and no one would be able to hear what we had to say either.

“A proposition?” I said. There was probably a bit too much leer in it, but she didn’t seem to care.

“Yes.” Her voice was like smooth cream and chocolate. “I need off station.”

I knew where it was going, but some part of my hesitated. The part that wanted her too much. I was getting wet listening to her, and I knew what I wanted, but you don’t become a successful pirate captain without some caution. You can’t always listen to your gonads, you’ll get keelhauled that way. “So buy a ticket, kid. Ladies’ Luck doesn’t take passengers.”

“Tickets require things I don’t have,” she said. “Money. Proper identification. That sort of thing.”

“You need smuggled off the station, and don’t have money?” The rational part of me was waving red flags and jumping up and down. I acted calm, nursing my drink. The irrational part of me was slick and hard from nips to clit.

“I have other things to offer.” She jiggled then and the rational part of me fuzzed out and I was all lust and agony, wanting her. “Seven Sisters has rooms. I only need an hour.” The rooms were mainly for a shower and a real bed, in a room you don’t have to share. They rented by the hour, and that meant they were used for more than just a nap.

“An hour?” I said. My throat was parched. My hands gripped the strong clear plastic of my mug. “You think that’s enough for passage anywhere?”

“No,” she said. “But it’ll more than pay for the room.” She looked me in the eyes, and I matched her gaze.

I wanted her, that was true. But more than that, I didn’t just want sex. I wanted to possess her, even for a few minutes. She must have seen that, because she shifted in her seat. Her arrogance and certainty slid away; her expression became tentative. Her eyes were still powerful, though. She was strong deep inside.

“Yours for an hour,” she said. “As a trial for the passage.”

How could I lose? I nodded, and waved a waitress over. I told her what I wanted, thumbed the bill, and she slipped a room key out of her apron. She looked at us enviously, and smiled a knowing grin. I downed the rest of my beer, and I led Helen to our room. ~ o ~

The room was small: a full sized bed, with no more than a half meter of space on one side. There was a little space to stand at the foot to open the sliding door that hides the shower and bathroom facilities. There’s a light built into the headboard, and a harsh overhead that reflected off the too-white walls. I turned it off as I stepped in and sat on the bed to activate the headboard light.

She stepped in behind me, falling her knees next to the bed; the door swooshed shut behind her. She knelt between my spread legs and rubbed her head against my thighs. I pulled her low-G top off, getting my first good look at her breasts.

She was definitely young, her breasts were firm and her nipples were hard. I took her nipples in my hand, first caressing them, then pulling on them. She moaned, and I watched as her body responded, her nipples growing firm under her hands.

I pulled my own top off, discarding my bra as I went. I kicked off my shoes. “Take off my pants,” I ordered her, and she undid my fly, and pulled. I lifted up off the bed, “Panties, too.”

She obliged, and pulled my pants off, standing against the wall to give herself enough space to pull them down. When my pants were in a pool beside the bed, I grabbed her wild red hair, and pulled it. She pulled back, fighting for a moment, and I laughed and pulled harder. She fell forward, back to her knees, and pressed her body against me.

I pushed her down, and pressed her lips against my cunt.

I was wet, and I wanted her now. She moaned against my mound, vibrating her lips against it. I felt her tongue parting her lips, then mine, finding my secret place with ease. She must have known what I wanted. She didn’t fuck around, and got me off fast. I grabbed her head, and held her there while I came. I left her there as I recovered.

The irrational part of my mind that had pushed for this moment since she walked into the bar finally subsided enough that I could think again. The rational part of my mind started planning now, instead of thinking about how I had to ditch her, since she was obviously either jailbait or in some worse kind of trouble. I was planning what I would do to her for the few weeks I’d have her on the ship, and only that short if we didn’t leave Earth orbit.

In other words, after those few seconds I was sold. But I’m a careful buyer, and she might have been lucky. She was already licking again, since I hadn’t pushed her away. I pulled her in tighter with my hands, and wrapped my thighs around her ears as she licked me. I fucked her face until I got off again.

It was time to get a look at the goods.

I made her stand up. She wobbled a bit in the heels, her chest was flushed with arousal, and her breathing fast and shallow. I pulled at the velcro straps of her skirt, and it fell off of her. I was right about the panties.

She was a natural redhead, her pussy hair thick red curls. The lips of her cunt stuck out, folding around her opening. My tongue ached for a taste, but I told myself to wait. I parted her lips with my finger, her skin was soft and pliant, and her breath caught as I slid my finger against her. I fondled her breast with my free hand, and brought it down to my lips.

She bent against me, wrapping her arms around me for balance. “Don’t come until I say,” I told her.

She groaned, “Yes.”

I pressed more firmly with my finger, moving slowly back and forth. I teased her nipple with my tongue in time to my other movements, and listened to her breathing. As she grew closer and closer, I looked up at her. She was looking off to one side of the room, her mind trying to be elsewhere, her lower lib caught in her teeth. I smiled to myself and began to move a little faster. She gasped and pressed against my hand. “Not yet,” I said.

She whined. I continued.

Her fingers gripped my shoulders, pressing into them, I could feel her nails against my back. I lightly bit her nipple, and sucked her breast into my mouth as I continued to tongue the tips of her nipple. I wrapped my hand around her breast, frigging her for all I was worth.

“Ready?” I asked. She nodded enthusiastically. “Not yet,” I said again, and watched her face as she tried her best to wait. I squeezed her breast, hard enough to be painful. “Now!” I said. “Come for me now.”

And she did. Her thighs squeezed my hand as she came, and she wobbled against me. I pulled her back, and let her collapse on the bed. My right hand never left her cunt, or stopped pressing against her clit. She smiled at me, “Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” I said.

She laughed, and lay next to me. I pulled myself up next to her on the bed, and she curled up next to me. “Okay,” I said. “That paid for the room. Now, why should I take you with me?”

She got up on her knees, and cupped her breasts, and pouted in a way that was both cute and fake. “Isn’t owning me enough?” she teased.

Chuckling, “But what, exactly, am I getting?”

“This,” she said, parting my legs an sitting between them. “And more.”

She slid two fingers inside of me, then three. She fucked me slowly, teasing my g-spot, and moving in and out of my cunt. She slid a fourth one in and I sighed contentedly. She fucked me like that, and I came around her fingers — a little one, just a precursor for the big one I knew she was working toward. “Ready?” she asked. I was wet enough, I knew. I just nodded.

I felt her adjust, and I knew what she was doing. Sliding her thumb into a circle with her other fingers, sliding it into me. She pressed against me, pushing against my cunt filling me up as full as she could. Her other hand settled on my mound, her thumb parting the cleft above my hole, teasing my clit. She twisted her hand inside of me, pressing in, making a fist out of her hand.

I felt my orgasm coming from a long way off, like the low thrum of engines on a large space liner. It was a low bass vibrating at the bottom of my spine; building and building as she pressed into me, and twisted and turned and teased me. And then it was on me, and in me, and taking me over completely. I wasn’t a ship captain or a lesbian pirate or anything but a solar flare of orgasm.

It’s that moment when you touch the Goddess, when you are everything and just yourself, when your whole body is focused on just one single divine thing. It didn’t happen that often, and almost never with someone you’d just met in a bar. I knew then, as I was coming down from it, that I’d made up my mind. She pulled out of me slowly, and lay down next to me.

I didn’t talk; we just lay there, skin on skin, blissful and happy. I wasn’t yet remembering that you pay for everything you get: there ain’t no such thing as a free lunch. But I wouldn’t have cared, and despite what has happened, I still think it was worth it.

“Wow, that was something,” I finally said. “You are a wonderful lover. You know you’re coming with me.”

“I know, ” she said. “I wasn’t born yesterday.”

I laughed, “No that’s true.” I adjusted her age to account for her obvious experience; she had to be older than 18.

“Actually,” she said, biting her lip. Then it dawned on me: no paperwork, no money. The clues were all there. It didn’t change anything about how I felt. I was taking her with me.

I kissed her soundly, pulling her to me, forcing my tongue between her lips. She moaned curled against me; I held her tightly in my arms. I would possess her, for as long as I could.

Clone or no.