Pilot Episode #1 -- Every Girl Needs a Robot
Starring:Ana Douglass
Introducing:U.M.A. UQL=42
Location: Bosti in the Cygni System
Producer: Essi
Before Ana could even think of dealing with the mountain of questions she had, which were probably all answered in the contract she hadn't bothered to read, she needed a quick wank to clear her mind. As it stood, she couldn't focus for more than a few seconds without her thoughts drifting back to Essi.
She found what appeared to be a spa aboard her ship, replete with ferns, soft music, a couple water features, and pleasant white light from the domed ceiling. Along the walls were shower stalls, or pods to be more accurate. She stepped into the first one she came to and a bright holographic display appeared in front of her giving her options for things to be bathed in. Most of the list was marked in read and blocked from access—deadly to humans being the reason listed after each item. No liquid argon shower for her. She selected water and dialed the temperature to low triple digits. She reveled in the shock of heat and tinge of pain that came with going straight into an overly heated shower. It woke up her skin and jolted her mind. Water came from the ceiling but also the floor, somehow flowing up and down on her at the same time. She marveled at the dual streams until she noticed she'd begun floating perfectly suspended in the middle of the pod.
Delighted by the loss of gravity, she did a few twirls and flips through the water, laughing all the way through. She'd always loved showering—showering without gravity was even better.
A few ports opened along the wall at about chest level. She pushed the button on the first one and dodged out of the way just in time to avoid a stream of something bright pink and viscous. It smelled of cotton candy and began orbiting her like the rings of Saturn. She touched one of the floating orbs of the pink liquid and found it was slippery, very slippery and a little warm. The water droplets bounced off the pink blob—hydrophobic, interesting. She was planning to use spit, but...
She squeezed the glob in her hand and guided her newly slick palm down to her rigid, now purple, cock. The first stroke was too much and she had to let go of herself to catch her breath. Whatever was in the pink stuff made her nerves dance. She tried again, this time with even lighter pressure—same result. Tingles shot across her body, emanating out from her now throbbing dick and every hair on her body stood on end.
"Okay, not going to work," she muttered to herself. "...or will it?"
A fiendish notion popped into her head. She moved the pink lube up from her hand onto her index and middle finger. Getting her legs spread and her back reclined in zero gravity was far easier than she expected. The hot water poured up from the floor across her back and down from the ceiling onto her breasts.
Her fingers slid so easily into her ass and it felt so good she gasped from the initial sensation that typically caused a bit of a teeth clench. She rolled them around at first, simply enjoying the sensation of how slippery her fingers were and how the lube made her tingle all the way through to her stomach. When she curled them around to find her button, the trans girl g-spot, she couldn't keep her focus anymore. Her eyes glassed over, her brain knew only pleasure, and she rubbed back and forth with an animalistic urgency until her turgid purple dick pulsed and sprayed a stream of almost iridescent white into the antigravity field, then another, and then a smattering of droplets. Everything felt so good, from the fingers in her ass to the water on her skin, that she could only think of the shower as pure bliss. She sucked in a passing droplet of her own cum to taste the salty, distinctive flavor and even enjoyed that act more than she typically did.
Once her head was reasonably clear of naughty thoughts, it took her awhile to figure out the rest of the ports on the side of the shower even did. There were at least four or five that she didn't have a clue what was shooting out of them or what she was meant to do with the stuff. She puzzled out soap, shampoo, and what she really hoped was conditioner, along with something that removed body hair, but not head hair. That one smelled like blueberries, which she liked, and it didn't hurt like shaving, waxing, or depilatory creams, which she loved!
She got out of the shower, stepping from the zero gravity feed daintily onto the tile floor like she'd done it a thousand times. Clean, smooth, and momentarily sexually satisfied, she wandered around the ship naked to dry off while she searched for clothes. At one point in the shower she'd had the vague sensation that the ship might be moving, but it was so subtle and her mind was still so scrambled by her anal orgasm, that she chalked it up to her post-climax daze.
Eventually she found a closet, picked out a silky red dress with black polka dots and a matching set of pump. She considered looking for a gaff to tuck with, but then realized everyone already knew what she was packing. Her audience, Essi, and basically everyone she would interact with knew about her dick—hell it might even have been the reason they tuned in. Hiding what she was might actually hurt her ratings.
Even still, she wasn't going to free ball; she was still a lady...kind of, sort of, not really. She found some lacy black boy shorts and pulled those on. The dress hugged her curves, cradled her breasts like it was form-fitted to them, and flared out in a cute little flip at the base around her knees. The pumps were actually comfortable. She'd just taken a zero gravity shower after being turned purple by an alien with a mouth like a black hole and somehow the most magical thing to happen to her that day were the shoes. She could live in those 4" heels and love every second of it, which shouldn't have been physically possible.
She ruffled out her nearly dry hair and headed deeper into the ship to find some sign of what she was meant to do next. She nearly collided with a floating orb outside the door to her cavernous walk-in closet. It was roughly the size of a basketball and perfectly smooth. It actually looked a little like the floating pink glob of lube from earlier and she started to get a little turned on just thinking about it.
"
Purple Infinity
is proud to present Ana Douglass of the inter-dimensional vessel
Shining Dreamer
," the pink orb said in a monotone, androgynous voice, ripples flowing across its surface with every word. "Speak tagline at pulse." The orb pulsed once with a faint white light.
"I don't watch out for fun," Ana said. "Fun watches out for me!" She was about to ask for another take, not remotely satisfied with her first attempt at a tagline.
"Tagline accepted." The orb floated down the hallway at a casual walking pace.
Ana followed, trying to look camera ready and fierce, although she wasn't sure if she was still being recorded or broadcast or whatever the hell the orb was doing. The hallway curved very slowly to the right. Her heels clacked along the floor that looked like marble tile but with glowing purple lines running through the white instead of the usual black.
Eventually the orb led her to what appeared to be the ship's cockpit. An oval window roughly the size and convex shape of an IMAX theater screen greeted her with space looming on the other side.
"Whoa, shit," Ana murmured.
The rest of the room was set up largely like planetarium viewing section with seats that all reclined maybe a little too far up the face of a steeply pitched floor. The white and purple theme of the vessel persisted throughout.
"Does the vastness of space cause you to have human emotions?" the orb asked her in the same flat voice that was neither masculine nor feminine.
Ana snapped out of her stunned state and tried to get back to her TV persona. "I'm in awe," she said with a little shrug to show she wasn't
that
awed. "It's a magnificent view. Humans like those."
"Sit in designated seat," the orb demanded, floating toward the largest of the odd recliners.
Ana walked over toward it and gingerly sat, expecting the weird leaned back position to be difficult to maintain considering it was pointed mostly at the huge window on the front of the room. Instead she found herself settling in nicely as if gravity was moved behind the chair by the mere act of sitting in it.
"The
