Nymphos of the Sy

Mc sf mf ff

Short Description: A moment of clarity, after a life of nymphomaniac numbness.

+++

I came.

I was enjoying the warm afterglow of orgasm. My head was lying on Robb's chest; Abby cuddled up with me, her tits softly nudging my back, her arm resting on my waist, her hand stroking Robb's exhausted cock.

"Charlene?" Abby whispered.

"Yeah, sweetie?"I answered lazily.

"Is he asleep?"

"Uh-huh."

Abby moved her hand to my tits, teasing my nipples now, but she did not put in any real effort. My thoughts wandered. They wandered a lot, lately.

"I've been thinking," I said. "About Ship."

"So what's there to think about? Ship's just Ship."

"But why's Ship the way it is? Why, if you walk to port, or starboard, you'll end up at your starting point. But if you walk stern or aft, you'll bump into a bulkhead."

"Whatever."

Abby wasn't interested but I couldn't stop.

"It's as if Ship is an enormous tin can, and we're living on the barrel."

Abby got up; I rolled on my back. She sat down on me, her firm thighs clasping my hips.

"Charlene, what's gotten into you? Where are these questions coming from? You know what we were taught; Ship is Ship, everything is Ship and there's nothing but Ship. And we are the happy inhabitants of Ship.

"Yeah, but..." I pondered for a while. "We work, we sleep, we fuck."

"We basically fuck." Abby grinned. "And we sleep together after we've fucked. And sometimes we have to do our duties to Ship."

"But why?"

"Why what?"

"Why everything? Why ship?"

Robb was stirring. He opened one eye, and angrily muttered something. Abby looked annoyed: "See what you've done, Charlene?"

***

Abby and I were BFFs. We shared shifts, meals, and boys. We even shared a cabin; it contained just a single bed but if we cuddled up it fitted. Today we were working out together, running through the long Main Passageway.

This was our tri-weekly routine; two laps at full speed, followed by showering. And showering meant rubbing and soaping and kissing and licking and cumming.

The other days we had to work in Hydroponics Farm Number Five. However, our shifts would always end in the communal shower. A shift detail would consist of eight, and it was of course the challenge to fuck everyone before going home. Normally the composition of the detail would vary, but Abby and I always tried to align our schedules so that we could work together. Convincing Finn, the manager of Farm Number five, to change assigned shifts was rarely a problem; we usually promised him a little trio. And we always kept our promises.

Our pace was just too fast for conversation, which suited me fine. I observed the Main Passageway as if it was the first time I jogged here. It was

huge

; five decks high, 30 meters wide, and it stretched along the whole Ship. Although providing a perfect opportunity for fitness training, it was mainly used for transport of heavy goods; harvests from the hydroponic gardens and equipment to and from the workshops. There were countless doors to other passageways perpendicular to the Main Passageway. No, the number of doors were not

countless

; I tried to estimate the number of doors, based on the length of the Main Passageway. How big was Ship really? How many people were living on Ship? How many days would it take to fuck them all if I had sex with six different people a day?

We showered; Abby cleaned me from tit to toe; the cleaning turned into a massage, the massage into cunnilingus.

"You're distraught," Abby remarked while she was toweling me.

She seemed concerned, not angry, because I had not returned the favor of licking pussy.

"I am," I admitted. "Where are we?"

"In our cabin, silly girl."

"Yes, but where's our cabin?"

"Deck 12, Corridor 573, Section Mike."

"It's the last section, right? The other way it's Kilo, Juliette, and all the way down to Alpha."

"You forget Section Echo where the hunk from Electrical Engineering lives. Mike's a dead end. Mike's good for all-nighter orgies, we're hardly disturbed."

"And if we go down?"

Abby seemed miffed but answered anyway: "First Deck 11, Deck 10, counting down all the way to the lowest Deck 1. Eleven decks."

"So what's below Deck 1?"

"There's no 'below Deck 1'."

"But imagine. There are staircases and elevators and hatches from here to Deck 1. Why does it stop there? Imagine you'd take a cutting torch; what would happen?"

"What would happen? I don't know? Why..."

Abby was no longer just concerned, she looked a bit distressed.

I pressed on: "Would we find a hidden Deck? Deck Zero? And below Deck Zero? Or is it just steel, steel forever?"

"Charlene, you scare me!"

I realized I pushed too hard and I wrapped my arms around Abby. But I felt scared too. If there would be no Deck Zero and no steel, what else could there be? Nothing? I hugged Abby tightly, very tightly. Her bare skin touched against mine, I felt no lust, no desire to fuck, just fear and a desire to be held.

***

My sleep was troubled. I woke up, wanted to get out of bed, but Abby pushed me back onto the mattress.

"You're not going anywhere, Charlene," she said. "I called Finn, and reported that you were unwell; you have a whole week off. Sickness leave."

"And you?"

"I said I needed to take care of you." She smirked. "No one is ever ill, unless they have a major accident. Finn probably believes that you have a severe case of itching cunt; but that's just as well, we will take care of him later."

"It won't probably be enough to suck his dick," I sighed. "We have to volunteer for mucking out a septic tank."

"First mucking it out; then sucking the dicks of our team mates -and Finn."

Abby prepared breakfast; stir-fried aquaweeds, seasoned with herbs; orange juice; black coffee. Abby reminisced how we had probably hand-picked those herbs ourselves in Hydroponics. I took a sip of coffee; my finger followed the edge of my empty plate.

"Ship's like a plate," I said.

"Oh, no, not again," Abby muttered.

"We are on the edge. We can't go down, but we can get up. What's above Deck 15?"

My finger skims across the plate, from edge to edge, and back, halting in midway.

Abby stared at my finger, which now firmly points to the middle of the plate.

"There's nothing above Deck 15," she said.

I looked up to the ceiling of our cabin, making calculations in my head.

"Eventually, you'd be back at Deck 15," I said. I paused. "But what's in between?"

***

Later that day, Dakota came by to bring me 'Get Well' wishes from everyone in Farm Number Five. The get-well wishes obviously included hugs and kisses and pussy licking and a threesome. I was glad; I hardly craved to fuck today, but Abby had been nagging that her cunt did not get the attention it deserved. Dakota took very good care of Abby and her cunt.

They were still in bed fondling each other while I made them some tea.

"You know, Dakota," Abby said. "Charlene's not in the mood today."

"She's ill then," Dakota acknowledged. "Charlene's

always

in the mood. What's bothering you, sweetie?"

Dakota patted my ass, which was right in front of her. I said nothing.

"She's

thinking

, Abby said. "She's wondering if there's anything above Deck 15."

"I dunno," Dakota said. "Thinking's overrated. But I remember this story."

"What story?" I asked, suddenly interested.

"It was a ghost story. William, from Mechanical Engineering, told it once. Processing had distilled some moonshine, so we were having a party. Lucy promised she would suck the cock of the guy who told the creepiest story; William won. He said that there's a Deck 69, and that you could have incredible sex there, because there's no weight and you just

float

in the air."

"Has he ever really been there?" I asked

"We poked him, and he told there is a Deck 16, and they sometimes go there for maintenance. And he said there was an access to Deck 17, and that there really might be more Decks, even a Deck 69."

"Deck 69, duh," Abby commented. "I'll sixty-nine you, little wench."

"If the Decks are all the same, four meters from floor to floor, there must be about 250 Decks..." My head hurt because I tried to visualize what Deck 250 in the middle would look like. Abby and Dakota were no longer paying attention to me; they started making out again and paid only attention to each other's wet pussy. I retreated to the farthest corner of our small cabin. A plan was forming in my head.

***

First, I took care of Abby. After Dakota left, I retrieved the bondage gear, told Abby that I was really turned on but did not want to share her with others, and tied her up. This assured that there would be no warning, no blockades, no search and rescue parties. I dressed in running gear, sports bra, running top and tights, hair in a pony tail. Practical and unobtrusive. And I took off.

I figured Corridor 1 would be the first section for a reason. I checked out the corridor and found that Section Gulf was different: it partially consisted of massive steel blocks, the size of complete cabins. I had never seen these blocks anywhere else; or at least I had never noticed. Most staircases did not go beyond Deck 15, but I found a latched door labeled 'Maintenance use only'. Beyond the door, I discovered another staircase, and it went

up

; 20 steps and I found myself at Deck 16.

Deck 16 was open space; no dividers, only scaffolds for ducts and wiring, and the massive steel blocks.

I wandered around and surveyed the deck; this was so exciting! This was new, really

new

, not the more-of-the-same-newness of a cock I hadn't had in my cunt before. And there might be more, because of what Dakota told about an access to Deck 17.

I found the access a few minutes later; a fixed ladder which not only went down a shaft again, but also went up; at the top of ladder there was a locked hatch. Turning the wheel took some effort, but I had done heavier tasks at Hydroponics. The wheel turned, the lock unlocked, the hatch door opened.

I looked up, into an endless straight shaft with a fixed ladder.

Ladder climbing was tough. At Deck 69 I took a break. There was little to see; every deck had a small platform with a locked door. I had no choice but to carry on.

Somewhere around Deck 100, I realized climbing actually became

easier

. I felt lighter; after I passed Deck 150 I could skip steps; after Deck 200 I could heave myself up using my arms, and jump three or four steps at a time. I almost floated when the shaft ended at Deck 235.

There was a door; I unlatched and opened it.

"Welcome," a young woman said. She was lanky, having the thinnest arms and legs I had ever seen, extremely long fingers, and she was at least a whole head taller than I was. "I'm Jordan, and I reckon you must be Charlene."

I did not know what I wanted to know first, so I just mumbled and stuttered until I formed a coherent question: "How do you know my name?"

"I was waiting for you, Charlene. You did well, slightly more than a week."

"A week after what?"

"After you were inoculated. Please come with me."

We walked-floated along another shaft, perpendicular to the one I had used to get here, until we arrived at a dark room.

"Please stay calm. What I will show you may be very disturbing."

Suddenly the dark walls turned transparent. It seemed as if there was

nothing

, nothing but darkness, nothing in front of me or below me. I was

floating in nothingness

.

I automatically grabbed and clung to Jordan. I had always lived between walls; the Assembly Hall was the biggest room I had ever seen, and any room had always been bordered by walls. Now it seemed as if there were no walls. I tried not to faint, because even though I was scared shitless, I wanted to understand.

The darkness was dotted with small lights, and in the darkness I saw a form. An enormous round shape; the rim of a wheel in the distance, I saw three spokes connecting the wheel to the central nave. We were standing on the edge of the nave.

I pointed to the rim: "The Main Passageway is in there."

"Very good," Jordan said. "You are smarter than I expected."

"What's beyond there? Below Deck One? "

"It's Space."

"What kind of space?"

"Just Space itself."

I tried to understand.

Jordan made the walls opaque again, and took me to a small office.

"Were you taught to read?"

"Of course. I had to understand warnings and manuals."

Jordan gave me an e-reader: "What's on the screen?"

"

Or-fans of the Sky

, by Ro-bert..." I struggled with the last part: "Hein-lein."

"Try to read it," Jordan said. "Reading will become easier by doing it. There's more, a complete encyclopedia on anything from Astrogation to Zoology."

The next days, I hardly ate or slept; I devoured the documents that Jordan had given me. There was so much to learn! So much to understand! Jordan left me alone, and only returned after three days.

"Charlene, you need to eat," she said. "I brought some food. Let's talk during dinner"

We sat down and ate.

"It's the same crap I'm being served downstairs," I complained.

"It's aquaweed from the same Hydroponic tanks," Jordan acknowledged. "But it's healthy and satisfying."

She took a hearty bite of aquaweed herself and changed the subject: "Charlene, do you understand where we are?"

"This is a

generation ship

," I said. "A starship that will take centuries to cross the void of space between two planets."

I found it still difficult to fully grasp that there was more than Ship; that there was an enormous

void

outside Ship, that there even was such a thing as

'outside Ship'

. It had kept me awake at night; the idea frightened me immensely, but I was also immensely fascinated.

"Indeed," Jordan said. "This ship was built to bring colonists to a world which is currently being terraformed. It's aptly called the

'Robert Anson Heinlein,'

after the writer who invented the concept, and who was also smart enough to see one of its biggest pitfalls."

"People will forget it's just a ship," I said. "And start to believe that Ship is all there is." I took another bite.

"Exactly, and Heinlein chronicled this in great detail. However, the problem is actually even worse than he described. A future colonist must be intelligent, creative, and versatile; and those traits are hardly compatible with being cramped in a generation ship. Crewmembers have to be indifferent and docile. It's the only way to huddle 100.000 people in this tin can and give them this crap for food."

I nodded attentively: "So somehow these two characteristics have to be combined?"

"When Heinlein wrote his story, there was no genetic engineering. He could not even imagine the solution to his problem."

I swallowed another bite of aquaweed: "Us."

"Indeed. Both you and I are GEFs; Genetically Enhanced Females; together with the GEMs, the Males, we are the perfect colonists. But our Designers also designed us with a Master Switch; toggle the switch, and the intelligent GEF morphs into a numb nymphomaniac."

"Because sex starved hunks and bimbos actually want to be stashed together."

"Exactly. The switch is tremendously effective. Did you know that there's a Family Department?"

"No," I said.

"You actually spent the first part of your life there. But your whole memory is a blur, another built-in effect of flipping the Switch."

"How's it done?" I asked.

I had to read more about genetics, I told myself. I had eaten two full plates; my physical appetite was satisfied, but my intellectual hunger was only growing.

"Aquaweed. It contains a substance which activates a gene; that single gene activates and inactivates a whole plethora of other genes. You've seen the effect yourself."

"And we are immune."

"There's an antidote. A genetically modified virus which overrides the effects of aquaweed and toggles the Master Switch back. You probably do not remember the injection you received two weeks ago."

"Vaguely," I said. "I was in Medical after I cut my shoulder. I had sex with the nurse and returned to work."

"You were the first patient of her shift; so consider yourself lucky."

"And you woke me up from being a dim witted slut because we are almost at our destination?"

"Unfortunately not," Jordan sighed. "We are only halfway; neither of us will ever see our final destination."

"Then obviously you woke me up to bolster the crew?"

"The crew is at full strength. Actually, we are already overstaffed."

"So, why?"

"To be honest, you are just a QC sample. Quality Control to regularly test if the virus-antidote is still working. We have to do this every month; we can't run the risk of having inactive antidote when we finally arrive. If there's a problem, we'd have to manufacture new antidote here. So I observed you, and concluded the QC test is positive."

Jordan gestures to the empty bottle of water on my desk. "That bottle contained am antiviral. You drank it all; the antidote should be inactive again. You ate a lot of aquaweed; the Switch is flipped back again."

I stared wide eyed at Jordan.

"You can't do that to me," I screamed, my voice filled with disillusion and anger. "You can't sentence me to being a dumb slut again!"

"I can and I have to. And the beauty of it all; you won't know any better."

"You can't decide for me," I cried.

"It's good the Designers manipulated away any urge for physical violence. Otherwise you would in all likelihood hurt me."

"You don't appreciate how lucky you are, Charlene," Jordan continued. "On Ship, everything's the same, ain't never anything new. You believe that knowledge will satisfy you, but at the end of the day it won't save you from boredom and sorrow. You will be disappointed because you can't ever leave Ship and apply what you've learnt. You will feel lonely and frightened if you truly grasp the

void of Space

."

She sighed: "I wish I could live in the here and now, anything more than a week ago a pink blur; anything that's father away in the future than the next fuck... Just doesn't matter."

"So why don't you..?" I searched for words, they did not come easily. "So why don't you change?"

"I would if I could, but I can't. I'm an aberration, my Master Switch permanently turned off due to a mutation. Radiation exposure? Who knows; just bad luck probably. I was therefore raised

here

, in the Nave, in No-weight. I can't even descend below Deck 200."

Jordan got up. "I have only one form of R &R, one way to not think about my fate."

I noticed her nipples pointing through the thin fabric of her blue catsuit. She lowered the zipper, all the way from her neck to her crotch. The fabric parted a few centimetres, exposing a strip of bare skin. She wore no bra.

"The aquaweed's working, right?"

"Must be," I said, staring at Jordan's partially covered tits; my eyes following their curves, imagining what was still hidden under the fabric.

"Sex distracts." Jordan's voice was trailing. "You and I are not supposed to fuck, but the rest of the crew keeps a blind eye if I'm discrete about it."

I got up, and pulled the catsuit over Jordan's shoulder, down her arms; exposing her body, revealing her round tits. I fondled them.

"Orgasm is bliss," Jordan moaned. "

La petite mort.

"

My hand moved down to her tiny ass.

"You're so hot," I whispered.

"Make me forget."

***

I opened the door of my cabin.

"You're back," Abby yelled. "Charlene, you're back!"

We hugged.

Abby did not think twice, while we were still hugging she grabbed the handcuffs. I did not resist.

"I won't stray again," I promised.

"You bet you won't." Abby pushed me on the bed and tied me up. Arms above my head, legs wide apart; I was helpless.