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Chapter 35 – Tune Up
Degenerate Star Part 35 (Mf- noncon, slavery, training, primal, sci-fi)
Zed left her there in his cabin, battered, exhausted, and thoroughly sated. It was a struggle to pull herself out of the bed and shower. As water rippled down her skin, she couldn’t help but think of how marvelous Zed had felt inside her. The more his monster came out, the more she loved it. No matter how bruised and sore she was. This was a man who showed her exactly how badly he wanted her.
How many times has this water been recycled, Riley wondered. Here’s to hoping the filters are damned good. She didn’t want to think of the bodily fluids of more than a dozen crew members plus her own five cascading across her skin. Then again, the thought did give her a warm little tickle.
After drying, she returned to the main cabin, where she immediately saw the inspection tool. She could only hope that Zed, in his sated state, didn’t notice. Taking her position just inside the hatch with a foot to block it from closing Riley forced herself into work mode.
“Computer, library access.”
“Thinking, guest access granted.”
“Is the report I created complete yet?”
“Thinking, yes. The report on weaponized chemicals is completed.”
“Summarize the report.”
“Given the list of chemical supplies the following number of general weapons could be made:”
“Explosives, nine.”
“Irritants, twenty-six.”
“Correction, corrosives, one.”
“Correction, inhaled anesthetics, none.”
“Hallucinogenics, three.”
Blast it, she thought, no anesthetics. Actually no, that wasn’t correct, no inhaled anesthetics. It might be possible to get a hypo gun from the sick bay.
“How many injectable anesthetics could be made?”
“Thinking… general or local?”
“General.”
“Thinking…”
Riley interrupted, “General with an immediate effect, say within seconds.”
“Thinking… None.”
Blast and double blast. She reviewed the list in her mind. Knocking the raiders out was not possible. Neither would injecting them be possible, even if she could somehow manage to get a hypo-gun from the sick bay. But… if she was going to nip a hypo-gun from the sick bay, why not anesthetics as well? A trip to sick bay was now at the top of her priorities list.
She considered the other weapons. Explosives were just a plain bad idea. It would be too easy to blast a hole in the ship and potentially kill everyone. Corrosives were in the same category. Irritants, however, might help. After listening to the computer explain, she discovered that some of the cleaning supplies could be used in this fashion without having to mix anything.
After cleaning the room quickly, she grabbed the inspection tool. Riley went back to the utility room just in time for the dismissal huddle. She asked about their progress, but since everything had been cataloged, most were turning their attention to the actual cleaning. Riley was afraid to share her plans. She knew Geller was sharing info with Zed, and she couldn’t risk having anyone else do the same.
“I need a locker all to myself.” She explained. K’rra reviewed several cabinets and selected one just for Riley.
She inspected the cabinet. It was maybe half as tall as her, but thin. There was plenty of room to stow things that might be useful for escape. She saw a keypad on the door, “Does this work?”
“Yes. The combination has been written on a piece of tape inside the door.” K’rra replied, “There are also instructions from the manufacturer inside the door, including how to reset the code, use the lock, and where to hear support recordings should we have any maintenance needs.”
Riley looked back inside. Sure enough, a piece of tape with 1111 scrawled on it had been stuck underneath a small metal plate explaining how to use the locker. She reviewed her list of inventories and found the three cleaners that were also irritants. It was not surprising that they were starship and heavy machinery degreasers. Most household cleaning products were made so safely that children could drink them without any consequence.
She stowed the inspection tool and a couple of spray bottles in the locker, carefully reading the instructions. Then, she changed the code and locked the cabinet. The first set of weapons her people could use were locked inside.
In a few days, they would rendezvous with the inspectors. If things got ugly, it would be the perfect opportunity to get her crew off ship. If the inspectors turned out to be on the level… well, she’d have to find a way to make it look like a trap. Angry raiders in the middle of a starship battle might just be the best chance of escape they had.
Would she go with them? Riley didn’t like the thought of the inspection. Millions of credits were too much temptation. She’d like to think Zed would turn it all down for her, but would he? Could he even? Staying aboard wouldn’t answer that question. If things went badly during the inspection, Zed might get paranoid and promise to stay with her, but once safely back in the Coalition, he’d get other offers. Maybe not as generous, but she had no idea what his ultimate sell price would be. Almost sadly, she would need to leave with her crew.
It pained her to shoo the crew out of the utility, having seen how K’rra was treated just hours ago. They needed to keep at the charade, for just a little longer.
Before returning to her cabin, she decided to detour into the sick bay. No better time than right now to see about getting any tools she could to help her crew’s escape.
At the far end of the sick bay, a thin, lanky, grey-skinned alien worked at a console. Riley hoped she’d entered without notice, but Doc turned and looked at her.
“Yes?” he said. He then pointed to the examination table where her implants had been installed, “Go ahead and take a seat on the examination table.”
“I’m just here to ask you something,” Riley explained.
“That may very well be, but while you are here, I can calibrate your Training Implants. And you are overdue for a general inspection on the wear and tear of your… bits. Go on take a seat.”
Tickles of lightning flickered at her nipples. She wasted no time walking over to the exam table and sitting on it.
“Excellent response. Was that of your own volition or did the implants give you a nudge?”
“I was nudged.”
“And what exactly does that feel like?”
Riley thought for a moment, “Like someone has placed a discharging battery in a very sensitive spot.”
“Good, good. That’s perfect.” The impossibly thin doctor said. “Of course, we’ll have to verify that, but I’m glad to hear my work on strange physiologies is competent.”
“Verify?” she asked.
“Of course. You are not what I would call a willing participant. All your responses could be tailored to be deceptive if you thought it was possible. Or if the devices were not working. Just as a matter of professionalism, I’ll have to ensure the results are indeed positive.”
Doc tilted his head and stared at her with ridiculously large black eyes. “Go ahead and lie back. Place your limbs in the servos and we can conclude this as quickly as possible.”
“Why are you doing this?” she asked.
“That’s simple enough. It's my job to ensure the implants are working correctly. Can’t deliver damaged goods to the sellers.”
“No… Why would you join pirates?
He lifted her legs up onto the table while turning her so she could lie back, “Ah, that. Well, I placed last in my class on Avy. I could look forward to a career in the lowest kinds of menial tasks, or I could relocate to any number of stellar governments. All of which would be only too happy to have an Avyrian on their roster.”
“But aren’t Avyrian pacifists?” she asked as he lifted a leg up and placed the ankle into a robotic gripper on the table corner.
“Indeed, we are. I fire no weapons. I participate in no fights. The prisoners brought to me would be horribly mangled if any of these imbeciles tried to perform the operation. I simply provide a safer version of a service that would have occurred regardless.” He dropped her other ankle into a gripper.
He continued, “And in case you are wondering, I do not partake in their barbaric activities. My species reproduces via iteroparous spawning. There is no sexual contact, fertilization occurs externally. A female releases her row, and the males, driven by chemical compulsion, release milt.”
“But your actions enable them…”
Doc cut her off while pushing her back into a lying position. “What copulating species do is their own business. It’s the natural order of things. Eating is also a natural order, and sadly one I must earn an income in order to indulge.”
“Doc, please. We need your help.”
“Nope, nope.” Doc took her wrist and locked it into a gripper. “My species most closely resembles amphibians of the human worlds. We are not reared by parents and develop no emotional attachments. You would be better served saving your please for someone with a similar emotional upbringing. Besides, any helpful action on my behalf would negate the handsome bonus this ship has earned. It’s rare to capture a Federated officer.”
Blasted void. Getting a hypo and anesthetics was simply not going to be possible. Doc also seemed like the meticulous type. He’d lock everything, including the sick bay, when he wasn’t in it.
Doc reached up and grabbed the periscope-like device in both hands. He pulled it over her and lowered the bottom, thinnest part, to her navel.
“What is this thing? I’ve never seen anything like it before.” She asked.
“In Federation space, you wouldn’t. It is called an Overseer. It monitors and maintains your Training Implants.” He began adjusting dials on it while warmth seeped out of all her piercings.
Riley purred. Whatever it was doing felt so wonderfully relaxing that she wanted to lie there under it all day. She wanted to reach down and touch herself, but Doc had locked her hands in grippers at the corners of the exam table. She tugged on her legs, they were locked down as well. Any panic she might have felt was lost in the massaging fingers of warmth caressing her from inside.
“I’m going to be testing a series of different applications included with the implants. Please do not panic.”
As Riley lay there moaning to herself she wondered why she would panic with anything so delightful feeling. Doc could do whatever he wanted to her. Turning her head toward him, she saw him setting up a pair of floating mini-cameras. One slid sideways away from him and focused on her face, she smiled dreamily at it. The other followed Doc around as he moved in between her legs. An earlier version of Riley might have been ashamed, but she relaxed into the pleasure of the implants, knowing she’d been recorded plenty of time so far anyway.
With each passing moment, the pleasure increased. Soon, she was panting, desperate for release. She found herself grinding her hips trying to close her thighs, anything that might help her hit that peak. When she looked past the valley of her breast, through parted knees, she could see Doc taking notes as he watched her hungry, grasping pussy eager to get something inside it. He wasn’t interested in the way she ground her hips, the way she rolled hoping anything might touch her. The camera floated beside him recording everything.
In no time at all she was begging Doc to let her climax. If he heard or understood, he gave no indication, just stood there staring with large black, unblinking eyes while making notes. The pleasure kept ticking upward, steadily increasing.
When she started crying and screaming for release, he touched his chin as if contemplating. Moments after that, Riley could no longer think coherently. Words gurgled in her throat, and her body was no longer hers. She asked the passenger to take over and got no answer. She went blindly in an empty box where the only thing she could hear was her clit screaming along with her.
When she heard Doc finally say, “You may climax now.” She cried the happiest tears of her life. For one nanosecond. She couldn’t even describe the reaction her body had, it was so monumental, so overwhelming, so ethereal that she faded from the universe. She woke thrashing, her wrists and ankles screaming in protest at their bindings, and her body violently heaving. Wordlessly she settled back to the exam table wracked with quakes that would not stop.
And then the sharp pains started in all those places that had just been reborn in ecstasy. She was too dazed still to protest, or even speak. The pain became agonizing, universal. She knew she was screaming but couldn’t hear it. Fire licked at every nerve ending.
Suddenly it was done. Tears burned across quivering cheeks. Her whole body was an uncontrollable mess. She could feel puddles of fluids under her, unsure if they were cum, urine, or something else. She’d been torn apart and was just now being allowed to come back together. She whispered to the void, “Please, I will do anything, just don’t make me go through that ever again.”
As her body continued quaking Doc walked around beside her. She looked up at him and felt such affection as if she were hopelessly in love for the first time. If only she could show him, throw herself around him, kiss and suck his feet, she wanted desperately to make him as elated and happy as she was.
A wave of nausea swept over her. She wanted to curl up but was held down. It morphed into despair, and darkness took her.
When she slowly came back around, Doc helped her sit up and then threw a blanket around her. A cup of hot tea was pressed to her hands. She sat on the exam table, her body still shaking, and sipped carefully, letting the warmth come back into her body.
“Your implants are working remarkably well. As if you were made for them.” Doc said while working on his datapad.
Nodding, she understood exactly what he was saying. She’d been born for slavery. It suited her to her very core. Even without the implants, she’d probably be in the same condition, cumming on demand, falling for her captor, fantasizing about a life with them. How could such a wholesome upbringing, and childhood of never wanting for anything have produced this?
Doc took her cup when she finished, then the blanket.
“While you were out, I inoculated you for all known venereals and tightened things up a bit down there. While not fully virginal reconstruction, no hymen replacement, for example, you may feel a little more pressure during regular sexual activities.”
Riley thanked him as he guided her to the hatch. With a gentle shove, he pushed her out of the sick bay, and the hatch slid closed.
Dazed it took her several minutes to make the short walk back to her cabin. Unsure what to do she went to her usual spot, kneeling in front of the bed. She’d been born for it after all.
