Chapter I: Sharing
Mission log: mars mission, day 47
Holly rocket,
Date: 4-18-2057
It's boring and lonely on this ship. Most of the other crewmembers are succumbing to isolation sickness. With all our technology, we still cannot overcome boredom.
My name is Holly Rocket; I am 26, with red, flowing hair. This is the forty-seventh day I have been locked in this ship on its way to the red planet. It is the first manned mission to mars. After the first failed attempt decades ago, we have been ultimately experimenting and trying new ways to reach our sister planet. Every attempt has either failed, been canceled, or disappears on route. It is our job to find out why.
It is hard to maintain sanity in these metal walls, but harder on earth. The federated government of the planet earth has deemed anything enjoyable as blaspheme. The entire earth is one boring, regulated heap of dirt. I signed up for this mission, hoping for a change. All its been is one tin can of boredom.
A very liberal minded family raised me. They taught me to enjoy life, rather than be a clone. I am still a virgin (thank god) but I still get to unleash my primal urges from time to time. It might seem odd that a person like me was raised among such a moralistic, dull atmosphere, but I have kept with earth law and only experimented, and not broken my virginity yet.
On the earth, the thought of the boredom crossed my mind, but not regularly. It just lingered for a time. I talked to the mission physiologist about it. He simply told me that if I ever should become bored, just go into the thought rearrangement pod, and it would take my boredom away. Thanks, but no thanks! Whenever I go into one of those things, it felt like my brain was smashed, its pieces collected, and then stapled back together.
So I decided I needed a second opinion. I went to Tyrell Benice, an old high-school friend. He gave up the life of a cushy, 6-number-salary FED doctor to live a life of an unaccredited, illegal drug dealer and ancient medical practitioner. He gave me a device that hadn't been used in decades. It was called a vibrator. It was a medium sized gold stick that some what resembled the male penis. He said it was a device used in the late 20
th
century. It apparently gave women pleasure when they couldn't find it anywhere else. It was outlawed when the federal earth government took power (apparently because of their immoral implications). At this point, I was desperate.
I was lying on the bottom bunk of me and my roommate's bunk beds. I was pretty sure her shift wouldn't be over for another two hours. So, I got into my underwear, put on my stockings (which I love to wear at any session), and pulled it out of my bag. It was still in its case, I didn't wants it lying around anywhere, so someone could find it and report me.
I slowly opened the box and pulled out the device. It shimmered in the dark light. It was about 8 inches long, and did somewhat resemble a penis. There were indentation and ribs along the side, probably to heighten the entire experience. I knew where it went; I just didn't know how to turn it on. I took it out of the case and looked around it. I saw a button on the bottom of it. I pushed it in and the stick began to vibrate. I knew this meant it was on. So, without delay, I pushed aside the fabric under my pussy, and stuck the device inside. I made sure not to pop the cherry. The sensation was kind of dull at first. Nothing different or strange.
Then, the feeling set in. The vibration began to stir up the liquid inside of my pussy. I could feel it bouncing and shaking. Slightly, my little cunt began to moisten. I started to lightly push the stick in and out of my pussy. Beads of sweat formed across my body. It felt like I was losing control. I bit the top of my lower lip to keep from screaming. I closed my eyes and began to fantasize. I imagined this longhaired Spaniard with a ten-inch penis. Or, my secret crush, captain Lillard, the captain of this mission. I could imagine him sitting me on his desk and pounding into me with his massive penis.
"What are you doing?"
Said a feminine voice to my left. I opened my eyes. It was Tamalia, my bunkmate. She was about my age, black, tall, with supple breasts and brownish blonde hair. Her eyes were wide in shock and her hand was over her mouth in a hushed gasped. I looked at my clock; it had been two hours already! I was so embarrassed. I quickly used my blanket to cover my body. "Go away!"
"What was that you were using?"
"Just leave me alone!"
