~ Previously on Futa Futcha ~
OK ...so ...to recap ...the ancient device found on a long dead planet a long time ago in the depths of space was finally unlocked by some hugely clever male scientist, though not that clever it seemed as it unleashed a genetic plague that wiped out every human male on earth for now and evermore, leaving only the female of the species. Everything appeared bleak for the species survival, but a clever little drug was developed called 'Futanarium' which temporarily endowed the female with a huge rampant rod and the will and desire to use such a rutting tool.
We focus on a ship in the depths of space ...tis a huge ship. The Vancouver is a transport ship the size of the average city, well, maybe not the average city, but from end to end it is easily as long as the olde world city of New York. As big as the ship was, it only had a total of five crew ...there was Justine, an experienced Captain with hair like liquid gold, Simone, the raven haired navigator ...Katalina, the comms officer with a fetish for piercings and who marked each time the ship made landfall by getting some or other part of her perfectly proportioned personage pierced. There was also Martinique who was ships security ...though it was often said that she only ever took on that position so she could abuse it and smuggle stuff on board that would otherwise have been confiscated by any security officer worth her salt. Finally there was Tasha, the helmswoman and one of note, a decorated flyer but one who flew with instinct rather than beholden to regulation.
It was on some such routine delivery assignment that they also encountered a megalomaniacal entity known only as Minge the Merciless whose intentions of ruling the universe seemed unstoppable, but for a navigational error on Tasha's part that bought the huge transport ship directly in line with Minge's 'Black Hole Cannon' {Patent Pending}.
Fortunate too, I guess, that the somewhat dodgy security officer on board had a stash of an illicit chemical which they imbibed in order to take on the forces of evil. And so it was that after a pitch battle, our Horse Hung Heroines were able to subdue the evil Overlordess and save the day and universe after rendering the evil Minge senseless with their phallic pummeling and then Tasha used the Vancouver as a cue as she played 'pool with meteors' and sent a huge chunk of orbit rock slamming into Minge's homeworld which had enough force to shunt the planet into the pull of the black hole, tipping it over the edge of its event horizon.
~ ~ ~
What ...might you be asking has this to do with now ...the answer is nothing, not a thing, nada ...though it made for an entertaining log entry as to why they were running late for deliveries yet again. Anyway, it might also help to explain why the Vancouver sought to dock at this far flung space station that currently loomed into view and ...why a gifted pilot such as Tasha, was having such a problem maneuvering the behemoth of a vessel into position as, after all, being hit with the quantum retardation effects of a BHC and using the ass end of the ship to knock a meteor out of orbit, the vessel was pulling to the left a little, all of this made for a tricky little maneuver when it came to aligning up the docking arm of the station ...all of this relaying in the expression of consternation as the bridge of her nose screwed up
The ship jolted and shuddered as she was narrowly able to counter the piss poor handling of the vessel as it stands right now. She breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that she had been able to avoid disaster , but the sudden mechanical feminine tones that blurted forth from the main console gave the impression that things were a little more amiss than at first appeared
"AleRt ...AleRt ..." the dire sonorous tones of 'Mother' rang out across the bridge accompanied by the sounds of a pitch wailing siren and the intermittent flashing of a red light that danced against the bulkheads
"IstaBiLitY iN CarGO HoLd. RUPturE DeteCted, AcTivaTIng VenTiNg ProCeDuRe."
From deep in the confines of the city sized transporter came a grind and a clunk ...swiftly followed by a whoosh as the great turbines housed in the depths of the cargo hold suddenly spun into action and drew out whatever contaminant had leaked into the ship, and given what they were carrying, that could be just about anything
"Er ...where exactly did Mother vent that?" Justine looked a little unnerved as her eyes danced against the console spread out before her.
Simone scanned through the logs and then caught the Captain's eye with a somewhat awkward look, "Left side ...straight into the station we docked at."
"Mother?" Justine looked upwards at the viewing screen that displayed all manner of 'heads up' information, one such thing being the fluctuating voice algorhythm of Mother that boogied as she spoke.
"YeS?"
"Why did you activate the left side vents?" Justine queried.
There was a moments pause ...if it were possible for a ship to shift uneasily from one foot to the other then likely this one would be doing that right now, as the question was met with an embarrassed silence and a thin whirring clunk of machinery that reverberated along the ship. Justine shook her head, the last thing she needed was to be lumbered with a repair bill for the station as well as the Vancouver.
"Tasha ..be a dear and go check out the station will you?" Justine smiled, and watched as Tasha rose from the helm, hell the real reason Justine had asked Tash to leave the bridge was simply so she could ogle that perfect pert rounded pair of peaches she possessed. That old say about 'hating that you go, but love watching you leave' was never more apparent than now, and she bit down on her lower lip as her eyes glazed over in lascivious lusting.
Justine sighed softly as the doors to the bridge opened and closed behind Tash, a delicate twinge shivering through her nethers as her flesh responded to some deep seated memory of sweet sexual satisfaction that they had shared ...bent over the helm ...with Justine's tongue 'going where no woman had gone before', well, ok, that wasn't exactly true of course, but you have to forgive me the reference. The crew of the Vancouver ...were ...how shall we put it ...very close.
"Get Marti on the comms will you? Get her to give the hold the once over as a precaution." Justine glanced across to Katalina and smiled upon noticing that she bore the self same expression that she had worn on watching Tash as she left. Kat shifted somewhat embarrassingly at being caught mid fantasy and hurriedly flashed a grin and opened a channel.
"Hey Kiki ...you there?" For some reason Katalina referred to Matrinique as 'Kiki', there was obviously a story behind this, but whenever any one or other of the crew pressed for unwholesome details, the response of either had been a flash of exchanged glances and a chorus of giggling.
For a few moments there was nothing but white noise before the highly sexed ships security responded. "Hey there Katty. I was just ...thinking about you." it was clear from her voice that Martinique was a little ...er ...breathless. "...I was thinking of you down between my thighs ....your tongue ...oh god, your tongue. The things you did last night, I have never know anyone get so dee...."
Katalina's voice raised a few octaves, her mortified squeal stilling Martinique in the tracks of her toe curling concentration.
"Your ....your on the bridge ...aren't you." came Marti's voice after a moments of uncomfortable silence.
"Yeppers." Katalina flicked her eyes around the bridge, her cheeks burning scarlet from the blend of Matrinique's inference and the barely concealed amusement that played against the expressions of both Justine and Simone. "Er ...could you do me a favour and go check down in the cargo hold? Mother ...has had an accident." Katalina spoke as though the Vancouver was an incontinent relative on day release from the care home.
"You got it ....gorgeous." Martinique's words were soaking in a huge grin as she flipped closed the comm channel and went about her task. As she slinked off along the corridor she passed Tasha on her way to the airlock door ...the two of them exchanged explicit grins, no doubt born from the resurgence of some shared memory or other that would have seen them charged with dereliction of duty on any other ship.
Tasha continued on through the winding passageways before taking a lift down into the lower reaches of the vessel where the umbilical attachment of the docking arm had extended outwards and snagged against the orbital space station. She stepped through the airlock and into the station, her perky little nose creased at the stale air within, but ...it wasn't just that, no, there seemed as though there was something else hanging in the atmosphere ...something that wasn't altogether unfamiliar, but she couldn't quite place it.
"Hello....?" her voice echoed off down along the mechanical looking corridor of the space station, however, it was met with silence ...which, in and of itself was unusual, after all, the Vancouver was not a craft graced with stealth. Trying to conceal the Vancouver's presence was like trying to hide a approaching tsunami behind a piece of rice paper.
So it was that she started off along the corridor, her footfalls clipping against the metal gantry and her subsequent called out greetings going just as unheard as her first. This was a little strange though, it wasn't unheard of for space stations to be unwomaned when they lay this far out.
Another few steps and she came to a halt, something wasn't right, the cloying air that she was breathing wasn't sitting all that well with her and for a moment Tash felt dizzy ...enough to shiver her balance off centre and see her hand seeking support against one of the bulkheads while her free hand rose to her temples, her eyes crushing shut as she tried to push aside the wave of dizziness and nausea that washed across her for a moment. Just when the pain seemed to peak ...it was gone again ...and her breathing relaxed. She pushed herself away from the bulkhead and tested the weight of herself against each foot. Everything seemed normal enough ...but it took a few moments for her to shake the strange feeling from her head, though the tingle in her loins remained.
Pressing on she walked through the cold metal passageways and gantries ...there was nothing pretty about this place, it spoke more of functionality that comfort. It was as she walked across one such gantry that she espied movement below her. With her fingers braced against the basic metal rail that ran along the edge of the walkway, she peered over ...her eyes squinting in an effort to discern detail.
