Content Note:
Incest
"The spinball pitch is possible only in space," Charlie explained to the twins. Mara and I exchanged a glance of weary amusement. "It is cylindrical, some twenty metres in diameter and twice that in length, and spins once every six seconds."
It is, in truth, dizzying to watch, with players literally at all angles to each other. There is some seating behind the goals at either end, but it can of course be watched at home or down the pub in glorious, fully immersive 3D. I have watched it a few times, but for some, like Charlie and his best friend Hayden, it's practically a religion.
"The rules are simple," he continued. "Kicking and throwing are both allowed. The object is to get the ball into the goal." He pointed at the circular nets, positioned high above the ground in the zero-g zone, guarded by weightless goalkeepers with long sticks that served as much for propulsion as for stopping the ball. "The tricky bit - and this is what makes the game so exciting - is how the spin affects the ball's path. Kicked spinwise, the ball bounces like a stone skimming water. Thrown anti-spinwise, the ball flies high. The slightest misjudgement and your team can lose control of the ball."
"I love when they throw it and it spirals," Helen said.
"That's the helix-shot," Charlie said, "and if you judge it perfectly it will have the goalie spinning, although it usually ends with the ball in the crowd."
The girls' new fascination with the sport had less to do with the game itself and much to do with a certain captain. I'd been having a nice, relaxing morning, curled up in front of the fire with a pot of tea and a book of Shelley's anarchist poetry (with many scribblings in the margins), when Charlie, Hayden and a third burst in on my isolation, followed quickly by a very excited pair of twins.
"Ana!" the girls chorused. "This is Captain Winter. You have to meet her!"
And indeed, the third person was Freya, dressed like the two men in a spinball outfit. My heart nearly stopped. For the first time in eight years, I was face-to-face with her, and so completely unprepared that my voice sounded strangled as I struggled to form words. "Captain," I managed to say, the heat of embarrassment rising in my cheeks.
There was no warmth in her expression. She faced me as she might face an enemy across a battlefield, and said merely, "Miss Elliott."
I studied Freya while Charlie instructed the twins on the rules of spinball. No one returns from war unchanged. The Ensign Winter I had known had been full of youthful optimism, but in Captain Winter that energy was contained. Spinball outfit aside, I could imagine her at the helm of a starship, ready to charge into battle. "I didn't know you played," I said.
"Yes," she said. "We have no libraries or pianos on our ships and must make do with simpler entertainments." Freya kept her tone light, but the words still hurt. She painted a picture of me like my father and my older sister, too concerned with an archaic lifestyle and its privileges to ever know what real love could mean.
The twins, bless them, had eavesdropped on our short exchange while missing entirely how wounded it left me. "You know each other?" Lucy asked, with as much anxiety as amazement in her expression.
"We met briefly when Miss Elliott was at college," Freya said, casually missing out every detail of a passionate and too brief love affair.
"We're going to watch them play," gushed Helen.
"And tonight we're having a party, here, with dancing," Lucy added. "You can play the piano for us!"
I wanted to decline, but suddenly no one was paying any attention to me. The men and Freya were leaving, and the twins rushed out after, and I was left sitting alone in a state of near shock. I still clutched Shelley's poetry in my hand, but the words no longer held meaning.
*
It was an ordinary piano, and yet more. The soundboard connected to neural stimulators in the stool, so that the strike of the keys against the strings sent subtle vibrations coursing through the performer. The higher octaves excited the arms and chest, and certain arpeggios guaranteed to harden the nipples as if a lover sucked on them. The lower octaves thrilled through the thighs and awoke a yearning emptiness within.
The twins loved it, of course. As soon as dinner was done and the boys sent to bed, Lucy and Helen rushed to the piano. "Come and listen to us play, Captain," they called, and launched into a version of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. What they lacked in skill they certainly made up for in enthusiasm. Lucy, taking the Primo position on the right, playing the high notes, giggled frequently, while Helen, the Secondo on the left with the deeper octaves, developed a pronounced flush.
Freya and Hayden, both now dressed smartly and looking relaxed and content in the wake of the day's sport, were happy to keep the girls company as they sipped whisky and discussed gameplay. I sat with Charlie, unable to stop myself watching the seductive tease. I told myself firmly that I loved both Lucy and Freya and therefore would be happy to see them together.
"It seems Helen has her eye on Hayden," I observed quietly.
Charlie smiled like a proud brother. "She has liked him for a while, but seeing him play today - the man has raw talent - has certainly rekindled her interest."
"I'm surprised you never hooked up with Hayden," I joked.
Charlie laughed loudly. "We both enjoy pussy too much for that. It won't surprise you to learn we've shared on occasion. Isn't that right, sweetheart?"
This last was directed at Mara. She'd put the kids to bed and had just returned wearing a glossy red rubber bodysuit that sealed her entirely below the neckline. It was so perfectly fitted it had had to be printed onto her bare skin - I'd watched the machine work on her during the afternoon. The suit was like a second skin, tight everywhere except for two rubber tubes that were left dangling from her crotch. "Push those in for me, will you?" she'd asked, and I had spent a good half hour inverting the tubes as I worked them securely into her cunt and ass with the aid of a dildo and plenty of lube.
Mara had concealed the red rubber beneath black silk at dinner, and afterwards clearly enjoyed the lustful glances in her direction once it was revealed. "I'm dying for a pee," she whispered in my ear before deigning to notice her husband. "Hmm, what was that, dear?"
"I was just telling Ana your cunt can handle two cocks together."
"Well, of course it can," she said. Whispering again to me, she said, "Actually, I think I'll just do it." Her face took on an expression of intense concentration, and I couldn't help staring at the hole that marked her rubber-sheathed cunt - but nothing could be seen, and after a minute, Mara relaxed with a wicked grin. "Dance with me, honey," she said, holding her hand out to her husband.
They danced together to the erratic and discordant music of the piano, kissing hungrily, Charlie's hands gliding possessively across the red rubber, Mara's hands extracting her husband's hard cock from his trousers and stroking it.
Freya had brought up a chair to sit beside Lucy, and having exposed the girl's breasts to general view seemed content to kiss Lucy's bare neck and brush her fingertips across Lucy's swollen nipples. None of which improved Lucy's playing. Helen soldiered on too, banging out chords as Hayden kissed his way up between her wide-stretched thighs.
An undeniably erotic scene playing out before my eyes, and an acutely painful one for me too. I had been miserable all day since my awful reintroduction to Freya, and seeing her lips pressed against another woman's neck, her hand cupping another woman's breast, was a torment - made worse by my having no one to distract me. Made still worse by the chastity belt that I wore and was still determined to keep secret.
"Play for us, Ana," Lucy said suddenly. She and Helen stood and led their respective partners onto the makeshift dance floor.
Glad to have something to keep me from looking at Freya, I took my place at the piano and settled easily into a nocturne by Chopin. My hands knew it well enough to find the correct notes despite Mara being abruptly pushed against the piano, Charlie's cock easing into the rubber sheathe in her ass; despite Helen's loud moan of guttural need as Hayden thrust into her cunt; despite the vigorous bouncing of Lucy's breasts, pressed firmly about Freya's hard shaft.
Vibrations played along my nerves as if I were the instrument. I resisted the impulse to crush my breasts and squeeze my nipples, and I knew the futility of attacking my hidden belt in a quest for release. I switched to Schumann and played on, ignoring Mara's laughter, ignoring Helen's loud profanity, and ignoring Lucy's scream of delight as Freya's cum burst out across her neck and chest.
