“There we go,” Dr. Hiraga told the mess officer lying in her examination chair. “All done.”

Mess officer Uma Vilchis yawned and stretched as she woke. She blinked a few times. For some reason, she was left with the persistent impression of bright, swirling lights shining straight into her eyes.

“Huh,” she said sleepily. “That really was painless.”

“Is that what people have been saying?” Dr. Hiraga smiled professionally as she made notes on her dataslate.

Uma nodded. “I’ve been hearing all about it for weeks.”

“Weeks,” Dr. Hiraga repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Yes, I suppose it has been, hasn’t it? I’ve been too busy to keep track, but we’re finally almost done with the imp- I mean, the inoculation. You’re pretty much the last one.”

“The last one.” Uma sighed as she sat up. “Isn’t that just typical?”

“I’m sorry?” Dr. Hiraga said, taken aback.

“Oh, it’s fine.” Uma shrugged. “It makes sense. I guess the mess officer really is about the last person who needs an inoculation against some kind of alien virus.” She visibly bucked herself up and slapped a forced smile on her face. “My apologies, doctor. I shouldn’t make any of this your problem. I’m just… well, it’s been a long tour. Not a lot of excitement involved for someone like me.”

Not a lot of excitement back home either, although Uma left that part unsaid. The source of Uma’s maudlin mood was simple: she was bored and felt hopelessly overlooked. A solution, unfortunately, was far less simple. As always, Uma tried to focus on her responsibilities as mess officer. On good food, and on being a warm and friendly face to all the weary crewmen who came to the Inyx’s mess hall for rest and succor. Uma liked to think that she played a small but critical part in keeping morale high and making sure the ship continued to operate at peak performance.

But keeping the smile on her face was getting harder and harder. The long tour was wearing on people. The crew was tired and irritable. They didn’t want to chat with their friendly mess officer. And lately, there had been another change in mood, growing steadily with each passing day. Uma couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but it was like everyone else was in on a secret joke Uma simply wasn’t privy to.

Most of the crew were probably hoping that their mission would come to an end soon and that they’d be able to return home and see their friends and families again. For Uma, though, that prospect offered little comfort. She had a family, yes. Kids, even.  But in recent years, her personal life had seemed just as unrewarding as her professional one. It wasn’t bad, exactly. Just like being the mess officer on the Inyx wasn’t bad.

Uma just needed a little excitement in her life.

“Not a lot of excitement, huh?” came a voice. “Why don’t I help you with that?”

Uma looked around sharply. She could have sworn that she and the doctor had been alone in medbay, but now there was a third woman in the room with them. Uma couldn’t imagine where she might have come from. It was like she had just appeared out of thin air. Strangely, Dr. Hiraga had no response whatsoever to the stranger’s sudden appearance.

Stranger still, there was something familiar about her. Uma could have sworn she recognized her from somewhere. Was she on the crew? She didn’t look like it, not with those technopunk clothes and that unruly, electric green hair. Maybe she had been in one of the briefings that the captain circulated from time to time. Uma barely paid attention to those. They weren’t particularly relevant to the mess hall, after all.

“Hi,” Uma said, for want of anything better to say. “Do I know you?”

“Sure you do,” the punk woman promised as she slouched her way across the room. There was something distinctly sleazy about the way she spoke. “I’m the… uh… how about the ‘uniform compliance officer’?” She snickered. “Yeah. I’m that.”

Uma stopped trying to smile. Something was clearly wrong here. “That doesn’t make sense. The Alliance doesn’t have uniform compliance officers.”

The woman just winked mischievously and lifted her hand with a flourish. “You do now.”

She snapped her fingers.

At once, the room around Uma disappeared, drowned out by a vast, spinning, kaleidoscopic pattern that immediately tugged at her will, promising to steal it away. With her last few moments of consciousness, Uma reflected that, before, she’d been wrong. The lights hadn’t been shining into her eyes. They’d been coming from behind them.

Then, even that thought was gone. The holo-implant Dr. Hiraga had just planted in Uma’s brain drowned out her conscious mind, leaving her nothing more than an empty vessel for whatever thoughts and feelings Wasp wanted to pour into her.
 
And once Uma was completely hypnotized, the spiral began to pour. Shifting with every passing instant, it encoded its visual pattern with layers and layers of information that swiftly reprogrammed Uma’s mind. The implant had long since been perfected. It admitted no resistance. Within just moments, Uma’s deeply-formed ideas about propriety, hierarchy, and common sense were all formed anew.

Eventually, the implant switched off and Uma returned to consciousness. Blearily, the mess officer rubbed her eyes. The lingering effects were far worse than those of the procedure.

She frowned, confused. The lingering effects of what?

“I’m… I’m sorry,” she said slowly, to the strange woman still standing in front of her. “I must have… I must have… um…”

“Don’t worry about it,” the woman offered a touch impatiently. “I was just telling you, I’m the uniform compliance officer. Uniform Compliance Officer Wasp.”

“Wasp,” Uma echoed slowly. Why did that name sound so familiar? Then she remembered, and it all fell into place. Of course it was familiar! Uma rose to her feet and saluted stiffly, embarrassed at her lapse of memory. “Uniform compliance officer! Forgive me.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Wasp said. She was grinning from ear to ear. “At ease.”

Uma relaxed gratefully. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder why the uniform compliance officer had come here, of all places. Moreover, though, she was simply embarrassed to have forgotten about her at first. Forgetting about such an important, high-ranking officer was a major faux pas. Fortunately, Wasp didn’t seem inclined to pull her up on it. Instead, she swiped the dataslate out of Dr. Hiraga’s hand and started reading it. The doctor still didn’t react.

“You’re… right, the mess officer!” Wasp nodded slowly. “Uma Vilchis. I remember you from the crew roster. Not from the holodeck, though. Not much of a fantasy life, huh?”

“I suppose not, sir,” Uma replied.

“That’s kind of a shame.” Wasp made a point of looking Uma up and down, plainly ogling her body. She wolf-whistled appreciatively. “I wish we’d gotten to know each other sooner. Could have had some fun with you. There aren’t a lot of women built like you on military starships.”

Uma shifted uncomfortably. The way Wasp was talking to her and looking at her seemed unmistakably sexual and inappropriate - but who was she to question such a high-ranking officer?

“Well, you know what people say, sir,” she laughed nervously. “Never trust a skinny cook.”

As mess officer, that distrust was one thing Uma never had to worry about. Uma was visibly, undeniably full-figured and plump, and always had been. It was all over: her face, her chest, her belly, her thighs. Uma was, quite simply, fat. She didn’t dislike it, even if it sometimes made her self-conscious. Her figure had always been natural to her - not helped, admittedly, by the same love of food that had guided her to becoming a mess officer. A pair of pregnancies had only made matters worse, although, from the whispers that reached her ears, Uma understood that there were more than a few women aboard the Inyx who quietly appreciated the way the extra weight sat on her hips and her ass.

It was, admittedly, true, that her physique wasn’t quite up to military regs. But even stern commanders like Captain Vasser tended to let that particular regulation slip. Nobody wanted to see a skinny cook in the mess hall — and besides, it wasn’t like she was in any danger of being sent into combat.

“Anyway,” Uma added, hoping to put an end to Wasp’s scrutiny. “I think you’ll find my uniform entirely up to code, sir.”

“Hm,” Wasp mused. “Yeah, actually, no. It’s not.”

“It’s not?” Uma blinked, dismayed. She didn’t understand. She was always fastidious in her presentation. She looked down at herself, but saw nothing amiss.

“See, there’s actually a brand new uniform for the mess officer.” Wasp’s grin somehow widened still further. She could barely keep herself from cackling. “It’s just come into force. It’s meant to help liven things up a bit. That’s why I’m here, actually. To bring you up to speed.” She threw an arm around Uma’s shoulder. Uma was too distracted to register that she was a hardlight hologram. “Come with me. Let’s get you fitted.”

***

"D-d-d-,” Uma stammered, blushing so deep she thought her face would melt as the sheer, unrelenting embarrassment she felt robbed her of her words, “d-d-do I h-h-have to?”

“Yes,” Wasp replied impatiently. “It’s the new uniform. Now, hurry up!”

Hands trembling, Uma could only nod meekly and keep working the long, red, soft rope around her own body. Completing the ties - the shibari, Wasp had called it - hadn’t been easy. It was all new to Uma, but she was good with knots, at least, and Wasp had been a very insistent teacher. 

As she wrapped the latest length of rope around her thigh, pulling it tight so it pressed into her soft flesh, Uma once again checked the diagram Wasp had pulled up for her on the dataslate. It was exacting, and following it had taken forever. Uma couldn’t believe how long these regulations were getting, and she didn’t understand why they were being posted on illicit holonet sites - but who was she to question the uniform compliance officer? At least it seemed like she was almost done, but Uma wasn’t sure if that was a curse or a blessing. On the one hand, Uma was keen to put this humiliating ritual behind her.

On the other, if she kept going, she’d at least have more rope covering her body up.

Once Uma finished the knot, Wasp stepped back, looked the mess officer up and down, and clapped her hands together out of sheer glee. “Oh, yes! Looking good, girl.”

Uma wanted to shrink into her own skin.

“I c-can’t,” she bleated. “Y-you expect me to g-go out there? L-like this?”

All the way down her torso and around her hips, Uma was bound tight with rope. It fell about her in symmetrical loops, artfully designed to best accentuate every aspect of the female form. The ties around her breasts pinched and lifted them, making them seem bigger, more prominent, infinitely soft and inviting. Across her stomach, the rope was worked into a diamond pattern, like netting, drawing attention to the pale, alluring skin beneath. Around her hips, the ropes pulled tight, pressing against Uma’s curves and reminding her of their presence with every step.

On any woman, they would have looked unmistakably sexual. On Uma, it was on another level.

At Wasp’s instruction, Uma had pulled the ropes particularly tight around her prodigiously soft body. The effect was magnificent. Everywhere, Uma’s plump body bulged visibly between the gaps in the ropes. It was like she was begging for all who saw her to reach out and sink their fingers into her needy, yielding flesh. Around her stomach, it was especially visible. The rope bondage acted like lingerie, framing and shaping Uma’s belly. It made her look like the very image of fertility.

Nothing could have been more desperately embarrassing.

“It’s your uniform, Miss Vilchis,” Wasp drawled, rising to her feet. “What kind of Alliance officer objects to their uniform?”

“It’s… that’s…”

Uma’s mouth kept moving, but her brain froze up, paralyzed by the absurd contradictions in what she was hearing. It was ridiculous for rope bondage to serve as a military uniform. And yet, it did. That was what the uniform compliance officer was telling her. She could not think otherwise.

“B-but…” Uma said frantically, searching for any way out. “It’s… it’s indecent!”

“Indecent?” Wasp laughed. “Is that any way to talk about your uniform?”

Uma squeaked. “N-no, sir!”

“You should be proud of your uniform!” Wasp declared. “Isn’t that right?”

Uma turned an even deeper shade of red and nodded miserably. “Y-yes, sir. But… I… proud?”

Wasp shrugged, a cruel smirk writ large on her face. “I simply don’t see the issue.”

Uma squeezed her legs together and shivered as she felt rope rubbing against her skin. She knew Wasp was right — she was in charge of uniforms, after all — but she couldn’t help reaching for excuses all the same. “B-but it might… wouldn’t it… um… d-distract the rest of the crew?”

Wasp sighed theatrically. “Maybe, admittedly, this is just a little bit too early for something quite so… open. Even if the rest of the crew have been implanted, they aren’t broken in quite yet.”

Uma had no idea what she was talking about, but a sigh of relief was on her lips as she sensed Wasp’s resolve wavering.

“Fine,” Wasp said eventually. “Have it your way.”

“I can wear a different uniform?” Uma asked hastily.

“Oh, no.” Wasp’s smirk returned with a vengeance. Uma couldn’t help but be struck by the feeling that she’d stepped into some kind of trap. “Not quite.”

Just a few minutes later, Uma was walking gingerly through the Inyx’s corridors, heading for the mess hall - and desperately praying that her embarrassment didn’t show in her face.

They can’t see, she told herself. They can’t see what I’m wearing.

“Good afternoon, Uma!” someone called out, as Uma rounded a corner. A crewman. Uma didn’t know their name, but she did recognize them. A regular friendly face at the mess.

“G-good afternoon!” As she replied, Uma tried her hardest to sound casual. It didn’t work. Her voice was an octave higher than usual.

Mercifully, the crewman didn’t comment. A strange look passed over their face, but they kept walking without saying another word.

Uma sighed with relief - but her relief was dashed as soon as she walked past another vent, and felt a breath of cool air passing over her skin. It was an unpleasant reminder of just how naked she truly was.

She was still dressed in the uniform Wasp had prescribed for her: intricate, bright red rope bondage, artistically wound around her entire body. The only difference was that nobody else could see it. Before sending her down to work her regular shift at the mess, Wasp had issued Uma with a portable holographic projector which, attached to one of the ropes on her torso, projected a perfect simulacrum of her old, standard-issue Alliance uniform.

In a way, it was an ideal solution. Uma’s modesty was perfectly preserved.

And in a way, it solved absolutely nothing.

For instance, as Uma arrived at the mess and busied herself preparing meals for the crew who were just about to come off their shifts, she found she couldn’t quite ignore the way one of those ropes snaked up between her thighs and pressed against her sex every time she moved.

More and more, it was becoming a distraction. A sharp bite of unwelcome pleasure that nipped at her over and over again, threatening to turn her words into moans and fill her face with unwholesome color.

Why did she have to wear this under the hologram? Uma kept asking herself that question. And she kept reminding herself of the only answer she had:

It was her uniform. She had no choice.

All Uma could do was take deep breaths in a bid to stay calm as she started serving the crew of the Inyx their meals. One by one, the weary crewmen came to queue up in front of Uma so she could dole out the meals she had carefully prepared earlier that day. As usual, most of them had little more to offer in return than a nod or a half-grunted acknowledgment. Normally, that would have gotten on Uma’s nerves.

Now, she was desperately thankful.

They couldn’t see what she was wearing. But reminding herself of that did Uma little good when she could still feel the cool air against her bare skin all over her body. When she could still feel the ropes. Whenever Uma looked down at herself, the illusion seemed paper-thin.

She was naked. Worse than naked.

And it was driving her crazy.

Every new face became a source of excitement. Every interaction became a fight to keep a cool, composed demeanor. It didn’t matter what she told herself. Her brain would not accept that she was clothed. It knew the truth and screamed it at her, drawing sweat from her brow and slapping an uneven, nervous smile on her face.

“Hey, Uma!” came a familiar voice. Uma looked up and recognized a crewman — Rhea — who always took the time to chat. “How’s your shift treating you?”

“G-good!” Uma squeaked, then winced. Her voice was horrifically uneven, and elicited a perplexed look in response. Uma’s anxiety doubled. She felt it in her gut as a tight knot. “Um. How’s… yours?”

“Fine, I guess,” Rhea replied. Normally, their exchange might have ended there. But it was too late. Uma had aroused her close attention. “You OK? You seem a little… off.”

“N-nope!” Uma tried even harder to control her voice. It only made matters worse. “I-I mean… yes! I’m OK. Just… um…”

She tried to think of an excuse. Her mind short-circuited. The only thought thundering through her head was a single conviction, irrational but all-consuming.

She can see. Rhea can see. She can see everything.

Rhea’s eyes flicked up and down over Uma’s plump physique. Uma could feel them stabbing into her, sharp as needle points. They seemed to strip away the ephemeral guise of the hologram, leaving Uma’s tender, soft flesh bared for the shocked, lustful gazes of all who had come to the mess.

“We’ve been out here so long,” Rhea offered sympathetically. “Maybe you should take a little more rec time? I’m sure the captain would-“

A cough from somewhere back in the queue interrupted them. “Hurry up!”

“Oops.” Mercifully, Rhea hurried along, freeing Uma from her scrutiny. “Sorry!”

Uma only had a moment to gather herself before she needed to serve the next crewman. As she did, she was panting. She couldn’t center herself. She just kept falling into the desperate thrill of her new uniform.

Then it occurred to her: wasn’t this exactly the excitement she had been craving?

She choked down on the thought at once, guided by two contradictory impulses. One told her sternly that she wasn’t the kind of pervert who would take excitement from something so utterly humiliating. The other whispered that she was exactly that kind of pervert if she found something as mundane as her uniform sexually humiliating.

Uma frowned, assailed by a moment of dizzy confusion. It was like she was on the cusp of grasping some deeper truth - but it never came.

And with the seemingly never-ending queue of hungry crewmen, she had no time to dwell on it. Uma turned to serve the next, and the next, and the next, and with each one, the anxious heat in her body only grew and grew. By the time the next familiar face appeared at the counter, the rope between her legs was pressing so hard against her cunt, every movement was blissful agony.

“Good day, Uma,” said Lieutenant Kuznetzov, greeting the mess officer with a warm smile. “Everything running smoothly as usual?”

It was only recently that Lieutenant Kuznetzov had become one of Uma’s reliably friendly faces. Before, she’d been one of the least approachable of all; a butch, imposing woman with an unreadable face and no words to offer but criticisms. Now, she was unfailingly bright and sunny. She’d grown her hair out into an appealing bob, set off against a full face of makeup. Instead of her uniform, she wore a pretty little dress that set off all her body’s feminine features.

Or was that simply her uniform now? Uma couldn’t be sure.

“Of c-course,” Uma whimpered. As unthreatening as she was now, Lieutenant Kuznetzov’s eyes still felt like hot knives. Uma shivered all over, and felt the ropes more keenly than ever.

Again, Uma’s voice betrayed her plight. She just couldn’t keep it even, not when she was experiencing such constant stimulation. When Lieutenant Kuznetzov gave her a surprised look, Uma thought for sure she was going to be discovered. Surely there was no way someone as perceptive as the lieutenant would fail to notice that something strange was going on with her. But as Lieutenant Kuznetzov looked, Uma started to realize there was something off about her gaze. It was dull, somehow; glazed over, lacking all of its usual sharpness. If Uma hadn’t known better, she would have sworn that Lieutenant Kuznetzov was somehow tranquilized.

As if to confirm her suspicions, the searching look on Lieutenant Kuznetzov’s face eventually slackened into a dull, agreeable smile. “You look nice,” she said, before she took the tray of food Uma was holding out for her and moved along.

It was a banal comment, but it still set Uma twitching with a fierce mix of emotions. She looked nice? What did that mean? Had Lieutenant Kuznetzov noticed something? Uma peered at a nearby metal counter, studying her reflection. She looked normal, didn’t she? Didn’t she?

As far as Uma could tell, her holographic guise was holding up well. There was no hint of the binding ropes beneath. But that didn’t mean Uma looked normal. Far from it. As she looked into the makeshift mirror, Uma was struck by the dumb, nervous grin that refused to slip from her face, and by the hint of lurid color in her cheeks. Even if the ropes didn’t show, the thrill certainly did. Uma was glowing with it.

She looked good.

That simple observation set Uma’s heart aflutter. What did that mean? Why did she look so good like this?

And why was she enjoying it so much?

It was just a uniform, she told herself. Just a uniform. Nothing more. Uma’s brow furrowed. Once again, the blatant contradictions started to gnaw at her. If it was just a uniform, why was she so turned on? If it was just a uniform, why did she feel the need to hide it?

It was almost like-

“How’s it going, babe?”

Uma blinked, startled by the voice. She looked over and saw exactly what she had been afraid of. It was Wasp.

The uniform compliance officer.

As she looked Uma up and down, a ravenous look in her eyes, Uma made herself stand up straight, even though it forced the rope between her legs to press even deeper into her sensitive cunt. Her hands at her sides, she tried to subtly pull on a few ties here and there, arranging them to be just so.

She needed to look her best. Her uniform had to be perfect.

“Very good, sir,” Uma managed, just barely not moaning. It was far from the truth, of course, but it wouldn’t do to complain in front of such a senior officer.

“Great, great,” Wasp drawled. She seemed to be able to see straight through the holographic projection of Uma’s old uniform. Uma didn’t think to question that, although she did notice that Wasp seemed to be holding something behind her back. “You look… mmf. Good enough to eat.”

Uma shivered. She felt herself soiling the rope with her wetness. “T-thank you, sir.”

“But, see, I’m actually here ‘cause I forgot something,” Wasp added swiftly. “There’s, uh, an extra regulation. Something else you need for your uniform.”

“What is it?” Uma asked. The grin on Wasp’s face made her feel like she was stepping on a land mine just by asking.

“Here!” Wasp declared, and revealed the object she was holding with a gleeful flourish.

It was a dildo.

Uma was instantly, utterly aghast at the object. A hundred different protests immediately rose to her lips. This was absurd. A dildo wasn’t part of any kind of uniform. It wasn’t clothing at all, it was a sex toy. This was degrading. Humiliating. Where did Wasp get her authority from? Since when did the Inyx have a ‘uniform compliance officer’? Was that even a real position? Shouldn’t she speak to the captain about this?

Then, almost as quickly, the protests were smothered by a logic that was equal parts foreign, ridiculous, and utterly implacable.

Wasp was the uniform compliance officer. That meant she was in charge of uniforms. And Uma needed to wear her uniform.

Suddenly, as perturbed as Uma was by the object in Uma’s hands. She couldn’t help but yearn for it.

Her uniform simply wasn’t complete without the dildo.

That didn’t mean she wasn’t embarrassed, though. She was. Deathly so. Uma’s cheeks burned bright scarlet as she ushered Wasp toward the privacy of the ship’s galley.

“S-sorry, sir,” Uma whispered. “I… I hadn’t realized. I’ll take care of it at once. Just… in private. Please.”

She was so flustered, she didn’t think to question the way Wasp simply phased through the counter to join Uma in the galley, out of sight of the queuing crew members. A few of them let out impatient sighs, but besides that, none of them seemed to take much notice.

Once the door to the galley slid shut, Wasp held the dildo out toward Uma. The mess officer took it gingerly, and her shame only grew once it became clear that Wasp fully intended to watch her.

Uma couldn’t protest against it. Wasp was the uniform compliance officer. It was her right.

All Uma could do was try to stifle a moan as she pulled the rope between her legs to one side and pushed the seven-inch dildo all the way inside herself.

She failed.

“S-s-sorry, sir,” Uma bleated after the shrill moan erupted from her lips. “It’s u-unprofessional. Sorry. I j-just-“

Her words died. She couldn’t think. The long, hard, silicone shaft inside her pussy was turning her legs to jelly.

“Don’t worry about it.” The lurid, smarmy look on Wasp’s face was all but manic. “New uniforms take a little breaking in, am I right?”

“Y-y-yeah,” Uma agreed breathlessly.

She tried to close her legs. That was a mistake. A sharp, electric shock of pleasure almost made her bend double. Uma tried to take her hand away and found that the shibari tie running between her thighs was taut enough to keep the dildo in place, resting on it.

Uma couldn’t breathe for panting. She could see stars. Her knees were weak. A few droplets of wetness trickled down the dildo and fell to the floor. Her heart was pounding. She had never been so feverishly excited.

“Great,” Wasp said, openly leering at Uma. “Then, I guess you’d better hurry up and get back to work, officer!”

"Y-yes, sir,” Uma whimpered, offering a weak salute. She took her duty seriously, of course, but she couldn’t imagine how she was going to be able to perform it now.

She turned to head back out to the counter, and the very first step she took almost brought her to her knees.

It was impossible to move without working the toy even deeper inside her body, pressing ever more insistently against the most sensitive parts of her. Uma couldn’t even minimize the pleasure without resorting to an awkward, bow-legged gait that gave her away at once. All she could do was try not to let it show, but by the time she reached the counter, she needed to lean on it heavily just to keep herself upright. Uma’s every nerve ending was lit up, hypersensitive, ready to explode.

“Oh, just one more thing,” Wasp said, as she waltzed past Uma. “The regs say it needs to be switched on, too.”

Uma barely had time to process the significance of that before Wasp snapped her fingers — and the toy inside Uma’s cunt started to vibrate.

At once, Uma bent double and came.

She had already been on a hair trigger. The sensation of intense, merciless vibrations radiating from within her core was more than enough to push her over the edge. Uma saw white, and only managed to keep herself from moaning by expelling all the air from her lungs in a desperate, ragged gasp. For a brief moment, Uma forgot her shame and was carried away by the great wave of pleasure that ripped through her body.

Then, a voice called her back.

“Hey, can we get some grub already?”

Uma looked up, and as she saw the queue ahead of her, adrenaline flooded her veins and brought a goofy grin to her face. “S-sure!”

Her orgasm never quite seemed to end, as she forced herself back to the task of serving up hot meals to the Inyx’s weary crew. The pleasure stayed in her body, a constant current, ebbing and flowing whenever she moved. There was no escaping it. Every rope that dug into Uma’s chest, or her hips, or her belly, was a reminder. It all made her shame burn hot, lending a delectable thrill to each and every interaction. Every time someone so much as glanced at Uma, she was forced to ask: did they know? Could they tell?

And she had never felt more alive.

It was just so exciting. Now that her orgasm had thoroughly scrambled Uma’s better judgment, she couldn’t help but enjoy herself. For so long, every shift had been drudgery. But this was the farthest thing from boring. She was afraid of being discovered, yes, but it was a delicious fear. Something to be savored. For the first time in her life, Uma began to understand why people loved horror movies so much. It was just the same: the agonizing tension, building towards the inevitable plunge.

She couldn’t wait.

Uma was still embarrassed and ashamed, of course. Desperately so. She was a pervert. There was no denying it now. It was far too obvious. Instead, she faced a different dilemma. A different contradiction.

Did she really want to keep her uniform hidden? Or did she want to display it for the entire ship to see?

More and more, as Uma fought through her shift, she found herself dwelling on the question. It was an itch, growing and growing by measure. Now that her common sense had been dashed, the notion was all but irresistible. The ghosts of her inhibitions still held her back, warning about what people might think and what it might do to her reputation. But Uma was no longer sure she cared. She just wanted to take that plunge. To be seen. To cast aside the boredom of her life, once and for all.

How would it feel? What kind of look would she see in their eyes? Lust? Shock? Awe? Uma couldn’t wait to find out. Every time one of the crewmen glanced up at her, she was shot through with questions.

Could they see through her holographic disguise? Might it flicker out at just the wrong moment? Or could they hear something in her face? Could they read the unwholesome blush in her cheeks? Could they see the anguished, ecstatic yearning in her eyes?

Questions like that had been eating at Uma all shift. But now, they weren’t anxious. They were hopeful.

For some time, she went on like that, serving food to the Inyx’s crew with hands that trembled more and more with each passing moment. Her arousal grew and grew as the vibrator buzzed within her - but so did her disappointment, as the crewman failed to pay her the suspicion and attention she craved. Eventually, though, one of them paused to address her.

The engineer, Sai Kabir.

“Uma,” she said, stepping up to the counter. “A moment of your time? I wanted to speak with you about a few minor inefficiencies and maintenance issues relating to the galley equipment.”

A shiver of tension raced up Uma’s spine and she nodded, practically drooling as she did. “O-of course.”

She was familiar with Sai Kabir. The engineer was always cordial, if not friendly — and recently, it had been impossible not to take note of the way her chest had been bulging out from underneath her shirt. Uma couldn’t believe the mild-mannered crewman had been hiding assets like those and she couldn’t imagine what had persuaded her to start showing them off — but she had, more than once, been jealous of how the other members of the crew now stared at Kabir. And, secretly, of the blush that rose to Kabir’s cheeks when they did.

Now, though, the other woman seemed to be all business. 

"As part of our routine checks, in engineering we’ve been monitoring the power draw from different sections of the ship,” Kabir told her. “And I noticed some unusual fluctuations relating to your equipment down here. My guess is that the capacitor heating coils have started to suffer ion decay as a result of the unusual radiospheric activity out here on the rim.”

Uma just nodded dumbly, hoping it would seem like she could follow the engineer’s technobabble. In truth, her long words cascaded meaninglessly over the mess officer, adding to the busy noise that filled her head.

“However,” Kabir added, “it’s also possible that it’s due to an adverse feedback loop between your equipment and the surrounding cooling sinks. If they need to draw more power to counteract the ambient heat of the galley, and that power itself produces heat as it encounters resistance in some degraded reactor channels… well, I’m sure you can see the problem.”

“The… p-problem?” Uma panted. Talking was even harder than thinking. “O- of course.”

She really couldn’t. The vibrator in her cunt occupied all of her attention, and every time she twitched, the ropes wrapped around her luscious, plump body seemed to bind even tighter.

“Although…” Kabir’s brow furrowed, and the suggestion of scrutiny made Uma’s heart race. “Perhaps it’s a much more straightforward issue.”

“Y-you think?” Uma forced out. She wanted to moan. She wanted to moan so badly. “What, um, what makes you say-“

Kabir held up a finger to stop her talking. “Can you hear that buzzing noise?”

Uma quivered as another little orgasm tore through her.

“B-b-buzzing noise?” Uma bleated. “That’s n-not… um… I can’t…”

She was grinning. She could feel it. She couldn’t stop herself.

“You can’t?” Kabir suddenly leaned forward, bending over the counter. “It’s right there. Low-pitched. It sounds close. And kind of… wet?”

As she drew closer, Uma felt like her heart was going to explode.

“N-n-no.” Out of instinct, Uma denied it. “I don’t think… I can’t h-hear a-anything! Or maybe it’s the s-s-ship just, um, you know… settling?”

Though she was trying to head the engineer off, another part of her - a larger, deeper part - was begging Sai Kabir to look closer. To notice. To see Uma for what she was: a pervert, getting off on the secret under her hologram.

“It’s not that,” Kabir said at once. “No, it has to be something small. Maybe…” Suddenly, she glanced at Uma’s face and her frown deepened. “Uma, are you alright?”

“O-of course!” Uma squeaked. It was true, in a way. She was on cloud nine. Shame, anxiety, and arousal had all melded together into a dizzying euphoria that she could not escape. It was a kind of madness. “I’m j-j-just… busy!”

As Sai Kabir peered at her, closer and closer, an idea ignited and burned within Uma’s head. What if she just took off the hologram? She could, easily. It was right there, pinned to a rope running along her collar. Then, Kabir would see. She’d know Uma for what she was.

What kind of face would she make? Uma was dying to know.

She couldn’t help but be disappointed when Kabir suddenly drew back. “Of course,” she said apologetically. “You’re working, and I’m bothering you. Forgive me. We can discuss this later when you’re not so busy. Perhaps I’ll come back and we can find whatever’s making that buzzing noise.”

“Oh,” Uma said faintly.

She glanced at the clock and at the queue in the mess hall. The crowd was already thinning out. Surprisingly, it was beginning to look like Uma was going to make it through the entire shift without anybody discovering the secret of her new uniform.

Uma couldn’t take that. She couldn’t take being boring again. And so, driven by the never-ending surge of arousal within her, she made a promise to herself.

When the next person came up for their meal, Uma was going to take off the hologram covering her up.

Sai Kabir departed, and the next member of the crew started to approach. Seconds stretched out to what felt like an eternity. During each heartbeat, Uma was tormented by the knowledge of everything she had to lose if she went through with it — and everything she had to lose if she didn’t.

In the end, it was a snap decision. Before her better judgment could prevail, Uma’s hand reached up and snatched the miniature projector away from her collar.

The veil fell. In the brief moment before Uma’s vision became nothing more than a white blur, she saw the crewman’s eyes widen in palpable awe.

Uma knew at once what the other woman was seeing: Uma’s true self. The fat, bounteously curvy woman was, all over, tied up with ropes that made an unmistakable spectacle of her body. The crimson strands made a gorgeous contrast with her pale skin, making it look all the softer, all the more inviting. Her physique’s proportions, already mouth-wateringly plush, were only further accentuated by all the places in which the shibari ties pulled taut against Uma’s body. She looked incredible. She looked like erotic art.

But that was just the beginning.

Far more striking than simply her body was the look on Uma’s face. The look of unrepentant, ravenous need in her eyes. The shameful blush in her cheeks that made the perverse fetishism of her appearance undeniable. The way her lips were parted and wet, quivering with each panted breath. It made it all so clear. This wasn’t an accident or a mistake. Not something Uma had been forced into. This was something she loved. Something she craved. Now, everybody knew.

And there was no going back.

For Uma Vilchis, that was the best part of all.

Once her vision eventually cleared, she was finally able to get a good look at the woman standing in front of her. The woman she’d exposed herself to. It was Alara Hisarlik, the ship’s counselor.

“My, my,” the counselor purred. “What is the meaning of this, mess officer?”

Uma had no answer for her. She should have been terrified. Instead, the look of vicious, predatory interest in Alara’s eyes only heightened her pleasure.

She wasn’t boring. Not anymore.

More and more of the other crew members in the mess were starting to turn their heads and gawk at Uma. Some of them whispered, or blushed, or pointed. Uma welcomed it all. If not for the toy already in her cunt, she would have been touching herself.

“I think our sweet mess officer is experiencing some kind of… incident,” Alara announced loudly, licking her lips. “She’ll come with me to my quarters. I’ll take care of her. Don’t worry, Miss Vilchis. I’m told my new hypnotherapy program can be terribly effective.”

Uma nodded mutely. She could sense the intent behind Alara’s words. Clearly, this was no longer the wholesome, friendly counselor she remembered chatting with. That was perfectly fine with Uma. She welcomed whatever depraved plans Alara had in store for her.

It was just the kind of excitement she needed.

But as the two of them exited the mess hall and made for the turbolifts, Wasp appeared once again. Uma stood at attention, ready for her uniform to be inspected, but it wasn’t her Wasp had eyes for. The hacker grabbed Alara by the shoulders and hissed manically to her co-conspirator.

“Alara!” Wasp said. “We need to talk. Something big is happening.”

“Not now.” Alara shrugged her off. “I’ve just found a new subject.”

“No time!” Wasp shot back. “You can get to her later. This is huge!”

Alara frowned. “What is it? What’s happening?”

Wasp licked her lips, and Uma could tell if the look of mania in her eyes was born from fear or glee.

“I just intercepted a transmission,” she told Alara. “An admiral is coming to inspect the Inyx.”