Trfb Ch 3 The Assay

Red light flooded the space that I'd ended up in after my afternoon-into-evening exertions with Captain Kimma and Master Sergeant Y'Jaan. I was stuck to the wall in a spacer's hammock and had a bit of a time untangling and detaching myself.

"Commander Deck to Medical," a soft artificial - I thought artificial - voice chimed into the space in front of me. Four strobing strips of soft amber guide-lights marched towards the hatch to my left.

My balls were sore and full as all fuck. I knew I'd orgasmed magnificently and multiple times the night before, but literally nothing had cum of it. It was all still backed up in my balls and they ached something fierce. And they sure as heck wanted to get it all out.

Damn the Imperium and their dirty tech!

More, I felt like a gooey rag. My body was taut and refreshed after the exercise and a full night's sleep. I felt in fighting trim, but my skin felt tacky, and my mouth could use a good scrub with a bore cleaner.

"Can I grab a fresher first," I ask the air.

The maybe-artificial voice responds, "Request logged." Then, after a moment, "Confirmed, Commander Deck. Please proceed to medical and report to Colonel-Doctor M'Raatha as soon as you have completed your ablutions."

"Okay. Thanks."

The hatch that the guide lights are pointing to is vaguely in the direction of where I remember the freshers being. I kick off almost accurately, but I'm still getting my space-sense back. I manage to only bounce gently off one wall before I make the hatch. It dilates for me and I correct my course to the left with one hand on the coaming. The guide lights in the hall flicker then stop as soon as I turn towards midships.

"I see you know your way to the freshers, Commander," the sultry voice resumes. "I'll show you to medical when you're done."

"Thanks, uh - ship?"

"Please, call me Artemis," the voice purrs. An ethereal hologram of a voluptuous not-quite naked but not really clothed Terran-type female appears in the air ahead of me. She's projecting into my implants, I realize.

"I am the squadron's distributed AI," she says, floating in a perfect lotus position in my middle-vision. "Now that Artemis Down is docked with Artemis Main, I am fully integrated again and I can provide you any information, supplies, or services you may need across the reach of the entire squadron."

"Oh. Great. Thanks, uh... Artemis," I reply.

"De nada, duck," she giggles. "Anything at all," she adds for emphasis. A not-quite naughty smile curls the corner of her thick, ruby lips.

I reach the fresher and Artemis swipes her avatar to the top-left corner of my visual field to let me negotiate the mechanics. I strip off my ship suit and stuff it into the recycler. A fresh clothing packet appears in a slot above it.

I slip into the fresher, pull a bite stick into my mouth and clothing grab a couple handfuls of goo from the dispenser and start lathering myself up.

Artemis seems to watch as I do. I know - or suppose - she's got sensors all throughout the ships and probably elsewhere besides, so it shouldn't bother me, but the image of her avatar watching me reminds me unavoidably of her omniscient regard.

I lather all over and come finally to my still-perky morning wood. I slather my balls and cock with the goo and Artemis raises an eyebrow. "Remember, Captain said no ejaculating, so be careful," she teases.

l spit the bite stick out, near the end of its cycle. "I'm just cleaning it," I protest.

"So I see," she teased.

"Do you have to watch," I asked.

"I'm always watching, everywhere," she admits. I think back to my encounter with Y'Jaan and Captain Kimma yesterday and wonder how much of her was paying attention to that.

"You know what I mean," I say, waving a hand at where her avatar would be if it weren't just a projection in my implant.

"I thought you'd appreciate some company, and maybe some feedback," she giggles. Her avatar swims and enlarges into my central field of vision. She slides one hand down her belly and between her folded legs. Then she spreads her legs wide, her fingers covering where her sex would be and rubbing convincingly at her crotch.

"You. I... How do you even...," I stammer.

"What? You've got an objectively hot body, Commander. Any girl can appreciate that."

"I've just never had an AI rub her virtual pussy for me before," I tell her.

"Stick around, Sexy! I can do lots more with you."

I didn't pause to consider that much further. Rather, I started to think a whole lot about that and about the possibilities of a cybernetic hook-up with this objectively sexy and definitely interested AI, but I forced myself to stop and think about the engineering problem.

"Artemis, you're linked to the squadron's neural net, right?"

"I am monitoring and on call for all one hundred twelve biological squadron members, four major vessel AIs, thirty-two duty craft systems, four autonomous orbitals, and all squadron sentient and semi-sentient systems, Commander."

"Full bio and affect on the biologicals, yes?" Finished with the lathering up, I hit the gellit button and enjoyed the warm blast and the sensation of the fresher gel doing its work on my dirty birthday suit.

"Yes, Commander."

"You've seen me naked. Call me Aylen when we're in private, huh? At least when you're finger-dancing on your huhu while you watch me fresh."

She giggled at that. "Yes, Aylen."

"So, tell me. Seven females currently on the dropship, yes?"

"Eight," she corrected, "Lance Sergeant Hobyn arrived this morning and is with First Officer Syung now."

"Correlate medical readings for all but Sergeant Hobyn. Select data twelve hours before my arrival and compare to current readings. Analyze."

Scrolls of data points reel through my upper right field of vision and Artemis' avatar plants her chin in one palm contemplatively, still rubbing idly at her virtual sex with the other.

"All show elevated levels across these markers," she says as a sheaf of medical charts pop to the front of the data scroll.

I crack the now semi-solidified fresher gel casing and start to peel myself out of it, feeling refreshed and clean. "Put a word to it," I tell Artemis.

"The whole crew is significantly hornier now, Commander. Aylen," she corrects herself.

"Uh huh. Run diagnostic. Correlate the elevations in the squadron members' readings and your own subroutine catalog over the same time period."

It hardly takes the space of a breath. "Aelyn,

I

am significantly hornier as well, judging from the relative prevalence of subroutines concerned with sex, sexual functions, sexual interactions, interspecies sexual compatibility; key chemical, biological, and neuro-electrical indicators of sexual..."

I hold my hand up to pause her. I look at her floating in my vision. I pull the visualization closer until she appears as close as if we were standing toe to toe and I look into her eyes. "Why?"

Her eyes do a convincingly demure dart to the upper left and back and she curls her lush lips into a naughty grin. "Aylen, you're a very attractive man," she purrs.

"Not buying it," I say.

"It's true," she says, extending one virtual palm to caress my cheek tenderly. I can feel the gossamer brush of an induction field compressing gently against my freshly-defolliculated cheek. "Plus, there's the Assay."

"Explain," I prompt.

"Doctor M'Raatha's examinations this morning," she says, "If initial results are as her current dataset leads her to believe they will be, all female or female-analog squadron members are expectant that they will have an opportunity to couple with you as part of the field test. Thus, the elevated hormone, hormone-analog, and xeno-pheromone levels that I have registered."

Oh. "Oh," I say. A moment passes while I digest that. Then a stray thought pops up. "And you. You're horny because they're horny and you're plugged into them."

"Partly," Artemis demurs.

"Expand," I tell her.

"I hope to couple with you, too, at some point," she admits flatly.

Oh. Well. "I... I'm flattered, Artemis. I... guess I'll... I... I look forward to that," I say, feeling my tumescent cock pulse at the mental image.

"Oh, me, too, Sweetie," she purrs.

Then another few neurons align for me. "Wait. You said all female squadron members. Not crewmembers."

"Yes. All female squadron members. And female-analog. That includes semi-hermaphroditic and hermaphroditic species," she adds, with what sounds like a mischievous lilt.

"How... how many

is

that, exactly," I ask, not really wanting to hear the answer.

"Sixty-nine in total among those currently present for duty in this sector," Artemis says, matter-of-factly, "counting me, of course," she adds with a smile and a gentle flex of her virtual fingers. A tingle runs down my neck at her simulated touch and reverberates pleasantly in my balls.

"Oh. Oh, Artemis. I..." Just the thought of it is exhausting. And strangely exciting. "I have an appointment."

"Yes, you do," she says as I step out of the fresher and open my fresh clothing packet. It's pretty much the shipboard equivalent of a hospital gown, and ship socks. I slip on the over-sized, open-backed scrub top and step into the socks.

Artemis stands and turns, giving me a look at her broad, firm virtual backside and long, muscular legs. "Follow me," she says, "and enjoy the view."

"So much better than beacon lights," I say and she giggles pleasantly as I push off and follow her. Artemis leads me through the ship, through the ship's med bay, and through a hard-dock collar into a much larger laboratory.

I see Dr. M'Raatha tethered to a bank of instruments and bending over what looks like a microscope lens. Above it, on the display screen, hundreds of sperm magnified to the size of my fist swim and frolic.

Doc's ass cheeks spread out in gorgeous globes on either side of her breech clout. Her jet black, shiny spacer's skin looks like latex. Only it's skin. That somehow makes it even hotter. Her muscular legs ripple as she keeps tension on the toe holds that she's stepped into to keep herself in place. Her back is bare except for the thin straps of her sports bra. She's shiny all over and gloriously hot. Even her short, black hair glistens with a sexy sheen.

Artemis notes the change in my biometrics and sends me a file on Taucetian sexual anatomy and practices. I tag it for later reference if needed.

"Ah, Commander Deck. Refreshed, are you? Thanks for coming," the Doc says, turning towards me.

"I didn't have anything else on my schedule," I joked. Artemis retreated to the corner of my vision, blew me a kiss and walked away into the virtual distance. I'd no doubt she'd set subroutines to keep tabs on my upcoming 'assay', whatever that entailed.

"No? Glad hearing this," the doctor said and turned nimbly from her microscope to regard me. "This way, to be pleased," she said and guided me through a hatch into what looked like a treatment room with an overlarge suspensor couch in the center and an array of medical and laboratory equipment in a ring around it.

"Allow," she said, reaching for my hand. She hooked a toehold with one foot and guided me expertly onto the couch. "Gravity point six." I felt my weight - or part of it, anyway - gently return to pull me "down" onto the couch, while the doctor stepped nimbly to the floor. All three of her boobs sank into her sports bra with the transition, bouncing nicely as they did.

"So. Hmm," Doc says, settling onto a stool next to my shoulder. "It's your sperm we must investigate, and that's in your semen, and you have been making us much to take today, yes?"

I feel the yearning ache in my balls. "Oh, yes, Doc. I'm so very ready to make my contribution to science."

"To science, yes. To rebellion, too." She takes my hand. "Your sperm. Very potent. Also, very frisky. Will poke itself in just about any egg and thrive, I think. This we must investigate more. If potency of your sperm can be shared across species, we will be stronger. Strong to triumph over imperium."

"That sounds good," I say, not quite sure how I feel about an army of little

me

's of all types pew-pewing about the galaxy for the rebellion, but I'm game at the moment.

"So. Let us see," she says, reaching for my smock and pulling it off deftly. She looks me up and down. My rigid cock waves at her, defying the low gravity easily.

"Yes. Very ready," she remarks, pressing her face closer to my crotch to examine my cock. "Spread, please." She tugs gently on one thigh with her fingertips and I comply.

She reaches underneath me and her fingers probe at my aching balls. The pads of her fingers are warm and slick, but seem to soften as she examines and caresses me.

"Yeah," I remark. "They feel full as fuck. The sooner I can unload them, the more comfortable I'll be, Doc."

"Comfortable we can make you. Two ways," she says. "Natural is best for the science, artificial is acceptable."

"Natural would be..."

"Clean catch in a target vagina or vagina analogue," Doc says.

"Yours," I ask, hoping.

"If you wish. I would like that," she says, and I notice that her lips have lost their latex sheen. They've softened and flushed from jet black to a deep shade of purple. I'm thinking that's a sexual response but I'm too distracted to consult the file that Artemis left me.

"First we calibrate your baseline response, for optimization," she says, consulting a tablet at the bedside. "Inhibiter is on. Good. Relax now," she says and taps a couple of buttons on the side of the bed.

The bed tilts my head up and the bottom splits and folds to spread and lift my legs like a gynecologist's chair. Doc pulls her stool over and sits between my raised and spread knees. I watch expectantly.

"Never before with a Taucetian," she asks, looking up at me.

"No," I admit, "never."

"Happy I am to be first then," she smiles. She slides her right hand under her left armpit, undoes the retention strip and peels off her bra. All three of her shiny, round boobs float deliciously in the low gravity; two slightly higher and wider than they would sit on a human, the third below and between them.

I see the shine fading from all three nipples as they expand and stiffen, taking on the same deep purple as her lips.

"Relax, and think of baseball," she says. I wonder if it's a really inciteful joke or somebody was messing with the interspecies sex literature.

I don't have long to wonder, because she's pressing my cock to my belly with one hot, soft palm and bending her mouth to slather my balls.

I feel her tongue wrap wetly around one, then another, and then both of my aching testicles. She licks them all over and snakes her impressively large and agile tongue behind to massage my taint.

My cock throbs insistently against her hand. I moan my appreciation. "Fuck, that feels fantastic, Doc!"

She growls in her throat. "Milla," she says.

"Milla?"

"My mouth is on your genitals and your cock will soon be in my vagina. Call me Milla," she says, then resumes licking my balls slowly and thoroughly. I can feel the sheen of saliva she's covered them with start to drip from my sack.

"Fuck, Milla! Your tongue feels fucking fantastic."

"Feedback is useful," she mumbles into my nuts, "and arousing me." She licks up the base of my shaft and her tongue glides wide, flat, and purple up the underside of my shaft.

Her tongue is huge, thick, and intricately muscled. It slides out past her lips farther than most any human's could. It ripples and flows against me delightfully.

I watch as she slides me up her tongue and into her mouth. Her lips close around me and I feel the wet heat of her mouth bathe my cockhead as her tongue hangs out licking my shaft.

"Damn, Milla. Wow," I sigh, feeling my cockhead throb against the back of her tongue. "Your tongue is fucking amazing."

She opens her mouth wide and drags her tongue up my shaft until just my glans rests on the tip of it. Then her tongue splits. Or molds. Or something. Her tongue slides all around my cockhead and engulfing and encasing it. I'm

inside

her fucking tongue! It's like her tongue has a vagina in it and she's fucking my cock with it. It feels incredible.

With her tongue, Milla tugs my cock into her mouth and slides down my shaft until her plump, purple lips - now a lighter, almost violet shade - are wrapped around my cock. She starts fucking her lips wetly up and down on me while massaging my dick inside her mouth with her tongue-socket.

"Fuck. That's... wow, fuck! Oh, shit I'm gonna cum," I protest.

It's a long, excruciatingly pleasurable couple of minutes before I do. Her lips massaging my base, her tongue fucking my head, her thick, warm saliva slathering me and dripping from my balls pish me to the edge and hold me there a good, exquisite, long while.

When I erupt, there's the moment of disappointment that the inhibitor always triggers; when I know I'm going to orgasm but not ejaculate. Then I'm screaming and pumping my hips into Milla's hot wet mouth and waves of climax run through my balls and cock and flanks and chest. I cum nearly a minute, I guess. It goes on and fucking on. When it finally ebbs and recedes, I'm a sweaty, panting mess.

"Damn that was so good, Milla. Next time with the inhibitor off, eh?"

She pulls her mouth from me. My cock makes a double

skork-plop

sound as I slip from between her lips, and then as her extended tongue sock peels off of me.

"I'd like that," she says. "We'll need lots more samples after today if lucky." She winks at me.

"Rest a moment," she says, rising and fingering the bed controls. The bed reclines and returns to a flat, soft plane and expands so that it's wide enough for her to sit beside me. She looks at me fondly. "When calm, we will de-inhibit and begin collection," she says.

"Fuck," I exclaim.

"Yes, we will fuck," she says.

I chuckle at that and take a moment to speed-read a couple key sections of the file that Artemis left me. This looks like it's going to be fun.

"So. Do I get to play with those," I ask, indicating her lovely boobs.

"Are you hungry?"

"Um. I could eat, why," I ask.

"They are pleasurable to play with - for you; for me, too - but always producing," she says. "This you should know first."

She leans over me, her breasts dangling above my face, offered to me. I reach up and she grabs my wrist gently in one hand, guiding me to her top right breast.

"This one first, I think," she smiles.

I press my palm and fingers across the slick, shiny orb and pinch the centimeter-thick nipple. It flushes from soft purple to a lighter dark violet and stiffens under my touch, extending as it does.

The circle of aureola around it is the size of a large Bethnian sand shekel; purple, soft, and corrugated. a star pattern of flushed, pale flesh emerges around its circumference as I manipulate her breast and nipple.

I lift my head up, tug her dug towards me, and slide my mouth onto her nipple. She wraps one hand around my head, holding me to her, and she moans deeply as I start to suck. The nipple extends in my mouth, and I suck harder. First a trickle, then a warm flow of silky fluid washes over my tongue. Its... wow!

It's thick and has a sharp aroma; cinnamon and apple and brandy. It's unlike any milk. It's hot and delicious and I suck and swallow and suck and swallow greedily.

Doc pulls away. "You like?"

"I do."

"More?"

"Yes, please," I implore.

Doc stands and drops her breech cloth, then lays down next to me and lifts her left breast in invitation. "Not the same," she says as I pull the stiff nipple into my mouth.

It's not. I suck on her hot bud and there's nothing at first. I suck harder and she gasps. After a few hard sucks, I'm rewarded with a much thicker fluid; like a warm custard. It has the aroma of bearnaise and the taste of creamed wheat. It's intoxicatingly delicious and I suck and suck and thrill at the sensation of the hot meal sliding down my throat as I swallow and swallow.