Chapter 2 #4
I think he’s going to pilot the vessel himself.
The chair in front of the main cluster of controls looks about his size.
Which, as I think it, is a silly thing to notice because obviously all of these chairs are his size.
Nothing in this place is scaled to human form.
If I sit on any of these, my feet are going to be dangling a good way from the floor.
Arkon is very close to me right now, physically speaking. All the room in this cockpit and yet he takes up almost all of it.
“We are going straight to the work site,” he says. “We’re going to be in the field and the lab for most of your time here, so I hope you didn’t have any illusions of going shopping or seeing any concerts.”
“Uhm, no,” I say. “I’m excited to do the work.”
He nods. I am trying not to stare as he rotates the pilot’s chair toward himself before remembering about me.
“Ah,” he says. “Come and sit down. You need to be strapped in for takeoff. While gravity is still in effect you can be harmed.”
The chair he indicates is right next to his. I try to sit in it, but I have to effectively climb up into it, which I do. He reaches for me in that awkward way guys do when they kind of want to help you, but also don’t know if they should touch you or not.
I get myself into the chair, but once in it, I do struggle with what seems like a frankly massive number of belts and fasteners and whatnot, none of which were made for me. They’re obviously made for species who are taller and have four arms, so I’m not sure how I’m going to get them on.
“Okay,” he says. “Just stop and let me do this for you.”
I could swoon. And then I do.
Suddenly, his hands are on me. All four of them doing something.
One pushes me back and down into the seat, another reaches down between my legs to bring up a padded strap that snugs against a very intimate part of my body, and two others pulling straps around from the side to go over my shoulders.
It’s like a racing seat, but once the belt goes on, I can feel the ship vibrating all the way down in my crotch.
“There,” he says. “Nice and safe, I think. How does it feel?”
Right now I can feel every throbbing thrum of the ship.
It feels like being touched in the most intimate of ways.
I’ve seen vibrators that are big enough for women to ride.
This is more intense than that. This is like being inside a giant vibrator, strapped into the inner mechanics of it, being pleasured in a way I am sure I am not supposed to be enjoying.
“Uhm, good?” I answer when I remember he asked me a question.
“Not too tight?”
“Oh, uh, no.” I blush, realizing he wasn’t asking how nice it actually felt. God. I am pleased that I speak enough of his language to be able to understand him in general, but I can see all kinds of little misunderstandings coming up between us.
“Good.” He puts himself back in his chair, but there’s a moment where his gold eyes slide to me and I wonder if he knows what I really meant by good.
He does something that makes the ship thrum at a higher resonance. I feel the vibration right between my legs, the padded belt snugged up against my sex transferring all that energy right to my clit.
I make a small noise, but try to bite it back.
I know I’m already in trouble. The way I came off that ship wearing a collar…
I can still see the end of the ship’s leash poking out of his pocket a little.
I have been getting myself in trouble since I got onto the vessel.
The last thing I need right now is to come across like an oversexed basic human animal.
He frowns slightly, then hits a few more buttons on the dash. The ship’s motion changes. First it drops to a low, throbbing pulse, then it accelerates to a higher frequency vibration. Both feel incredible between my legs.
* * *
Arkon
The moment I got the first communication from the transport ship telling me that my human employee had begun her journey with an act of vandalism and espionage, I knew the first thing I was going to do when I picked up my little human assistant was punish her thoroughly for both sins.
I thought she might have been humiliated by the kennel and the collar and such, but she seems to have taken them in her stride in a way I find fascinating. Does she not mind being treated like a wayward little animal? Does she, perhaps, on some level enjoy it?
The moment she came off the vessel and was handed to me, I knew it was not going to be as simple as I had initially planned.
She is much cuter than I expected her to be.
She has big brown eyes and shiny brown hair, a round face with a cute little human nose and mouth.
Humans are such smooth creatures, especially the women.
Her face is pink, and it gets pinker the longer she looks at me.
When I put her in her co-pilot’s seat, I couldn’t help but feel how soft her curves are.
Touching her is like feeling something wild and incredibly receptive at the same time.
The urges that rose in me were powerful, but I have to control them.
It’s not easy given the fact that the scent that is coming from her is absolutely intoxicating.
She is like a flower blooming with need, and every time the ship rumbles, a fresh dose of pheromones is released.
They warned me humans were like this. Impulsive and prone to following instincts they barely understand, let alone control. But humans are also relatively cheap to employ, assuming they do not cost forty-three thousand in credits before they even reach you.
The project I am working on needs a human, according to the brief.
The tech we are developing requires a very specific kind of brain to work on it.
Not too complicated, but nothing too animal.
Humans occupy a very specific niche in the universal construct, and we are fortunate to have this one, so I do need to take good care of her.
Humans are, of course, very much in fashion at the moment for a great many reasons.
Their numbers are greatly limited, and dwindling due to their ongoing issues with breeding.
The males have almost entirely lost interest in mate-seeking behavior.
Some say it’s a natural social evolution.
Others say that it’s down to alien interference, hormone sprays in the atmosphere at one time designed to moderate population levels.
Regardless of what the cause is, humans are so hot right now.
If you can get one of these creatures that has technical field skills, you have the equivalent of a very well trained dog.
Also, employment law does not apply to them.
We had a lot of reasons to pick up a little human scientist and none of them had anything to do with how cute she has turned out to be.
I put the ship in gear, as it were, and spend a little longer than strictly necessary selecting course.
The juddering and general rumbling of engines could be turned off, but she is enjoying it so much I decide to leave them on.
The pheromones are washing over me in waves as she emits them, completely unaware of what she’s doing.
Her responses are so unguarded, it’s very charming.
It is also very alluring. She is squirming next to me, changing to an even pinker hue, her breath coming in shorter, faster patterns as she tries to fight the arousal coursing through her body.
I reach over and slide a hand down her stomach, then over the padded belt that is between her thighs.
“Checking to ensure it does not loosen for take-off,” I say, lightly patting her sex.
The sound she makes is adorable. A sort of muffled excitement.
I leave my hand there for a moment to see what she does.
I feel her hips undulate in the seat beneath my hand.
Yes, as I suspected. She is aroused and incredibly receptive.
I move my hand away. We have places to be. Like my office, where she and I will have a long conversation as to what happens to fertile little humans who try to steal proprietary tech from passenger ships.
“Is it, uh, normal to touch people like that here?”
She’s asking if I am pleasuring her on purpose. I could answer her honestly, and perhaps I should. I could tell her that she is attractive, adorable, and in so much trouble.
But I decide instead to see what she does with the notion that perhaps this is just how she will be touched, that she is property to be handled as I see fit. That’s a rather alluring option in itself.
I do not sense much in the way of true submission in her, but there is a shy willingness to experience a great many things. Again, the reports I received from her handler on the way here indicated she adjusted well to being kenneled.
What an interesting, sexy little problem she is.
I still haven’t answered her question.
“Is it normal to check seating is secure? Yes.”
She blushes and seems to be on the precipice of saying something else, but then she turns her head and looks away.
I let the ship grind and dip, much like her hips did beneath my hand. Then I accelerate into space, and she is forced back into the soft chair and the sound that escapes her lips is something like a moan.
I was going to wait to punish her. I was going to take her into a formal setting and bend her over my desk, and attach the probes and watch her writhe and come until she had no energy left. I don’t know if I want to wait that long. I could deactivate the secondary console and bend her over that…
“Wow,” she says with awe in her voice. “Look at all of it.”
The space in this region has a violet tint. I have seen it hundreds, if not thousands of times and probably never properly appreciated its beauty. There is a nebula in the distance that is all milky swirls and intermittent silver flashes as neutron detonations occur naturally in its clouds.