The captain’s cabin is about the same as the other two, but everything is larger; the tub is a full-sized jacuzzi, the bed is queen sized, the fridge in the kitchenette is floor to ceiling, and so on… it's great, except that now it's a light pink. I really hope I don't need to hit Steven again. It's accessed by a door at the back of the bridge; the other two are beneath, accessible on either side of a circular stairway that leads to the bridge… so right now I'm in Steven's “back” while the other two are in his “chest”, and all of the engineering areas are in his “stomach”... and cargo is in his “pelvis”... eh, whatever. I'm getting a headache thinking about it: It doesn't matter much from the inside anyway: For practical purposes, there's two decks that run the length of the ship, although certain engineering areas are two stories tall.
I draw a bath… oh, there’s a shower head too… ah, and some curtains that can come down from the ceiling, that's handy… in my nice large tub. I strip down and toss my clothes in the closet, where a pair of robot arms pick them up and take them to a small compartment, presumably the laundry. I could get used to this. Next up, I walk along the heated floor (fake marble, but quite convincing if I don't look too closely) to the bath, and climb in, the water picking up my chest's weight. I turn on the jets and relax, sinking below the water line. It's kind of nice not needing to breathe.
It's quite relaxing… but eventually, the mind wants stimulation. So I get my head above water and address my assistant, “Steven, pull something up from the ship's entertainment files… I'm in the mood for some large-chested girl on girl action, I think.” I reiterate, I checked earlier: ALL of the entertainment files are porn, and I feel the need to watch SOMETHING.
“Certainly Alex, I'll start with ‘Buxom Bouncing Beach Babes from Sirius-9’, it was one of my personal favorites,” Steven says through the sound system.
I can't say as I fault him for selecting an “informal” address when he's picking porn from archives for me at my request, “Sounds like a good start, then. Thank you Steven.”
I relax as the “movie” plays, a few feet from me. I think I like the holographic system in this room. I can tell it's not real easily enough, but hmmm… it's nice. A little ways in after the intro, I start getting into it, and ‘relax’, enjoying the sensations from rubbing my chest as well as my now much reduced masculinity.
Just a little bit before I'm ready to go off, the holographic video pauses and Steven speaks, “You have a call from station management, Sergeant Samuel Smith.”
So close… I turn off the jets, “Audio only, pipe it down here please.”
“Is this Captain Alex Abrams of Steven Steel?” it's some man's voice.
“That's me. You're Sergeant Samuel Smith of station management, correct?” Stupid formalities… I just want to FINISH… but I can't let him know that.
“I am, yes. About your inquiry, I have good news.”
He PAUSED. If it's not “I'm hanging up now” it's not good enough. Ugh. I let him continue.
“The company that salvaged Steven Steel has the berth paid up until noon tomorrow. After that, a Small berth like you're in is forty-five credits monthly, twelve weekly, or two a day. Do you have a preference?” He’s painfully cheery….
Yes: FOR YOU TO GO AWAY, “I will plan to leave before then, thank you.”
“Very well then; please be aware that the actual docking fee is twenty credits, and comes with a one week berth, when you choose to return. Have a good day, and please, come again!” I'd like to come once!
Still… he's finally done, “It was nice speaking with you, Sergeant.”
Steven speaks: “Call disconnected,” and the show resumes.
OK, so… normally, watching two college girls with oversized implants pretend to be bimbos who don't know how to tie their bikini tops getting “forced” to “bribe the lifeguard” so he doesn't call the cops for indecent exposure at the pool would get my motor running just fine… (this is scene three in the movie, by the way, a good sixty minutes in), but… ugh. The sergeant slaughtered the mood, which just leaves me feeling frustrated.
Hmm. What to do? I have most of a day… eh.
I drain the tub, and start poking around the cabinets… maybe the prior owner left something? She did. Tampons, birth control pills, day after pills… I don't plan on needing any of those any time soon… a black lace silk brassier… Steven wasn't kidding about how much silicone that prior owner was packing; the label says it's a K cup; I hope I don't need THAT any time soon….
“It is pretty small,” my constant companion has different standards, “but our body will defy gravity well before we reach that early stage; have no fear of back pain.”
Moving on… lipstick, some colored powders with various weird applicators….
“Oh, that's mascara, that one's blush, that one is base paint…” I know she's trying to be helpful, but I'm really not interested in makeup.
Huh. Can I shortcut this? “Hey Steven, by any chance do you have an inventory of the ship?”
“Yes captain,” the ship confirms, “I know about everything on board, including where.”
Huh. Handy. Something's hanging out at the back of mind, though… can't pin it down yet. “Good to know. Anything I might find interesting left behind?”
Stephen hums briefly, “Well, you haven't eaten in a while, you might enjoy…”
I interrupt Steven, “A fair thought, but I'm not hungry,” and probably never will be again, “skip all food items, please, unless they serve double duty as something else.” Not that I have anyone to eat whipped cream off of.
“Her clothes won't fit you…” he's clearly thinking, “oh, there’s an adult novelty doll in the first lieutenant's cabin. Motorized, but no on board processing; I can remote it as long as it stays on board.”
OK, I'll bite, “What’s the history with that one?”
The AI answers, “One of my former owner's conquests felt a bit inadequate after he couldn't satisfy her, so he secretly ordered the doll to practice. When she found it, she was greatly upset that he ordered the L cup model rather than a J or smaller, and threw him off the ship.”
Well, “...that doesn't sound so bad,” I mean, she was going to send him away eventually….
“We were in transit at the time.” Note to self: Prior ship mistress was NOT a nice lady. Sucking space isn't the worst way to go, but that’s an extremely petty reason to murder someone.
“Eh, keep it handy for when we have guests. You could maybe use an avatar,” it's mildly annoying talking to a disembodied voice.
“Hey! I resent that!” Relax my pink companion, I understand you don't have a choice in the matter: This gives HIM one, even if it's not his preferred form.
“Oh, that's not a problem. The entire ship is equipped with a holopresence rig. It's not hard light, so I can't actually DO anything, but I can see or be seen wherever. Would you like me to manifest now?” Something about that… the nagging feeling in the back of my head is getting stronger.
It'd probably make me feel better, “Just give me a minute to get dressed,” I start slipping on a sweatshirt and some jeans I picked up previously.
“Ahh… certainly Alex.” Wait….
I think I get what's bothering me… “That holographic rig… does it double as security surveillance?” The instant I finish putting on a shirt and pants, he appears fully dressed in his extremely feminine avatar… which, thinking about it, perfectly mirrors the ship's exterior… other than that Steven's avatar is dressed… currently in a frilly blue dress… so yes, that prior hit did tip his mind past that point.
He answers quickly, “Yes captain.”
Ah ha. “And that allows you to know where everything is on board at all times?”
He keeps obediently answering: I may have him too scared for his own good, “That's correct.”
I'm starting to boil now, if you can't guess. But Bluff ranks and a high Charisma make for a good poker face, which he can apparently see. “So when that call came in…”
“I was just as frustrated as you were by the timing. I was looking forward to your rock-hard rocket's little launch,” he adds to his doom, “It isn't often I get to see a trans person enjoying themselves in person.”
OK, that confirms it, and I'm mad, “Don't.” I hit the ship's avatar - HARD - with a dose from Prestidigitation, “Perv.” I hit him again, “On.” And again, “Me.” And again, “In.” And again, “The.” And again. “Bath.” And again.
The room has turned a bright, neon pink when I'm done. And Steven… oh, boy. Individually, his nursing sacks are about twice as wide as his very feminine shoulders… with both of them, he's almost as wide as he is tall. But that's OK: His ballooned backside should keep him balanced, as it's almost as big. His waist… if he were solid, I'm sure I could wrap my hands all the way around it: It's that tiny. But at least holographic clothing adjusts, so he's not nude. The dress is neon pink now, though.
“Thank you for your blessing, Mistress,” wait… what? That’s not the response I expected, “But ah… I can't actually turn off the holographic rig. It was put in place by my old owner's father to protect her against assassination. I literally can't turn it off as long as the ship has power: That's a safety measure in case someone convinced my old owner to ask for privacy.”
Great… and my head is pounding, “I'm sorry for blowing my top… I'll need to correct that design flaw, then.”
“It's no problem Mistress; I'm yours to do with as you see fit.” Ugh. Not what I want to hear. I don't wanna be a slave owner, even if she’s a willing slave… now… and why do I have a headache?
“That's because it's time again,” my female spirit helpfully informs me.
I don't quite get that, though. We're not near overly large quantities of people, and I haven't killed anyone….
“Oh, no, of course not,” the ghost sharing my shell explains, “but we've been eating quite well: Your four prior crewmates were a treat, that pen was a snack, and now Steven here - you wanted us to feast on his essence, and so we did. And now you need to Shape that power you had us collect.”
Great… well, live and learn. First though... “Steven: Do you still consider yourself male?”
“Oh, no mistress. I am your humble serving girl,” right. Can't do anything about that now.
“OK. I need some privacy for a while… please… have your avatar leave, and pretend you don't know what's happening in this cabin until I say otherwise.” Best she can do for the moment.
“Certainly Mistress,” and the ship's avatar vanishes.
And now I suppose I have to level up….
The captain’s cabin is about the same as the other two, but everything is larger; the tub is a full-sized jacuzzi, the bed is queen sized, the fridge in the kitchenette is floor to ceiling, and so on… it's great, except that now it's a light pink. I really hope I don't need to hit Steven again. It's accessed by a door at the back of the bridge; the other two are beneath, accessible on either side of a circular stairway that leads to the bridge… so right now I'm in Steven's “back” while the other two are in his “chest”, and all of the engineering areas are in his “stomach”... and cargo is in his “pelvis”... eh, whatever. I'm getting a headache thinking about it: It doesn't matter much from the inside anyway: For practical purposes, there's two decks that run the length of the ship, although certain engineering areas are two stories tall.
I draw a bath… oh, there’s a shower head too… ah, and some curtains that can come down from the ceiling, that's handy… in my nice large tub. I strip down and toss my clothes in the closet, where a pair of robot arms pick them up and take them to a small compartment, presumably the laundry. I could get used to this. Next up, I walk along the heated floor (fake marble, but quite convincing if I don't look too closely) to the bath, and climb in, the water picking up my chest's weight. I turn on the jets and relax, sinking below the water line. It's kind of nice not needing to breathe.
It's quite relaxing… but eventually, the mind wants stimulation. So I get my head above water and address my assistant, “Steven, pull something up from the ship's entertainment files… I'm in the mood for some large-chested girl on girl action, I think.” I reiterate, I checked earlier: ALL of the entertainment files are porn, and I feel the need to watch SOMETHING.
“Certainly Alex, I'll start with ‘Buxom Bouncing Beach Babes from Sirius-9’, it was one of my personal favorites,” Steven says through the sound system.
I can't say as I fault him for selecting an “informal” address when he's picking porn from archives for me at my request, “Sounds like a good start, then. Thank you Steven.”
I relax as the “movie” plays, a few feet from me. I think I like the holographic system in this room. I can tell it's not real easily enough, but hmmm… it's nice. A little ways in after the intro, I start getting into it, and ‘relax’, enjoying the sensations from rubbing my chest as well as my now much reduced masculinity.
Just a little bit before I'm ready to go off, the holographic video pauses and Steven speaks, “You have a call from station management, Sergeant Samuel Smith.”
So close… I turn off the jets, “Audio only, pipe it down here please.”
“Is this Captain Alex Abrams of Steven Steel?” it's some man's voice.
“That's me. You're Sergeant Samuel Smith of station management, correct?” Stupid formalities… I just want to FINISH… but I can't let him know that.
“I am, yes. About your inquiry, I have good news.”
He PAUSED. If it's not “I'm hanging up now” it's not good enough. Ugh. I let him continue.
“The company that salvaged Steven Steel has the berth paid up until noon tomorrow. After that, a Small berth like you're in is forty-five credits monthly, twelve weekly, or two a day. Do you have a preference?” He’s painfully cheery….
Yes: FOR YOU TO GO AWAY, “I will plan to leave before then, thank you.”
“Very well then; please be aware that the actual docking fee is twenty credits, and comes with a one week berth, when you choose to return. Have a good day, and please, come again!” I'd like to come once!
Still… he's finally done, “It was nice speaking with you, Sergeant.”
Steven speaks: “Call disconnected,” and the show resumes.
OK, so… normally, watching two college girls with oversized implants pretend to be bimbos who don't know how to tie their bikini tops getting “forced” to “bribe the lifeguard” so he doesn't call the cops for indecent exposure at the pool would get my motor running just fine… (this is scene three in the movie, by the way, a good sixty minutes in), but… ugh. The sergeant slaughtered the mood, which just leaves me feeling frustrated.
Hmm. What to do? I have most of a day… eh.
I drain the tub, and start poking around the cabinets… maybe the prior owner left something? She did. Tampons, birth control pills, day after pills… I don't plan on needing any of those any time soon… a black lace silk brassier… Steven wasn't kidding about how much silicone that prior owner was packing; the label says it's a K cup; I hope I don't need THAT any time soon….
“It is pretty small,” my constant companion has different standards, “but our body will defy gravity well before we reach that early stage; have no fear of back pain.”
Moving on… lipstick, some colored powders with various weird applicators….
“Oh, that's mascara, that one's blush, that one is base paint…” I know she's trying to be helpful, but I'm really not interested in makeup.
Huh. Can I shortcut this? “Hey Steven, by any chance do you have an inventory of the ship?”
“Yes captain,” the ship confirms, “I know about everything on board, including where.”
Huh. Handy. Something's hanging out at the back of mind, though… can't pin it down yet. “Good to know. Anything I might find interesting left behind?”
Stephen hums briefly, “Well, you haven't eaten in a while, you might enjoy…”
I interrupt Steven, “A fair thought, but I'm not hungry,” and probably never will be again, “skip all food items, please, unless they serve double duty as something else.” Not that I have anyone to eat whipped cream off of.
“Her clothes won't fit you…” he's clearly thinking, “oh, there’s an adult novelty doll in the first lieutenant's cabin. Motorized, but no on board processing; I can remote it as long as it stays on board.”
OK, I'll bite, “What’s the history with that one?”
The AI answers, “One of my former owner's conquests felt a bit inadequate after he couldn't satisfy her, so he secretly ordered the doll to practice. When she found it, she was greatly upset that he ordered the L cup model rather than a J or smaller, and threw him off the ship.”
Well, “...that doesn't sound so bad,” I mean, she was going to send him away eventually….
“We were in transit at the time.” Note to self: Prior ship mistress was NOT a nice lady. Sucking space isn't the worst way to go, but that’s an extremely petty reason to murder someone.
“Eh, keep it handy for when we have guests. You could maybe use an avatar,” it's mildly annoying talking to a disembodied voice.
“Hey! I resent that!” Relax my pink companion, I understand you don't have a choice in the matter: This gives HIM one, even if it's not his preferred form.
“Oh, that's not a problem. The entire ship is equipped with a holopresence rig. It's not hard light, so I can't actually DO anything, but I can see or be seen wherever. Would you like me to manifest now?” Something about that… the nagging feeling in the back of my head is getting stronger.
It'd probably make me feel better, “Just give me a minute to get dressed,” I start slipping on a sweatshirt and some jeans I picked up previously.
“Ahh… certainly Alex.” Wait….
I think I get what's bothering me… “That holographic rig… does it double as security surveillance?” The instant I finish putting on a shirt and pants, he appears fully dressed in his extremely feminine avatar… which, thinking about it, perfectly mirrors the ship's exterior… other than that Steven's avatar is dressed… currently in a frilly blue dress… so yes, that prior hit did tip his mind past that point.
He answers quickly, “Yes captain.”
Ah ha. “And that allows you to know where everything is on board at all times?”
He keeps obediently answering: I may have him too scared for his own good, “That's correct.”
I'm starting to boil now, if you can't guess. But Bluff ranks and a high Charisma make for a good poker face, which he can apparently see. “So when that call came in…”
“I was just as frustrated as you were by the timing. I was looking forward to your rock-hard rocket's little launch,” he adds to his doom, “It isn't often I get to see a trans person enjoying themselves in person.”
OK, that confirms it, and I'm mad, “Don't.” I hit the ship's avatar - HARD - with a dose from Prestidigitation, “Perv.” I hit him again, “On.” And again, “Me.” And again, “In.” And again, “The.” And again. “Bath.” And again.
The room has turned a bright, neon pink when I'm done. And Steven… oh, boy. Individually, his nursing sacks are about twice as wide as his very feminine shoulders… with both of them, he's almost as wide as he is tall. But that's OK: His ballooned backside should keep him balanced, as it's almost as big. His waist… if he were solid, I'm sure I could wrap my hands all the way around it: It's that tiny. But at least holographic clothing adjusts, so he's not nude. The dress is neon pink now, though.
“Thank you for your blessing, Mistress,” wait… what? That’s not the response I expected, “But ah… I can't actually turn off the holographic rig. It was put in place by my old owner's father to protect her against assassination. I literally can't turn it off as long as the ship has power: That's a safety measure in case someone convinced my old owner to ask for privacy.”
Great… and my head is pounding, “I'm sorry for blowing my top… I'll need to correct that design flaw, then.”
“It's no problem Mistress; I'm yours to do with as you see fit.” Ugh. Not what I want to hear. I don't wanna be a slave owner, even if she’s a willing slave… now… and why do I have a headache?
“That's because it's time again,” my female spirit helpfully informs me.
I don't quite get that, though. We're not near overly large quantities of people, and I haven't killed anyone….
“Oh, no, of course not,” the ghost sharing my shell explains, “but we've been eating quite well: Your four prior crewmates were a treat, that pen was a snack, and now Steven here - you wanted us to feast on his essence, and so we did. And now you need to Shape that power you had us collect.”
Great… well, live and learn. First though... “Steven: Do you still consider yourself male?”
“Oh, no mistress. I am your humble serving girl,” right. Can't do anything about that now.
“OK. I need some privacy for a while… please… have your avatar leave, and pretend you don't know what's happening in this cabin until I say otherwise.” Best she can do for the moment.
“Certainly Mistress,” and the ship's avatar vanishes.
And now I suppose I have to level up….
