The end of another shift, thought Lucas. He looked across the bridge at Hitchcock’s station and realised that it was empty.
The crewmembers readying themselves for the shift change began to chatter amongst themselves, discussing their plans for the evening. Lucas had no plans, just another night of balls ache as he waited for her message.
6 nights had passed since the locker on the recreation deck, 6 nights since her curt instruction – ‘…and no masturbation for you, boy. Not until I give you permission.’
Even though he was certain that she couldn’t observe him in his cabin, Lucas had restrained himself. Even after she had stopped him in the corridor on C deck, unbuttoned her jacket top, pulled aside her vest and made him lap at the single exposed nipple until it stood as hard and erect as he was, Lucas had restrained himself.
‘Patience, Wolenczak,’ she had said as she covered herself up again, ‘patience.’
6 days of abstinence and all he was aware of was the ache and the need she had created. He knew that if he had gone against her order she would have known and punished him accordingly.
25 minutes to go before the end of his shift and the screen chimed at him, discretely. The message was from her – “In forty minutes you will be at my quarters. You will have bathed. You will not be late. No underclothes.”
Lucas’ mouth was suddenly dry; quickly he destroyed the note and set his wrist watch timer running. Lateness was not an option. His pulse quickened.
30 minutes to go – he managed to get off shift a little early. Smiling to his shipmates he scurried from the bridge, trying desperately to disguise his erection behind a clipboard.
Quickly back to his narrow cell in the bowels of the ship Lucas grabbed what he needed and hurried off to the head. He wasted no time with his ablutions – Hitchcock had only demanded that he be washed and shortless when he arrived. All Lucas could hear was his ragged breathing as the cold water of the shower sluiced over him. He was acutely aware of the studded tiles beneath his feet, the needles of the shower and the ever-present ache.
The rough towelling he gave himself was an exquisite torture. Lucas left his cock and balls alone. If I so much as touch myself, he told himself, I’m gonna explode.
With barely 8 minutes to spare he was off to her quarters, thoughts of hunger banished. All there was was the need and the idea that release was mere moments away.
Lapse time of 38 minutes and 40 seconds – he knocked on her door. There was no sound from within. His cock was a solid lump in his trouser but there was no answer. He knocked again.
‘Enter’. Hitchcock stood in the middle of the room with a stopwatch in her hands and smiled at Lucas. ‘Wolenczak, good of you to come. In and close the door please.’
His hands trembling with desire, Lucas complied. He stepped further into the room. Hitchcock could see that he was shaking slightly, his jumpsuit trousers were distended in the front but he was making no move to touch himself.
‘Well done, perfectly to time. Why do you think I have asked you here this evening?’ Kate’s face remained carefully neutral throughout, her arms were crossed behind her, forcing her breasts to press against the material of her uniform, she cocked her head to the side.
‘For, for…’ Lucas’ tongue felt suddenly thick and unwieldy.
‘For sex?’ he nodded at her and her face hardened, ‘No Lucas, no sex for you tonight. Take it off. All of it.’
Lucas hung his head in shame. There was to be no release for him tonight. He undressed briskly, careful not to conceal himself from her.
‘Have you touched yourself, boy?’ Hitchcock gripped his chin and made him look squarely into her face.
‘No, Lieutenant.’ Lucas was glad he had refrained, she would have known for sure. He still blushed when she asked him questions like that, the tips of his ears began to colour.