My partner was yanking and thrusting a flight stick with all of her might, fighting an intense starship battle on her computer monitor.

“Whatcha doin?” I teased.

“Shut up,” she demanded, her focus entirely on the fight.

I stood back, hands behind me, watching her struggle.

It was a tight battle. She only pulled away by the skin of her teeth. But she lived to fight another day.

“Phew!” She relaxed. “Sorry. Game’s called Freespace 2, it’s this old space flight sim…”

As she continued infodumping, I had a wonderful, horrible idea.

“Babe,” I interrupted, and snapped my fingers. “Sleep.”

Her words slurred into entranced silence.

~

“Ensign, status report,” I commanded.

In her mind, she was fighting an enemy pilot whose skill was equal to or slightly higher than her own, and she was being outmaneuvered. In reality, her eyes were closed, and she was twisting and tilting her erect, leaking cock.

“Ngh…” she half-moaned, half-grunted. “I can’t shake them.”

“Relax…” I put my hand on her shoulder. I don’t know if she noticed the sensation. “Focus. Use your instincts. They’re bound to slip up eventually.”

She panted with unconscious pleasure. “They’re close… I’ve almost got target lock on.”

“Steady…” I said tensely. “Steady…”

“Target locked, commander!”

“Fire!”

She came explosively all over the towel she was sitting on.

“Target…” she panted, “target down.”

“Good work,” I said. “Now… pilot… down.”

She fell back limp and loose onto my lap.

I giggled as silently as I could. This was easily the dumbest idea for a trance I’d ever had. But it was also so much fun.

I began her wakening routine.

“2… giving one last stretch, aaaaaaand 1! Wake!”

“Oh… oh fuck.”

She noticed her mess.

“God, that was so dumb,” she sighed with a giggly annoyance.

“Come on, I had fun!” I replied.

“Yeah, I did too.”

She snuggled up to me.

“Good work, ensign. Mission accomplished.”

She snorted.