Chapter Thirteen
Sketch was starting to get used to waking up being blown, and he wasn't entirely sure if that was a thing that should bother him or he just accept was now part of his life. But this seemed a step beyond. He opened his eyes to find Serena posting up and down on his cock like she was riding him like he was one of the stevrids she'd taken so naturally to just the day before.
"Fuck, why do you always feel so fucking good inside me?" Serena whimpered as she clenched the walls of her pussy onto his shaft, trying to keep her motions short and small so as not to wake him, but so caught up in her own pleasure that she couldn't help but start moving faster and harder, thrusting her small body down onto his lap, making the bunk wobble just a little bit.
"I think you woke him up, Princess," Aliara said from her seat at the end of the bunk. "Not that I imagine he's complaining too much."
"I'm going to complain if you two end up breaking my dick off while I'm sleeping," Sketch grumbled, rubbing the sleep away from his eyes.
"I know I should be angry that you turned me into a junkie for your cock, Sketch, but I know you didn't
mean
to do it, and really, the orgasms are so fucking delightful that I can't complain too much anyway," the princess purred from atop of him. "But you're gonna have to knock me up at some point. The human race has to live on!"
"Gods below," Aliara laughed, rolling her eyes, a gesture she'd picked up from their newest shipmates, "it's not like you're a dying species or anything."
"No, but I am the last remaining member of human royalty," Serena said, raking her fingernails against his chest. "That means there's a bloodline we're entrusted with continuing. C'mon, don't you want to breed my pretty ass, Miles?"
"I do so love watching her face do that thing when you cream inside of her, boss," Aliara giggled, the larger woman running one of her fingertips along the back of Serena's head a little bit. "Don't keep her waiting too long. She was trying to get it without waking you up, but now that you're awake, can't you see she's in need? Got an itchy little pussy only you can scratch, bossman."
"Miles, I'm outta my fucking mind here," Serena whimpered. "I couldn't fucking stop if I wanted to, not until my body gets what it fucking needs, until I'm satisfied and filled up. I need you to fill your love in my belly, need to feel that warmth spreading through my system, completing me. Don't leave me unfinished. Don't leave me empty. Claim your princess whore lover priestess. Finish me, Miles. Fill me the fuck up!"
"Do it, boss," Aliara chanted like some sort of filthy Greek chorus, her breath hot in his ear as she panted into it. "Breed her. Breed your princess bitch. Breed. Breed. BREED."
There was only so much resistance Sketch had within him, and before he knew it, his body had overruled whatever decision making processes his active brain had and just turned into a carnal, rutting machine, his balls drawing up as he began to shudder and shake, an intense orgasm flowing through him into her, her body sparking like a powder keg set ablaze, the intensity of his release only matched or exceeded by hers, which seemed like it set her body into a trembling frenzy before she slumped atop of him, twitching in sporadic moments like a fish on land in its final moments.
After what felt like a few small ice ages, Sketch heard Aliara giggle. "
Fuck
, you lucky, lucky bitch," the large P'Nox soldier said to the two of them. "He's going to be worthless for another go until tonight, isn't he? I didn't get my turn and now I probably won't for a few days, since we're approaching Wispbeetle Station and I imagine we're going to be stuck hunting for business while we're there, yay bossman?"
"We don't generally go hunting for business," Sketch said, wiping the thick layer of sweat from his face with his forearm. "That's what Lara's mom handles for us as our fixer. She finds the gigs, presents them to me, and I pick and choose from what's on offer."
"How often do you say no?" Serena asked, snuggling up against him, her tiny body pressing against his mass of scar and muscle.
"I think we take about one out of every four jobs on offer," Sketch said calmly. "It was a lot more in the early days before I finally broke down and trusted Cola with my reasons for my particular conditions. Also, we got a reputation as a ship that doesn't fail, so that helped with us getting more gigs quickly, because once people know you're incredibly reliable, they're willing to put up with the occasional eccentricity."
"Are we going to keep up those eccentricities now that we don't
have
to?"
"Let's just say we're going to have them as preferences, but if the money's right, we're willing to consider other options," Sketch chuckled.
"What about picking up gigs on our own? Not through Cola?" Aliara asked him. "I want to know how I should react if people are pitching me work while we're hanging out in the station."
"First and foremost, keep a low profile," Sketch said. "But if someone's talking about needing a ship like ours, entertain the conversation. You don't need to worry as much, Aliara, since your cover's basically bulletproof, but we want to keep Serena's face off any vidscreens, as well as my own. Lara and Jez are fine to go out and mingle as they see fit. We're all going to have to be off the ship for a couple of days anyway, to get repairs done from flying through that comet tail. They're going to depressurize every part of her to make sure nothing's leaking even a little bit. Helen'll keep tabs on the workers, make sure they don't mess with anything they're not supposed to. Mawakes and her guys do good work, so until we have a mechanic of our own, be prepared to be swinging by Wispbeetle any time we pick up so much as a busted vent shaft."
"So what you're saying is we should be on the lookout for a mechanic?"
"One that knows Tropage systems, which I can't imagine is an easy ask, considering how few ships there are like
The Praeteritus
in use these days," Sketch grumbled.
"You never know what we can find buried under a rock or getting drunk in some tavern, bossman," Aliara said to him. "If we'll have a few days, it won't hurt for us to poke around the station, make a couple of inquiries."
"I also want you two keeping tabs on Jez and Lara, just to make sure our former addict doesn't fall off the wagon."
"We're still not trusting them?"
"I trust them, I just don't trust the addict inside of Jez, that's all," Sketch grumbled. "Addicts do dumb things without thinking through their actions in chase of their fix. Just make sure she doesn't stumble into any temptation, or if she does, make sure she's doing the right thing with it, okay?"
"You got it, bossman."
"Captain," Helen's voice said formlessly through the air. "We're about ten minutes out from Wispbeetle Station now, so if you wanted a shower before you disembarked for a few days, you should do that now."
"C'mon, Princess, let's go hose off."
After their shower they headed to the bridge, where Lara and Jezebel were waiting, as the ship approached Wispbeetle Station, one of the more remote trading posts within the Empire, but also one that saw quite a decent amount of business, albeit less legal than normal. The station was certainly one of the most hodgepodge outposts Sketch had ever seen.
Wispbeetle Station had started out as Wispbeetle Mining Colony, or to be even more accurate, as Asteroid 12x62f12p67gz. Once the precious minerals had been stripped from the rock, the remaining space had been converted from mine to waystation, since so much of the existing infrastructure had been built to keep the mine running. It had grown slowly and steadily, through organic development, with the original miners having taken ownership of the space once the mine had shuttered. There hadn't been a plan, so everything had a very much a 'we added it when we realized we needed it' sense about it, with no organized structured levels or development - just everything ad hoc and hammered on as quickly as they could. It meant that getting around the place took a lot of wandering, or an incredibly detailed map.
The sale of such maps was one of the best businesses on Wispbeetle Station, considering the constant renovations, remodeling and reconfiguring the station went through on a month-to-month basis. Sketch had learned, however, that the maps were all updated off of a free central file that was simply not well-advertised and had set his own pocket terminal to always update any time they arrived at Wispbeetle.
Wispbeetle had been a place that Sketch had learned about early on after his emergence from deep slumber, mostly because it was easy to do business via remote there. One wing had been dedicated to Lingham spore carriers, a place where they could keep to themselves, isolated and removed from all other people on Wispbeetle while their ships were under repairs. Now, however, since he had an Ashaka, he could move around the population for the first time, explore the station, talk to the people and, most importantly, eat
all the food
.
Despite the fact that the air filtration system had purged everything in the outgoing air, the
incoming
air had been a thousand different delicious smells, and none of the people making them wanted to deliver to the Lingham plague wing, so he'd never been able to eat
any
of them. It had been a form of torture, having to smell all that delicious cuisine and being prevented from consuming it.
No more, he thought to himself.
"You okay there, chief?" Jez asked him.
"Sorry, my mind got caught up in trying to decide where I'm going to go eat first."
"Uh, okay," Lara laughed. "Why?"
"Because I didn't have an Ashaka until recently, so I wasn't able to go wandering around," Sketch told them. "I had to be in the quarantine section, although I understand they don't even have that anymore, now that the Lingham cure is everywhere."
"You made a decision if we're sticking with you or not, chief?" Jez asked. "If you're gonna turn us loose, then this might be a good station for us to find a new ship to call home."
"You're my crew now, Jez, the pair of you," Sketch said calmly. "I'm still a little nervous about your pharmaceutical problem, but I know what it's like to not be given a second chance, so I'm willing to extend some trust for the time being. As long as you don't let me down, well, I think we'll all get along just fine. Besides, this'll be your chance to prove you're half the cook your mother claims you are. You'll have access to the purchasing account to buy us rations for what you're going to have us eating for the next month or so."
