As the ship dropped out of warp, Captain Tark saw the star for the first time. Its odd green glow bathed the ship. It was unique in the galaxy. Most stars that appeared green from a distance were simply diffused blue or white, but this was emitting an actual green glow.

“Fascinating,” Commander Sporn said, his coldly logical voice summarizing his scientific opinion succinctly. It was a trait of his species that Captain Tark had come around to seeing as charming.

“Deploy our sensors,” Captain Tark said. “Starcorp wants us to collect readings and report back.” He stopped short of saying ‘The sooner we do that, the sooner we can leave’. Tark had made no illusion to his superiors that he believed this mission far beneath the skills of his crew. They had explored some of the farthest reaches of the galaxies. They had fought enemies that no one had ever heard of before. They had dealt with trickster gods, mechanic aberrations, races waging perpetual war, and hundreds of other threats that would make a normal captain and crew break down in fear. Now, they were looking at a star because it was a weird color? What a waste.

“Deploying, Captain,” Ensign Rochelle reported, flicking a few switches. Captain Tark allowed himself the most fleeting of glances in her direction before forcing his head forward again. Rochelle was the youngest member of the bridge crew. She was fresh out of the academy at 19, one of the earliest graduations on record. Her rising star had required a posting of similar esteem, which lead to her being assigned to the USS Prestige—Captain Tark’s ship. Unfortunately for Captain Tark, Ensign Rochelle was one of the most drop-dead gorgeous women he had ever laid eyes on. Her curves found the perfect balance of full and flat in everywhere Captain Tark wanted, a sort of mythological creature to plague the minds of men. While her uniform did nothing to flatter her form, Tark spent countless nights wondering if she truly was as magical beneath there as he imagined.

Even more unfortunate for Captain Tark, who had bedded more creatures across the galaxy than anyone else onboard, Ensign Rochelle was in a committed relationship with a woman back home. Tark knew that he should be more enlightened in this century than the barbarians of the past, but he couldn’t help but feel that it was a waste. She had a body that men would kill to play with, but she was off-limits to men.

Captain Tark shook his head clear of the thought, hoping that no one noticed that his casual glance had turned into more of a leer. A quick glance to Commander Sporn showed humor on the alien’s face, but he said nothing.

“Any initial readings?” Captain Tark asked. He fixated his eyes on the screen, not trusting himself to look in Ensign Rochelle’s direction again.

“Negative, sir,” Ensign Rochelle said. “Just normal solar radia… wait… scratch that, Captain. Underneath the normal solar radiation for a star of this size is another band of radiation. It’s… it’s not at a wavelength that we’ve observed before.”

Commander Sporn turned to one of the others on the bridge. “Run a search of Starcorp records.”

“It is harmful?” Captain Tark asked.

“At this wavelength, it shouldn’t be, sir,” Ensign Rochelle said. “The wavelengths above and below are fairly normal, consistent with being at this distance of the star. There must be some reaction occurring within the star that is unique. Perhaps anomaly in the fusion reaction?”

“Cease speculation until we have firm evidence,” Commander Sporn said. The reprimand was delivered without malice, just the same cold logic that was ever-present from the commander.

“Yes sir,” Ensign Rochelle nodded. Her long blonde hair, tied back in a cute bob, bounced just slightly with the action. Captain Tark did his best not to notice. It shouldn’t have been sexy, but every male could explain that there were some women who just drove you nuts with every little action they made. Captain Tark’s curse was that it was the promising, unavailable ensign on his bridge.

“No record of this band of radiation in Starcorp files,” the other officer reported.

“Very well,” Captain Tark said. “Collect data from the sensors, make a detailed log for Starcorp, and give me any notable findings as they arise.” He stood, straightened his shirt, and turned to Commander Sporn. “Commander, the bridge is yours.”

“Yes Captain,” Sporn nodded.

Captain Tark left the bridge, went to his room, and locked the door. Then, he jerked off, imagining the 19-year-old blonde ensign with the mythically magnificent body. He put her in poses that, he knew, she would never put herself with a man. In Tark’s imagination, that blonde bob bounced furiously from a position on her knees. He came, but the momentary satisfaction only left him feeling bitter and frustrated.

* * *

Counselor Dayna felt something odd. Her species had the ability to feel the emotions of others in a telepathic manner, which made them uniquely qualified as counselors aboard starships. She frowned, opening herself up to the telepathic energy. There was a sort of disquietness settling on the ship—call it a restlessness. What was that?

Counselor Dayna pressed the communicator button on her uniform. “Dayna to Commander Sporn.”

“Sporn here,” the Commander said.

“Is there… is there anything wrong?” Dayna said, trying to put her thoughts into words.

“Can you be more specific, Counselor?” Commander Sporn asked.

“I feel a degree of… restlessness… on the ship. Is there any cause?” Dayna asked.

“Nothing of note,” Commander Sporn said. “Perhaps the feeling originates from the perception of unimportance of the mission. That’s the only logical explanation I can think of.”

“Yes, that may be it,” Dayna said, discontent nonetheless. “Apologies for bothering you, Commander.”

“Not at all, Counselor,” Commander Sporn said before breaking the connection.

Dayna still couldn’t put her finger on it, though. It was more than dissatisfaction with the mission. In fact, Dayna was finding that she was feeling rather restless herself. There was no reason for it, but her clothes itched at her and something didn’t quite feel right. She could feel it across the ship, as well. She wondered what could be causing it.

* * *

On the tenth deck, in a bar and hangout for the crew, Amy Coleson, a brunette in the engineering section, finally decided that tonight would be the night with her boyfriend. She had been building up to it and today seemed like just as good of a time as ever. She let herself be lead back to his quarters, where things quickly grew serious. They stayed in the room for two hours, finding plenty of ways to pass the time.

In the hologram projector, Corporal Carrie Marco, stationed in the medical wing, locked herself into a program that she had always fantasized about, but never had the courage to actually play. A burly man took her under the moonlight. Carrie was rather embarrassed when her superior officer called her on her communicator and she realized that she was late for duty. She had spent more time in the program than she had expected.

Cho McBailey, wife of the chief transporter officer, woke her husband up with a long, tender blowjob. She had never had the courage to do it before, but today she decided to take a leap. Her husband had no complaints about being woken up and Cho had two breakfasts that morning.

* * *

Captain Tark walked back through the corridors of the ship, wiping the sleep from his eyes as he did. The duty had been quiet ever since arriving and it was good for the Captain to show up on the bridge from time to time, even when not needed.

A shapely redhead passed by him and Captain Tark did a double take after she passed. The redhead had chosen the skirted uniform. It was an option presented to the crew, along with the pants uniform. Some species and some officers felt more comfortable in one or the other. But the redhead had chosen the skirt and apparently was issued a skirt that was much too short. Still, she wore it proudly, he toned legs on display to a teasingly high degree.

It actually seemed that several women had chosen the shorter skirt. In fact, almost every woman Captain Tark saw was wearing the skirted uniform and each skirt was far shorter than Captain Tark would have thought approvable by Starcorp.

Captain Tark didn’t mind, of course, but it was noticeable.

He entered the bridge. Commander Sporn called, “Captain on deck” and backs straightened at their posts.

“Commander,” Captain Tark said with a nod. He cast a glance around, noticing that the women on the bridge were all wearing the same shortened uniforms.

“Commander… do you notice anything… different about the women onboard?” the Captain asked quietly.

“Yes, Captain,” Commander Sporn nodded, matching the low tone. “Apparently there is a new fashion trend. I do not personally find fashion accessible. In fact, I find it illogical and prone to subjective, vane concerns. But I did read a report this morning that more new uniforms were generated by the assembler than any day of operation on this ship.”

“And the uniforms?” the Captain pushed.

“All for female crewmembers, all of the skirted variety, and all with custom requests,” Commander Sporn said.

“Custom regarding the length of the skirt?” Captain Tark asked.

“Yes, Captain,” Commander Sporn, “although a portion of the uniforms also had requests regarding the necklines.”

Before Captain Tark could ask for clarification, the elevator to the bridge opened and Ensign Rochelle stepped onto the bridge. Like the others, the skirted uniform flirted on the smaller edge of the definition of “mini-skirt”. Unlike the others that the Captain had seen, however, her neckline was dropped low. Her ample cleavage toyed with the neckline, taunting Captain Tark.

Suddenly, Captain Tark was aware that he was gawking at the Ensign quite openly. She was looking back at him. She smiled coyly, licked her lips, and then moved to her station. Captain Tark summoned all his effort to remove his gaze from the 19-year-old.

“Curious,” Commander Sporn said evenly. “So the fashion choices are not limited to the heterosexual members of the crew.”

Captain Tark shook his head, trying to clear the thoughts that were erupting from his more basic instincts.

“Tell me about the star,” Captain Tark commanded.

“We have collected samples of radiation from the surrounding area,” Commander Sporn said. “It does seem that the balance of fusion within the star is different from anywhere else documented in the galaxy. The precise elements and the source of their initial ignition must have been quite unique for this sort of stable reaction. We’re analyzing our results now, but it does seem that, aside from the curiosity, there is little actionable findings to be gathered from here.”

“I see,” Captain Tark said. “Well, be thorough on the analysis. We don’t want to be brought back due to some lingering questions.”

“Yes, Captain,” Commander Sporn said. “Science is doing those very tests as we speak.”

There was a chirp from their communicators. “Captain? This is Counselor Dayna. I… I think we may have a problem onboard the ship.”

* * *

Counselor Dayna was always one of the crew members to prefer the skirted uniform, and it seemed that she too had used the ship’s assembler to make a shorter skirt. Her porcelain legs were long and lean. Captain Tark also noticed that her shoes were taller heels than Captain Tark was used to. He didn’t mind. He also didn’t mind that Dayna was standing in the Captain’s ready room, while both Captain Tark and Commander Sporn sat. If Dayna minded the occasional glances down her body that both officers gave her, she didn’t say anything.

“There is something strange happening on the ship,” Counselor Danya said. “I first felt it when we arrived in the system yesterday and the feeling has only grown. It’s a… umm… sort of…” She bit her lip in an almost girlish gesture. Captain Tark was taken back. Counselor Danya was always a very articulate, thoughtful speaker. To see her at a loss was unusual.

“What is it, Counselor?” Commander Sporn asked.

“Everyone is so horny,” Dayna finally blurted out. Both commanding officers sat back in shock.

“Especially the women,” Dayna continued, apparently relieved to have finally said the words. “It seems that their minds and emotions are increasingly occupied with sex. And… it’s… it’s not just the sense of needing release. It’s a sort of… umm…”

“Counselor, perhaps this conversation would be easier if I give you permission to simply speak freely,” Captain Tark said.

“Thank you, Captain,” Dayna said. “They want to be used. They want to be objectified. It’s a primal sort of emotion that I haven’t felt frequently, but it’s the powerful desire to simply please… others.” She paused, bit her lip again, and amended, “To please men.” She paused, took a breath, and added, “I fear that if this trend continues, they may become unfit for their duties.”

“Unfit?” Captain Tark said with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes Captain,” Dayna nodded. “If the women cannot focus on anything but male sexual gratification, then they do not have the appropriate focus to do their jobs aboard a starship.”

“What about the men onboard?” Captain Tark asked.

Dayna’s eyes drifted over to Command Sporn for a moment, then she said, “It seems that they’re hornier, but not without reason. The behavior of the women onboard has enticed the men. I think they are behaving well inline with expectations, regarding the circumstances. I think they’re still fit for duty.”

Captain Tark turned to Commander Sporn. “See if we have enough males at every station to operate at normal efficiency. No changes just yet, but we need to know any deficiencies before they become a problem.”

“Yes, Captain,” Commander Sporn said. He turned to Dayna. “I feel it is only logical, Counselor, to point out that you, too, are female. Do you observe the same effects taking hold in you as you ascribe to others on the ship?”

Dayna bit her lip and looked down sheepishly at the ground.

“Yes, Commander,” she said. “I find my thoughts to be frequently drawn towards… unprofessional topics. I confess that I have already failed in resisting the desire to expose myself… to invite male gaze and objectification.” She glanced down at her uniform.

Captain Tark and Commander Sporn exchanged a glance. So that explained the latest “fashion” trend. While Captain Tark’s mind dwelt on the implication that it had affected Ensign Rochelle as well—who normally had no desire for male sexual relationships—Commander Sporn turned again to Dayna.

“I can say with some confidence that there will be no repercussions for your self-described failure,” Commander Sporn said evenly. “Technically, I do believe you are not in violation of any Starcorp procedures, even if your uniform is unorthodox.” He paused, and then added, “And if I may be allowed a moment of brevity, I don’t believe that either Captain Tark or myself mind the appeal to the male gaze.”

The rare joke from Commander Sporn might have intended to elicit humor from the ship’s counselor, but instead an odd look passed over Dayna’s face. She shuddered slightly and her eyes fixed on Commander Sporn with a sort of animal lust. Her tongue played coyly on the inside of her moist lips, occasionally surfacing in a seductive taunt. Her body stood firm and her chest pushed out, accentuating her curves. Dayna’s fingers teased at the bottom hem of her skirt, apparently resisting the urge to pull it further up. Both men had the feeling that there was very little they could suggest right now that would not be actively agreed to. The ship’s counselor had disappeared. A living embodiment of sexual passion stood in her place.

Then, it was over. Dayna regained some measure of control. She held her hands behind her back, apparently to remove the temptation to unveil herself more.

“I’m sorry, Captain,” Dayna said. “I… I don’t know what came over me.”

“I believe you have adequately demonstrated the problem,” Commander Sporn said. “Thank you for bringing it to our attention. Perhaps it’s better if you went to your quarters for the time being.”

“Yes,” Dayna nodded. “I… you’re right. As I said… unfit.”

“You have performed your duty admirably,” Captain Tark said. “Don’t chastise yourself. Just take it easy and let us figure out what to do about it.”

Dayna nodded and excused herself.

Captain Tark turned to Commander Sporn. “It’s got to be the sun,” he said. “Something about that extra radiation band.”

“That was my conclusion as well,” Commander Sporn nodded solemnly. “It’s the most logical conclusion.”

“Have Science look for the effects of the new radiation on female and male test subjects,” Captain Tark said. “We should… we need to understand the cause of this.”

“Yes,” Commander Sporn nodded. “Might I suggest that it would be prudent for the both of us to retire to our quarters for a short period of time before continuing on this course of action?”

Captain Tark nodded. “Commander, I think that’s a very logical suggestion.”

* * *

Commander Sporn found himself solving odd problems over the next days.

There were apparently sharp disagreements regarding whose turn it was to use the hologram projector chamber. Numerous women crewmates insisted it was their turn and their right to stay in it as long as they wanted. Commander Sporn eventually decided that no woman would be allowed the use of the room until the effect of the radiation had been fully established.

This seemed to lead directly to a warning that was issued by the ship to his office that there was an unusual amount of draw on the ship’s assembler. Commander Sporn took a look at the list of items ordered to be created and found that, in addition to the high number of shortened uniforms produced, the ship also was producing a vast amount of female-pleasure tools. A quick, easy calculation said that there was now an average of 3 dildos or vibrators to every one female onboard. On top of that, each woman onboard seemed to also be producing frilly lingerie—even those unattached romantically. These were a lesser draw on the assembler, due to a lesser amount of material required to produce the desired pieces. Nonetheless, Commander Sporn ordered a strict rations on the material allotted to each female member of the crew. The number of dildos dropped, as the women apparently decided it was more important to wear the latest demeaning, sexy outfit than it was to get themselves off.

Finally, apparently pushed to it by the lack of other escape, public displays of affection were apparently increasingly sharply among the crew. While this was not strictly against the rules of Starcorp, the degree of the displays was increasing rapidly.

Commander Storm first noticed it when he saw a couple in the tenth deck bar, the woman straddling the man and kissing him passionately. His hands couldn’t decide whether they wanted her chest or her rear and changed his mind every few seconds. She continuously wiggled to allow him freer access to whichever he wanted.

Later, Commander Sporn was using a restroom when the undeniable sounds of a lovemaking ritual echoed out of the farthest stall. From the sound of it, the male involved was either very talented or the woman involved was very easy to please.

A mere two hours later, however, the women were apparently losing all sense of discretion. Commander Sporn, on his way to Science for the latest report, found two crewmembers in the hallway. The man was leaning against the wall, while the woman had removed most of the top portion of her uniform—apparently exclusively for visual stimulation. She was pleasuring the man with her mouth in a manner that demonstrated a high degree of skill and dedication. The man looked at Commander Sporn with alarm, apparently embarrassed to be found in this position.

“As you were, Lieutenant,” Commander Sporn said simply as he walked past.

Science was starting to come up with some answers. The head Science officer told him that the radiation had no effect on XY chromosomes, but apparently reacted with the combination of XX chromosomes. It was documented to have the effect of loosening inhibitions, increasing libido, and decreasing self esteem—therefore increasing the need for validation from outside forces. They were studying more about why the validation apparently needed to come from a specifically male source, but all of Commander Sporn’s suspicions were proven. The greatest outstanding question was in regard to how long this would last. Would the removal of the exposure from the green sun remove the effect? Commander Sporn ordered the continued study until an answer was arrived at.

“One more thing,” the head science officer added before Commander Sporn left. “If I’m not mistaken, it might also be having a more physical effect.”

“Something harmful?” Commander Sporn asked, concerned.

“No,” the science officer said. “If anything, it appears to be improving the health of the women I’ve studied. Their cells are rejuvenated, they have more energy, and… um… it appears to be activating some of the evolutionary advantages inherent in their DNA.”

“Which advantages?” Commander Sporn asked.

“Specifically… those advantages which make one more attractive to mate with,” the science officer said. “It’s not just making them sexually active… it’s making them sexier too.”

“Fascinating,” Commander Sporn noted thoughtfully.

* * *

It was Lieutenant Vor that first noticed her changed body. Her tits—she wondered if she had always called them that, but then decided it didn’t matter—looked great when she woke up. They were fuller and perkier than they had been in some years. Not wanting to waste the opportunity, Vor slipped on one of the mostly-transparent nighty she had made with the assembler yesterday, did her hair, and donned some tall heels. Confident that she would attract attention, she left her quarters and went prowling.

Vor quickly found an officer who couldn’t stop gawking at her. She smiled, pulled him close by his waistband, and found hard evidence against her leg that proved that she looked as good as she felt.

“I’ve been meaning to try something, dear,” she said. She didn’t know the man’s name, but that didn’t seem to matter. “May I?” With his sheepish nod, she bent down, freed her perky tits from the skimpy nighty, and then unzipped the man’s pants. Her tits were definitely fuller, Vor thought as she wrapped them around his cock. She jerked him hard, smiling up at him with the joy of objectification that she had so recently discovered, and giggled when she saw the look of carnal desire he was eyeing her with. It felt so good to make him feel good.

Maybe it was the perkiness of the tits, the vigor by which Vor jerked him with them, or some combination of everything, but Vor quickly found that the stranger’s cock was ready to burst. She opened her mouth and pointed her chin down. As the man came—with notable velocity— Vor continued to pump the cum into her mouth. Of course, the distance from the cock to her lips meant that some ended up on her chest, but nobody involved minded that very much.

Satisfied that her tits were more fuckable than they were the previous day, Vor smiled up at her stranger/fucker. “Thank you,” Vor said. “I’ve always wanted to be able to do that.” She planted a kiss on the tip of his dick, which quickly evolved into a lingering suction. Vor sucked the last bits of cum from his cock and swallowed. Then she giggled. She didn’t really know why.

“Well, I should get to my station soon. It was nice fucking you!” Lieutenant Vor said, hurrying away. As she walked in her high heels, Vor hoped that the man was getting a nice view of her ass. As she enjoyed that thought, she absentmindedly relocated the drops of cum on her chest to her lips, where her eager tongue swallowed them down.

* * *

Counselor Dayna heard a soft knock on her door. When she opened it, three girls stood there, each wearing various pieces of skimpy lingerie—none of which even pretended to conceal their bodies.

“Counselor,” one said. She was a blonde that Dayna recognized. She didn’t remember which department she was in, but decided that that didn’t really matter anymore. “We just… we need used so badly!”

“Please help us!” another cried out.

“Come in, girls, come in,” Dayna said, stepping aside. As the girls passed, a man passing in the corridor looked at her. It was then that Dayna remembered that she was dressed in the net bodysuit she had ordered assembled yesterday. It has used barely a tenth of her ration, as it was effectively just string. That had left her plenty for the black platform heels that she now wore. As the man looked at her, Dayna felt the surge of lustful pleasure from him. Accompanying it was the flash of satisfaction from inside herself that now came whenever she was lusted after. She stayed in the doorway, letting him get as much of a view as he wanted until he passed. Then, she closed the door and turned to the girls inside.

“Girls, what can I do to help?” Dayna said to the three girls in her room.

“You know what men want,” one said. “Tell us how to make them happy.”

“You know what everyone wants!” another emphasized. “You can feel what gets them off.”

“We need to make them happy,” a third said. “Can you teach us how to be used to make them happy?”

“Well that’s different for each man…” Dayna said slowly. Then a thought struck her. “But… I wonder…”

* * *

The man was one that still had some horniness in him. Dayna could tell when he walked past. So many of them had been drained by an eager-to-please girl within the last hour. Dayna finally found one that had sucked off three hours ago and was feeling the desire again. She invited him into her room and he followed her.

“What’s this?” the man asked, upon finding the three girls standing at attention in Dayna’s coordidors.

“This is your lucky day,” Dayna said. “You get your pick.”

The man was confused, looking between Dayna—who he thought was going to fuck him—to the three girls, who looked even more fuckable. Dayna could feel the confusion and desire emanating from him.

“My pick?” the man said, but she knew that the words had already resonated. Further, Dayna could feel his emotions solidify. They were sharp, clear, and laid bare before her.

“And you have chosen,” Dayna said, stepping forward to the blonde. She placed a gentle hand on the blonde’s shoulder and eyed the man.

“This man wants you,” Dayna said. The blonde gasped in delight, but grew silent quickly as Dayna continued talking. “He wants you to ride his cock. As you ride, he wants you to tell him that you’re a bad girl who needs punished by his thick cock. And then, he wants you to beg him for permission to cum, which he will deny to you until he feels that you’ve been punished enough for being so bad.”

The man was shocked. He blinked, then blinked again. Finally, outrage covered his face. “That’s not true. That’s…”

“Isn’t it?” Dayna cut in seductively. “Because if it was what you wanted… even a little bit… I’m sure that she would happy to accommodate.”

“So happy,” the blonde beamed up at him. She stepped forward and took his hand. “Can I please do that for you? Can I be your bad girl?”

The man was taken back. The outrage at having his desires laid bare faded away at the prospect of having them fulfilled. “I…” he stammered, unable to bring himself to fully accept.

“For me?” the blonde said, dropping her voice. “Can you do it for me?” She stepped close and her tits brushed against the man’s chest. “I… I do think I’ve been bad. And I do think I need punished.” She looked up at him, her eyes full of wanton promise. “Can you punish me, sir? Can you make me good again?”

That was the breaking point. The man said nothing else, but took her hand and led her out of the room. Dayna smiled, knowing the delight that both of them would feel when they got back to his quarters.

As the door closed, Dayna turned to the other two girls. “Don’t worry, girls. We’ll get another man. And he’ll tell me what he wants.” She tapped her forehead, to emphasize the method. “And when it’s you, it’ll be because he wants you. Because you’re the thing that will most satisfy him. And I’ll be able to tell you exactly what he wants from you.”

One girl giggled excitedly. The other actually shuddered, as if hit by a miny orgasm by the thought of so thoroughly pleasuring a man.

Word got out fast. Once the girls heard that Counselor Dayna was matching girls with the men who most wanted them and telling the girls what the man wanted—what he truly wanted, underneath layers of deniable—there was an actual line of girls waiting for their opportunity to stand in Dayna’s quarters. Likewise, the men, upon hearing that they didn’t actually have to tell the gorgeous girls what they wanted to do to them in order for them to know exactly what it was, frequently Dayna’s chamber as well.

There was so much traffic that Counselor Dayna reached out to Commander Sporn with a request for a bigger space to arrange in. She suggested a few different places, most of which would easily fit thirty girls to be selected from and a line for those in waiting for the next selection.

Commander Sporn, however, asked her to visit him to discuss the matter. As a result, Dayna’s operation was put on pause temporarily, to the distraught of the dozens of girls waiting in line to be properly used.

* * *

Commander Sporn let Dayna in and closed the door behind her.

“I’m concerned about this operation you have going,” Commander Sporn said. “It seems to me to be dangerously close to a bordello

“I don’t think so,” Dayna said. “There’s no money being exchanged. Only willing participants. Eager participants, actually, on both sides.”

“Are they? Wiling?” Commander Sporn asked.

“Of course,” Dayna said. “If you tried to hold them back, the girls would be begging to be used. That’s actually how everything started.”

“But you are aware that they’re under the influence?” Commander Sporn asked.

“The influence? Of what?”

“Of the radiation from the green sun,” Sporn clarified.

“So… being in the sun makes them want to fuck?” Dayna said. “I think that women at beaches across the galaxy might relate the same feeling.”

“This is different…” Sporn said, but Dayna continued.

“Further, this is rather derogatory on your part,” Dayna said sharply. “After all, the men onboard are attempting to tell the women what they should want.”

“I’ve done no such thing,” Commander Sporn said dismissively.

“Of course you have,” Dayna said. “You’re attempting to tell women that they should not want to be fucked. That they should not want to pleasure men. But if they do want that… further, if they want to want that… what is that to you? I thought we were more enlightened that that.”

“I’m merely concerned…” Commander Sporn started to stay again, but Dayna cut him off.

“I’m aware of your concern,” Dayna said. “I can feel it. Even you have emotions, Commander. I can feel them.” Her voice had dropped to a purr and Dayna could actually feel the alarm in Commander Sporn—and the promising question in his emotions.

“I’ve been aware since this started about your curiosity,” Dayna continued. She stepped forward, giving Commander Sporn a full, unimpeded view of her body in the fishnets. She had woken up this morning feeling and looking five years younger. Her hips were smooth and round. Her tits were full and perky. Her skin was soft and milky. She looked as good as she ever had in her life, and she looked at the better because she reveled in it. “I’m aware of the lust you felt when I told you that women were horny. I’m aware of why you asked if I was feeling it too. You don’t want to let your desire out, but that’s okay. You don’t have to with me.”

“Counselor,” Commander Sporn said. Apparently, he was waiting for Dayna to interrupt him again, because when she didn’t he simply stood there awkwardly.

“Yes?” Dayna said teasingly. She slowly crossed the room, letting her fingers reach out and begin to play with Commander Sporn’s shirt. With a gentle tug, she pulled it untucked.

“I suppose it’s illogical to tell you that I don’t want this,” Commander Sporn said thoughtfully.

“Yes,” Dayna said, slowly dropping down to her knees. “Because I know exactly what you want.” She smiled up at him. “And I know that you are excited to see me down here. And that you’re also worried about repercussions. So much emotion for someone so stoic.” She reached out and kissed his crotch, planting the wet kiss on his pants and feeling the stiffness inside them. “So how about I just do what you want me to do. Because I want to do it. And you don’t say anything.” She giggled. “And if asked… well… I don’t know if ‘my lips are sealed’ is the right thing to say… but you get the idea.”

She felt the emotion in him. It was less obvious than the emotions of the fully human, but no less present. It felt to Dayna like a tender whisper instead of a shout. And it whispered agreement.

Dayna dropped the pants, letting the Commander’s cock free. It stood tall and proud, like an officer in and of itself. Dayna let her tongue run from the two balls, up the shaft, and to the tip. There, she planted a nice little kiss. She put another kiss at the base of the cock, letting the hard dick rest on her face. She could feel the pleasure coming from Commander Sporn. It told her what he wanted. It directed her and she obeyed. She teased as long as he wanted her to tease. She listened to the tiny emotions that told her to move a little left, or suck a little harder, or to work the other ball. She listened to the silent direction to lift her perky tits with her hands for a better view or to spit on his cock. On his command, in perfect sequence with his emotional desire, she looked up at him and gave him the biggest, most genuine smile. Pure joy. She wasn’t acting, either. She knew that she was being used by a man exactly how she wanted. That gave her all the reason in the universe to smile.

When Commander Sporn wanted, Dayna went to real work. She took the cock in her mouth, thrusting deep into her face, while still holding her tits up in display. He wanted it sloppy, so it was sloppy. As she worked, spit began to drip down onto her tits. She set a pace, listening as the desire grew stronger in the famously-stoic man. It was loud and clear to her—a firm direction and perfectly clear commands. He was truly in control of her every part, right down to exactly how deep she took his cock before reversing. His absolute control of her reinforced her perfect servitude, meeting a need and satisfying her in a way that she would never be able to explain to anyone who wasn’t a woman under that lovely green sun.

Commander Sporn silently ordered her further, taking the cock deeper. She obeyed, ignoring any of her body’s limits and choosing her lover’s pleasure instead. It didn’t matter if she gagged. It didn’t matter if she choked. It mattered that she obeyed. So she did.

Dayna felt what Commander Sporn wanted, but feared himself to do. That was no matter. She would do it for him. She reached out and took his hands, gently placing them on the back of her head. She applied pressure, helping him press against her head like he so wanted to do. She felt his hands tighten into her hair, accepting at last that she wanted this too.

Then, it wasn’t Dayna setting a pace or fucking her throat, it was him. Dayna opened obediently, letting Commander Sporn fuck her face how he wanted, listening to the commands he still issued for a different angle or a better view. They were perfectly in-sync and Dayna doubted that there had ever been a better fucktoy in the universe. There was never anyone else so committed to her man’s delight, so willing to do anything he wanted, and so capable of hearing exactly what that was.

For just a moment, Dayna felt something in Commander Sporn that she could never imagine before. She felt the purest, most animalistic, depraved desire. It was very unlike the man. But it was the best gift that Dayna could ever give a man.

Then, cum was everywhere. It was being pumped down her throat, erupting from her mouth, and dripping down onto her tits. She swallowed, obeying her Commander, but there was too much. Commander Sporn continued to fuck her face, now completely out of control of himself. He had given over to his emotions—his desire. And he was going to go until there was nothing left. That was good. Dayna wanted that too. She kept her mouth open, her neck slack, and her tits out while he fucked and pumped her face full of cum.

Finally, Commander Sporn stepped back. He took a deep breath and Dayna felt the myriad of emotions returning to the man. Shock at how much he had enjoyed that, fear at repercussions, satisfaction at the pleasure, and a general sense of awe.

Dayna smiled up at him, opened her mouth to show his cum, and then closed again to swallow. She leaned forward, cleaning his cock with her mouth. Commander Sporn looked down at her, silently watching. Then, once he was clean, Dayna put a single finger on her lips in a “quiet” motion. The words “my lips are sealed” passed between them silently. Then, Dayna stood.

“Commander, I believe it is in the interest of crew morale to continue my operation of connecting willing females with willing males. I call it a matchmaking service.”

Commander Sporn nodded thoughtfully. “While there is no precedent for a ship’s counselor offering such a service, I also see no rules against it. It is the prevue of the ship’s counselor to be mindful of crew morale. I grant your request and give you deck 8 for this operation. Will that be sufficient space?”

“Quite sufficient,” Dayna agreed. “And if you have any concerns over the matter, I am happy to return and continue the discussion.”

“Thank you, Counselor,” Commander Sporn said. Dayna smiled, licked her lips, and turned back to the door. Just before she reached it, however, Commander Sporn called out again.

“Of course… I do believe it would be inappropriate for you to participate,” Commander Sporn said.

Dayna turned back to him, an eyebrow raised.

“A ship’s counselor using her position to arrange romantic connections with herself? That would logically cause an uproar,” Commander Sporn observed.

“I see,” Dayna nodded, smiling coyly. “And if I should need to discuss my loneliness with a senior officer, would you be willing to participate in that role for me?”

“I would be honored,” Commander Sporn nodded. “And it will be kept just between us. Would that be sufficient in order to satisfy your…. Um… conversational needs?”

“If the conversations were as lively as this one, then yes, Commander. More than sufficient,” Dayna said.

“Excellent. Dismissed,” Commander Sporn said.

* * *

With deck eight committed to matchmaking, most of the off-duty males spent a good portion of their time there. All of the females, who were now universally replaced by males in their day-to-day duties, spent almost all of their waking hours there, hoping to satisfy their newly-realized life goals of being “used”.

Captain Tark thought that it had been a long three days. He had not yet allowed himself to participate in the revelry, despite being something of a frequent reveler himself. He wasn’t entirely sure about how he felt about the whole situation. But he did not forbid his subordinates from participating to their heart’s—or other relevant organs—delight.

Captain Tark decided he needed a drink. He found his way to deck ten, which was now much quieter now that deck eight was the primary place for ship companionship. He ordered a drink, sipped, and looked out across the large bar. In one of the nearby booths, a man sat at the table and a woman knelt below it. Captain Tark averted his gaze and walked to the other side.

That’s where he found Ensign Rochelle. He gasped when he saw her, completely taken back by her wardrobe. Instead of the uniforms that had taunted him with her hidden, perfect body, she now wore a lacey, net bra. In her sitting position, Captain Tark could barely see the G-string that she wore along with it. To be fair, there wasn’t much fabric to see. Captain Tark couldn’t help but see that his long-held suspicions were correct: her body was perfect.

Two thoughts occurred simultaneously in his mind. The first was that it was such a waste that her body was offlimits for men. The second was that she appeared to be affected just as much as the other women. What did that mean for someone of her persuasion?

Captain Tark took a long swig of his drink, completely oblivious what it was or what it tasted like, and then approached the table.

“Excuse me, Ensign,” Captain Tark said. “Are you alone?”

“Yes, Captain,” she said. Immediately, her eyes were down at the table. She made no effort to hide her body, despite her cute nipples being clearly visible through the lacey bra. Captain Tark did his very best to look at her face, which was also gorgeous.

“Are you okay?” Captain Tark asked. “You seem sad.”

“Not sad,” Ensign Rochelle said. “Confused. I’m so confused.”

“Would you like talk about it?” Captain Tark asked.

“Sure,” Ensign Rochelle shrugged and Captain Tark sat down across from her.

Captain Tark took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. Then, he did his best to project a steady voice and said, “What is bothering you?”

“I want to get fucked,” Ensign Rochelle said miserably. “Not even eaten out or fingered or something neutral. I want to be dicked down hard and rough. I want my pussy, ass, and mouth fucked raw by cock. And… and… I’ve never wanted anything like that before.” She clenched her jaw, looked up to the ceiling, and closed her eyes. “And I want it so bad.”

Captain Tark failed at resisting and took the opportunity to get a full eyeful of her stunning body. Was she entirely human? Or was she half some race that was put in the universe to taunt the libidos of man? Whatever effect the green sun was having, it was a miracle on a young, vibrant woman like Ensign Rochelle. Her hair was full. Her tits—a vision even before—could not have been a better ideal of total vibrant sexual delight. Her skin seemed to glow with invitation.

Tark managed to not be looking at her tits when Ensign Rochelle looked back down at him.

“I know you’ve wanted me,” she said evenly—even miserably.

“What? I…”

“Please, Captain,” Ensign Rochelle said softly. “You don’t have to hide it. You have a reputation at the academy, you know. And you’re not as good at hiding your gazes as you think you are. But you’ve always been a gentleman. I can’t help how I look and you can’t help but appreciate it. I never held it against you.” She took a deep breath, her ample tits heaving as she did. “But now… I want it… I want it so bad. I want you to see me. I want you to lust after me. I want you to possess me. And I want to fulfill your every fantasy.

“The last three days have been agony. All the girls around me getting used like they want, and me just sitting here confused. Why do I want this? Why do I need it so badly?”

“It’s the sun,” Command Tark said finally.

“What?”

“It’s the green sun. It’s the radiation that you found as soon as we got here. It’s affecting the women,” Captain Tark explained.

“Oh,” Ensign Rochelle said thoughtfully. Then, she smiled. “It’s making me like this? It’s making me horny? And straight?”

“I don’t know about straight, but…”

“Yeah, it’s not quite that…” Ensign agreed thoughtfully. Her pained confusion was apparently gone now, lost amidst scientific curiosity. “More like… I need to be defiled. To be used as a man’s plaything. His fucktoy. His personal whore. His…”

“I get it, Ensign,” Captain Tark cut in, silently kicking himself for doing so. How much more would she have offered his fantasies if he had allowed her to continue? But he wouldn’t have been able to continue an intelligent conversation if she had.

“I’m not betraying myself or my identity,” Ensign Rochelle said, working through the solution. “I’m simply having a normal biological reaction to solar radiation.” She closed her eyes, laughed, and said, “That makes so much more sense.” Captain Tark could see the resolution settle upon her. Her questions about sexuality and identity were resolved. The cognitive dissonance settled into two distinct parties: her current biology and her status quo identity. With that resolution came peace.

“I’m glad that’s a relief,” Captain Tark said, silently kissing away his hope of ever fucking her, but applauding his moral sensibilities.

“Is it permanent?” Ensign Rochelle asked.

“I don’t know,” Captain Tark said. “I think Commander Sporn is having science look into that now.”

“So I might go back to how I was?” Ensign Rochelle asked.

“You might,” Captain Tark said. “We just don’t know yet.”

“Then let’s not waste time,” Ensign Rochelle said. She shuffled out of the booth and stood. Captain Tark fought against his instinct ogling, with questionable success.

“What?” he said.

“Let’s go back to your quarters,” Ensign Rochelle suggested. “Let’s make the most of this.”

“I don’t understand,” Captain Tark said.

“Yes you do!” Ensign Rochelle giggled. She reached out, grabbing Captain Tark’s hands and pulling him from the booth. Once he was standing, she placed his hands on her chest, filling them with the loveliest pair of tits that Captain Tark had ever felt. “Come on. You want me. I need it. Let’s go fuck.” She giggled.

“Ensign… I don’t know…”

“The green sun is affecting us, isn’t it? So it’s not for real. We can do whatever want, then it all goes away when we leave,” Ensign Rochelle said.

“Well… it’s not affecting me,” Captain Tark said.

“That’s absurd,” Ensign Rochelle laughed. “Of course it is. Come on, let’s go.”

“No, I’m serious. It’s not affecting men,” Captain Tark insisted.

Ensign Rochelle turned to him, her body on full display. She reached up one hand into his hair, gently pushing his head down so he got a full view. It was the view that he had always wanted of her. And it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen through all his travels in space.

“Of course it’s affecting you,” Ensign Rochelle repeated. “No man could retain his composure in the radiation of the green sun.” She smiled, leaned forward, and kiss his cheek. Then she whispered in his ear. “And no one expects you to.”

Captain Tark didn’t say anything—didn’t dare trust himself to.

Ensign Rochelle kept her hand where it was, demanding his continued leer. She said, “I’ve heard stories. Terrible forces, deadly diseases, time rifts, time loops, wars, battles… you’ve been through so much. I don’t think a little green sun is too much to ask for.” She giggled, then added in a low voice, “I think you’ve earned a little adventure like this one, don’t you?”

She giggled again, then let go of him. “But how about you decide? I’m going to go back to your quarters. If they’re unlocked when I get there, then I’ll know you want some company. And if they’re not, then I’ll probably go down to deck eight and get it from someone who wants me less than you. But I’d prefer to be used by the one who will get the most satisfaction out of me.”

She let go of Captain Tark and started walking, knowing she had his complete attention as she walked away.

Captain Tark picked up his drink from the table and sipped again. He pretended to think. He pretended to resist. But all he could think about was how long he could pretend before she got to his door. Because she and him both knew it should be unlocked when she got there. And Captain Tark would never forgive himself if he waited too long and some ensign or lieutenant took the reward that had been offered to him as Captain.

Captain Tark stopped kidding himself by the time his drink was done, which wasn’t long at all. He pressed his communicator and said, “Computer, if Ensign Rochelle comes to my door, make sure it’s unlocked.” There was a confirmation chirp from the communicator and Captain Tark felt his heart jolt in excitement.

He went to the bar, ordered a bottle of wine and two glasses. Then, he started back to his room. Maybe he did deserve this. Maybe being Captain could have its perks after all.

* * *

Commander Sporn got the last report from the chief Science Officer. The man was jittery as Commander Sporn read through it. Commander Sporn looked up at him and said, “Is something the matter, Officer?”

“No, Commander,” he said. “I guess I… I’m just eager to get off shift.”

“Big night planned?” Commander Sporn said conversationally, flipping through the datapad.

“I was just going to head to deck eight and see some of the night life I’ve been hearing about,” the Science Officer said. “It sounds like a great time.”

“Yes, I believe I will be recommending our ship’s counselor a commendation for her performance today,” Commander Sporn said. “You can be dismissed. It looks like you’ve done a very thorough job of this.”

“Thank you, Commander,” the science officer said, hurrying out of the room.

Commander Sporn followed him out slowly, reading from the report as he moved. He started towards Captain Tark’s quarters. The Captain would want to know about this.

* * *

Captain Tark arrived at his door and pressed the open button. He stepped in, feeling his heart jumping inside his chest. Three days ago he had jerked off to the thought of this woman, thinking he would never do any better than that. Today, he was going to do a lot better than that.

Warm candlelight greeted him as he entered. The smell of lavender was in the air. Soft music from some faraway race wafted softly through the space. The door closed behind him and Captain Tark turned to the bed.

Sitting in his bed was the goddess herself. She lay on her back, centered in the bed. She was reversed, so her legs were by the pillows. One was bent and the other was stretched into the air, clearly showcasing her toned legs and the heels that adorned her. Her arms were spread wide, filling the bed and holding her in place. Her head was slightly off the foot of the bed, leaning back and looking at him upside down. A teasing, tender tongue worked its way around her lips, then she opened wide in clear invitation.

Captain Tark set the wine down on the table, barely able to focus enough to prevent the two glasses from crashing down. As he watched her, Ensign Rochelle switched elevated legs, gracefully dropping one and raising the other.

“I am very flexible,” she observed coyly. She smiled and arched her back, giving Captain Tark a better view of her tits and descending her head a little farther. “I know you’ve waited a long time for this. And I’m ready for whatever you want.” She opened her mouth again and Captain Tark accepted the invited image into his mind of drilling into her mouth while she was in this position. She would take it, too, he knew. She had never touched a dick before, yet she was willing to get facefucked by his right now. All of her, all for him. He almost accepted the offer. But he decided that if he was going to have his fantasy—his greatest fantasy—he was going to have all of it.

“Soon,” Captain Tark said. “But I have more in mind.” He smiled wickedly and added, “More that I want from you.”

“It’s all yours,” Ensign Rochelle smiled. She rolled over, arching again to push he ass into the air. “Just say the word.”

“Come here,” Captain Tark ordered.

* * *

Commander Sporn finished the report on the way to the elevator. He closed the datapad, stepped onto the elevator, and called out the command for the floor where the Captain’s room was. The door closed and the elevator began to move.

* * *

The rationed assembler energy only applied to the women. Besides, being Captain came with privileges. He commanded the assembler to produce a leash and collar. Then, he looked down at Ensign Rochelle’s body. As beautiful as she looked in that outfit, Captain Tark knew what he wanted more.

“Strip,” he commanded. There was no “please”. No niceness at all. They both knew that they were beyond that. What was happening here was deadly serious.

Ensign Rochelle quickly stripped off the lace bra and the corresponding g-string. She wore now only the black heels, which Captain Tark decided she could keep on. He took the collar, wrapped it around her neck, and clasped it closed. Then he took the leash in his hand, pulled it slightly, and saw as her body reacted, moving forward. The control implied thrilled him.

“You are my property,” he informed the nude, blonde goddess before him.

“I am your property,” she replied and Captain Tark felt the elation bubble up from just those words.

“You are my obedient slave,” he said.

“I am your obedient slave,” she said. She smiled, looking him in the eyes with a total lack of shame or self consciousness. “You are my master.”

“Good,” Captain Tark said with another tug on the leash. “What else?”

“Your word is law,” Ensign Rochelle said without even stopping to think about it. “Your desires… your smallest whim… is my personal mission to fulfill.” She smiled. “I am your toy. I invite you to play with me, Master.”

“Very good,” Captain Tark said, feeling the desperate, demanding desire in him building.

* * *

The elevator doors opened and Commander Sporn stepped out. He looked to the right, then to the left, but the hallway was quiet. He supposed most people were either in their quarters or on deck eight, then to be in their quarters. He thought that he might have Dayna come to him again tonight and give him a report on crew morale.

With the happy thought in-mind, he turned left and started again towards the Captain’s quarters.

* * *

Captain Tark tied the knot firmly behind his slave’s hand, fastening her hands together. He then wound the cord around her wrist, working up her arms. He stopped every four or five rounds to tie it again, ensuring she would remain very still.

He didn’t need to tie her, of course. She was obedient, subservient, and desperately submissive. But it was the visual reminder of all of that that the Captain wanted. And because she was obedient, subservient, and desperately submissive, she had no complaint.

Once complete, Captain Tark stepped slowly around her, admiring her as if a piece of art.

“I’m going to defile you,” Captain Tark informed her. He wasn’t even aware of the words until they had left his mouth. They were beyond everything but the pureness of desire.

“I am yours to defile,” Slave Rochelle said. Captain Tark took the ballgag from the assembler and went to her. Her mouth was open in obedience before he told her to. The ball was smoothly into her mouth. It wouldn’t stay there long, of course. Captain Tark would have uses for that mouth. But everything right now was about claiming her as property—confirming to both of them that she was his to do with what he wanted. ‘Toy’, Captain Tark thought with a smile. He liked that.

* * *

Commander Sporn rounded the corner, paused in front of the door, turned on the datapad for a moment, and ensured that the report was on page one. Then he straightened his uniform and stepped forward.

* * *

Captain Tark stood behind his slave, letting his hands wander up her smooth skin. Nothing had ever felt so full of promise as her body felt right now. He let his hands settle around her tits, where they overflowed out of his palm. He squeezed, eliciting a moan of pleasure from Slave Rochelle. With the squeeze of her breasts, she bent her knees and let her ass wander backwards. Captain Tark’s cock, throbbing through his pants, neatly found its way between her cheeks. Slave Rochelle continued to drop, giving a long, tender stroke to the concealed cock.

“Good bitch,” Captain Tark hissed in his slave’s ear. Then he freed one hand from its spot on her tit, backed up, and delivered a firm slap across her ass. The sound of the smack was louder than it should have been. And echoed. And sounded metallic.

Captain Tark frowned, suddenly feeling his fantasy wavering in front of him. Then, the sound came again and Captain Tark realized it was a knocking on his door.

“Oh, shit,” Captain Tark said softly.

“Captain?” a voice called. “It’s Commander Sporn. I have the final report.”

Captain Tark looked at the naked girl in the room, then again at the door. His duties as Captain demanded that he look at the report soon, but what would Commander Sporn think of this? Captain Tark reached for the ballgag from behind.

“Open,” Captain Tark told her as he reached for the clasp. The door chirped confirmation and slid open. Captain Tark’s heart leapt and then dropped.

Commander Sporn stepped in, looking down at the datapad. He looked up, saw Captain Tark, then Ensign Rochelle tied, stripped, gagged, and with Captain Tark behind her.

“Oh, hello Ensign,” Commander Sporn said evenly. Then, he nodded to the Captain.

“Captain, I have the final report. I thought that you might want to review it. I apologize, I did not know you have company.”

“That’s alright, Commander,” the Captain said sheepishly, stepping around the girl. “Perhaps it’s actually a good idea for you to give me the topline notes right now.” He glanced again at the girl, then looked back at his first officer. “Before we finalize some things.”

“Certainly,” Commander Sporn nodded. “The green sun is indeed emitting a radiation that is accelerating the sexual drive of the female members of every humanoid species. We knew that. It’s having positive biological effects on their bodies, apparently reinforcing the areas of themselves that promote sexual competition. Again, we knew that. It does appear that the effects are temporary and, if the green sun’s radiation is blocked from the female, our models suggest that she will return to normal after a few weeks time. It’s possible that increased exposure to the radiation may have longer-lasting effects, but that would require additional research to determine more fully.”

“Are the women drugged?” Captain Tark asked.

“Drugged, sir?” Commander Sporn said.

“Is this a psychosis of chemical effect? Something akin to a drug?”

“Oh, no Captain,” Commander Sporn said. “The women are behaving under their own free will. Admittedly, the effects of the sun are changing priorities, but biological response to natural occurrences hardly constitutes a breach of free will. And the sun and its corresponding energies are an entirely natural, if unusual, phenomenon.”

“Oh,” Captain Tark said thoughtfully. “Is it harmful?”

“Not at all,” Commander Sporn said. “In fact, as I mentioned, it’s actually beneficial to the women exposed form a health standpoint.”

Captain Tark nodded thoughtfully.

“Captain,” Commander Sporn added, “might I suggest that the questions you’re asking may be more derived of a repressive, puritanical origin of your civilization. Sexual liberation is something to be embraced by the more… evolved societies.”

“Yes,” Captain Tark nodded thoughtfully. “I suppose that makes sense.”

“Well I don’t mean to disrupt your evening,” Commander Sporn said. “I can leave the report for you to review at your leisure.”

“Commander,” Captain Tark said after a moment. There was a greater resolve in his voice. “This effect is unprecedented in the universe. It’s possible that this is the only place where it can be studied and understood.”

“I agree,” Commander Sporn nodded.

“How important do you think this research is?” Captain Tark asked.

“Well, logically,” Commander Sporn said, his high eyebrows furrowed, “this has broadreaching implications, a single opportunity for study, and potential medical applications beyond count. I should think that this research is of the topmost importance.” He paused, smiled only slightly, and added, “It’s our responsibilities as explorers to investigate further.”

“I agree,” Captain Tark said, his eyes drifting back to the tied goddess in his living room. “Please alert Starcorp that we intend to continue our research into this phenomenon for potential medical applications.”

“Yes Captain,” Commander Sporn said.

“What do you think, Ensign?” Captain Tark said, looking at the blonde beauty. “Do you want to stay here? Do you want to continue studying the green star?”

Slowly, Ensign Rochelle nodded. A drip of spit found its way around the ballgag in her mouth, dripping down her chin.

“You don’t want to leave?” Captain Tark asked.

Ensign Rochelle shook her head. Her long full hair bobbed back and forth as she did.

“You’re sure?” Captain Tark asked.

Ensign Rochelle nodded again. Again, the hair bobbed up and down. The chain around he neck jingled slightly with the movement.

“Good,” Captain Tark said. “I applaud your commitment.” He turned back to Commander Sporn. “Anything else, Commander?”

“Just one thing, and it can wait,” Commander Sporn said.

“No, no,” Captain Tark said. “I might be sleeping in late tomorrow, so we should resolve business now.”

“Well I thought that Counselor Dayna deserved a commendation for her management of crew morale,” Commander Sporn said.

“Excellent idea,” Captain Tark said. “Draw up the commendation and I shall sign it.”

“Excellent,” Commander Sporn said. “I’m sure Counselor Dayna will be delighted. I’ll tell her when I debrief her this evening.”

“Very good, Commander,” Captain Tark nodded.

“Have a good evening, Captain,” Commander Sporn said.

“You too, Commander,” Captain Tark said. Commander Sporn set the datapad down on the table, next to the wine and empty glasses. Then he left. The door closed behind him.

Captain Tark walked to the table, opened the bottle of wine, and poured himself a glass. He sipped it, smiling at the taste. He looked again at Slave Rochelle, admiring the perfect curves of her body. He reached out with one hand, sampling, squeezing, and indulging himself.

“You want me to use you?” Captain Tark asked.

Slave Rochelle nodded fervently. Her beautiful eyes expressed a desperate plea.

“You want me to fuck you?”

Vigorous nodding of her head.

“There’s a lot I want to do to you,” Captain Tark observed mildly. He took a sip of his wine. “And I get to do it all?”

Slave Rochelle nodded her head furiously. The blonde hair bobbed up and down.

“Well then let’s get started,” Captain Tark said, setting the glass of wine down on the table.

Her pussy was soaked. His dick slid in easy. As he fucked her pussy, pleased, whoreish moans escaped around the edges of her ballgag. Her hands tied behind her back made her roll back and forth as he fucked her. Combined with her legs latched around him, it provided a nice back and forth drilling feeling. He tugged on the leash as he fucked her, reminding them both who was in control.

When he was finished there, he flipped her over. He grabbed her tied hands like reins and rode her ass with his cock. Her words from the bar echoed in his ear: “I need to be defiled. To be used as a man’s plaything.”

He put her on her knees, took out her ballgag, and shoved his dick in deep. With her head against the bed, the Captain drilled deep into her throat. Just once, he pulled out his cock and let her get a deep breath. She took the breath, then squealed, “More please, Master!”. He granted the request and continued to fuck her face.

Round and round, they went. When Captain Tark got tired, he sat back on a chair and let Slave Rochelle wrap her fantastic tits around his cock. She jerked him off with her chest, letting a filthy stream of words pour out of her lips as she did it. She told him that she was only happy when he was using her. That the harder he used her, the filthier he treated her, the happier she was. That she was his personal whore, his private slut, and his obedient slave. She told him that she wanted to be used by him forever. He played with the leash as she did the work.

Hole by hole, he claimed her as his own. He came in her pussy. He came in her ass. He came all over her face. He came on her lovely, massive tits. He came in her mouth and watched her swallow. She was perfect, Captain Tark knew. She fucked like a whore, then begged for more. She gave him everything he could ever want and more. And with each delightful orgasm, he came where no man had cum before.