--===THE AGREEMENT===--
The Agreement
"Roger that, Neptune Central. We're going to make a final
pass around Persephone, and then we will RTB."
"Very well, *Auckland*. Central, out."
Captain Stils clicked off the radio just as Angela came
into the cabin. Lt.(jg) Angela Warrick was his second in command.
Truth be told, she was the only other person who ever officially rode
in the *USS Auckland*, which was a small patrol vessel. It could carry
up to fifty people, but it didn't need them for a simple planetary
patrol.
Angela settled into her seat, glancing in his direction.
Her look immediately turned ugly. "Stop staring at me, you fucking
asshole."
The mood in the cabin was neither friendly nor unusual.
Mike Stils had been putting up with the lieutenant's frigid and
unfriendly behavior for the last five months. Truth be told, he was
getting horribly sick of her mouth, and was about ready to report her
to Command, when he'd changed his mind.
"We've got to do a run around Persephone. They're worried
that someone might be using the old base there."
"Whatever."
It took them only moments to reach Persephone's space.
When it had been discovered that Sol did, in fact, have a tenth planet,
back in 2102, half the science community was shocked. The other half
gleefully said, "Told ya!" It was most surprising that Persephone had
remained hidden for as long as it had. It was three times the size of
Earth. They'd built a base out here, but since nothing ever came to
the Sol system, the base had fallen into disuse.
Mike punched commands for the proper orbit around
Persephone. As soon as his hand pressed the last three keys, a loud
bang was heard throughout the ship.
"What was that?" Angela asked with a start.
Mike looked down at his board. "Engine malfunction. Oh,
shit. We're caught in the gravity well already. We're going to have
to set it down."
Mike punched a few more keys before pressing the key for
the radio. "This is *Auckland* to any Space Force vessel within range:
MAYDAY. We are suffering from engine trouble, and will be forced to
land on Persephone. We will attempt to dock at the old base, but do
not - repeat, DO NOT - know if we will be successful. Will report, if
possible, after landing."
Turning to Angela, he said, "Crash procedures."
"Aye aye." She was businesslike now, performing her job
adequately. He knew this was because she thought her life was in
danger. Angela Warrick was not happy to be in the Space Force. She
was only here to save up money for her planned college career, so she
could become some politician or bureaucrat or other.
"Base in sight. It would appear that the docking doors are
open," Angela said with some surprise.
There aren't any doors. The dock was protected by a force
field. I hope like hell it's *not* active..."
"It shouldn't be, the base is deserted..."
"Yeah, but the zero-point generators on that base can run
for centuries without repair. Well, only one way to find out. I'm
bringing her in. Prepare emergency reverse-thrusters."
"Reverse-thrusters, aye." She continued to flip switches
and press keys. He lined the ship up with the bay, and thankfully,
they passed through the door without difficulty.
"Reverse thrust!" Mike commanded. Angela pressed two keys
simultaneously.
"Reverse thrust activated." The patrol vessel shuddered,
and it didn't stop fast enough. The impact against the forward wall
threw Mike against his restraints, and it threw Angela into the
windshield, for she had - rather stupidly - not fastened her restraints.
"Oh, Damn it all to Pluto." Mike removed his restraints,
and stepped over to Angela, pulling her back into her seat. She was
bruised, but she was breathing. She was unconscious, however, and a
light slap did not rouse her.
*Well, whatever.*
Mike stepped into the airlock, donning a thin
thermo-pressure suit. Putting on his helmet and attaching his air
generator, he opened the airlock and stepped into the vacuum. He
stepped carefully across the floor; it had been months since Space
Force had ordered anyone to check out the base. He moved to the
control panel for the force field, and saw that the power indicator was
on, but that the system wasn't active. He booted the terminal, and
activated the force field. He saw the faint bluish tinge that
indicated an active field, and so he knew the system was operating
properly. He then began to pressurize the bay.
Ten minutes later, the bay was pressurized, and his
suit-mounted environmental monitors verified that it was safe. He
unlatched his helmet, and removed it, taking a deep breath. He
coughed; the air was dusty, but breathable. He stepped into the
chamber just off the hangar bay, but went no further. Having seen what
he needed to see, he returned to the *Auckland*.
He noted that Angela was stirring when he stepped into the
cockpit, retaking his seat. He pressed several controls, and then
flicked the radio to on.
"Neptune Central, this is *Auckland*, do you read?" Mike
repeated the call five times before giving up. He reset the system,
and tried again, to no avail. He flicked the system to off with
vehemence, and groused at it.
Finally, looking over at Angela, he said, "You awake yet?"
Angela groaned, her hand going to her forehead. When it
came away sticky with blood, she looked alarmed.
"Don't worry, it's stopped."
"How bad is it?"
"Your face, or the ship?" Mike asked caustically.
"The fucking ship!" she retorted heatedly.
"It's going to need major repairs. We've got to find a way
to call Neptune."
"The base. Certainly they had radios..."
"The door beyond the boarding chamber is locked."
"Oh, shit."
"Yeah. C'mon, let's get out of this heap."
"You sure it's safe out there? What about, I mean, it
could be toxic."
"Look, I powered up the systems. The environment checks
out fine. It is dusty, though, you might want to cover your mouth with
something." *Like a piece of titanium tape.*
The two headed out of the ship, and Angela moved toward the
door to the boarding chamber. Mike started to follow, but then said,
"Shit. I need to check on some things aboard. You go ahead, and I'll
be right with you."
Angela didn't bother to answer him, nor did she turn to see
him return to the ship. She looked over the control panel, but there
was nothing there she understood. As a lieutenant (junior grade), she
was only familiar with the operation of her own ship, and she'd never
been stationed planet-side before. She stared in mute frustration at
the system, but then walked into the boarding room. This was a small
chamber with only enough room for passengers to wait while their ship
was being readied for takeoff. The room was also used as the official
greeting point for dignitaries, not that Persephone had seen anyone of
higher rank than Captain Stils.
She was startled when he came in behind her and slammed the
hatch shut. He was carrying his helmet, but, she noticed, he did not
have a suit for her.
"What are you closing the hatch for?"
"Just in case anything happens to the power grid. You
don't want to be sucked into outer space before we get a chance to do
anything."
"Well, you could have brought *my* suit, you fuck."
"Oops," he said with no small amount of sarcasm. "No big
thing. I don't expect a power problem, it's just an emergency measure."
"Right." She moved over to the corner and sat down on the
floor. There were no chairs, no boxes or crates, nothing here to use
as furniture. It was just an empty room.
"So, what the hell do we do now?" she asked. "No radio in
here that I can see."
Mike looked around theatrically. "True. Well, let me go
use the terminal outside, and see if I can raise Neptune Central."
Before she could say anything, he'd slipped out the door, and shut it
behind himself. She thought to follow him, but didn't feel like his
puppy-dog just now. She remained in her corner, her knees pulled up to
her chest, her chin resting on them.
The noise was almost inaudible. She wondered, at first, if
she'd imagined it. But then it came again; the soft scraping of metal
on metal. The sound seemed to be coming closer, but it was from an
unwelcome direction: it was coming from the other side of the door to
the rest of the base. She knew there were no other people on this
planet. But what would be making that noise?
The noise grew louder and louder, until it seemed as if it
filled the entire room, and then it just stopped. By now, Angela was
shaking badly, and bathed in a cold sweat. Only a second later, Mike
opened the outer door, and stepped back inside. She had the insane
need to run to him and clutch him, but she fought it tooth and nail,
and finally started to get her breathing under control. She was not
cut out for this explorer shit, she was not a soldier. She was the
daughter of a senator, and she longed to be back in their comfortable
home. But these days, if you wanted to get yourself elected, you *had*
to serve in the military. It was just the way things went. She hated
serving under this pig, but that, also, was the way things went. Mike
Stils was a career officer, and he despised her as much as she despised
him. She knew this, but didn't care. Right now, all she knew was that
something else was here with them.
"Well, no luck getting a signal through, I'll try again -
what the hell's eating at you?" Her face was white as a sheet, and she
looked like she'd seen a ghost.
"You didn't hear that noise?" she said incredulously. Her
voice seemed very small and squeaky, even to her.
"What noise? No, I didn't hear a thing."
"It was metal-to-metal contact... like someone was moving
something across the floor. It got louder and louder, and then it
stopped." *Just before he came in... which means they know where we
are at all times!*
Mike looked at her dubiously.
"I am *not* making it up!"
Mike shrugged. "Well, whatever it is, unless it has a key,
it can't get through that door any faster than we can. We're stuck
here until I can figure out how to get a signal to Central. I don't
think I can repair the ship anytime soon."
Angela shrunk down on herself, shivering. "It's getting
colder in here."
Mike checked his suit thermostat. "It has dropped a
half-degree in the hour we've been here. You're imagining things."
She glared at him for a moment, but said nothing. She
wrapped her arms tightly around her legs, curling up into a tight ball,
sitting in the corner, saying nothing.
Mike was amused. It was interesting to see the snotty
little bitch cowed this way. He hadn't realized how incapable of
handling the out-of-the-ordinary situation she would be. He nearly
grinned, but that would have spoiled it. *Tough little bitch, back on
Earth, ain't ya? Out here in space, you're just another fucking wimp.*
-----
The evening meal was eaten in the boarding room. Neither
of them would trust their lives to the power grid, and Mike had told
Angela that, once opened, he couldn't get the airlock door to close.
He'd had to bypass the sensors just to allow both doors to open at the
same time. Their meal was the usual spaceman's food, normally eaten on
longer missions than this one was supposed to have been, but it was
kept aboard at all times, in case of, well, in case they crashed
somewhere and had to wait for rescue.
Neither of them spoke during the meal. They didn't speak
much at all, after their situation was clear. Angela only glared at
Mike, obviously accusing him of their current troubles. Mike didn't
bother to notice.
When the time finally came to bed down, Angela insisted on
going out and getting her space suit. She'd been feeling colder and
colder since they had arrived. She came back without it.
"Where the hell's your suit, Lieutenant?" Mike asked,
appearing very cross with her.
"Busted. It came off its rack, and the two main components
are busted."
Mike knew this already.
"Well, hell, it could have at least kept you warm. Didn't
you say you were cold?"
"It got torn on something, I don't know what."
"Oh." Mike knew that too.
Angela shivered in the cold. "How can this fucking place
not have heat?"
"It's not on. We don't have any environmental controls in
here."
Mike sat down, preparing himself to go to sleep. Angela
was obviously cold. *As she should be,* he thought, *it's down to
sixty-one in here, and dropping about a degree every hour.*
Angela moved around, stamping her feet, and trying to fight
off the inevitable. She couldn't ask the captain for his suit; it
wasn't something you did. Besides, it wouldn't fit, him being a good
eight inches taller than her meager 5' 1" height. She finally
relented, and sat down beside him.
"If you touch me during the night, I'll have you up on
charges."
Mike just looked at her, a strange expression on his face,
but he said nothing. She pressed herself up against him, trying to
settle in comfortably against the garment that, while soft and supple
from the inside, was rather bumpy on the outside. Finally, she managed
to find a comfortable way to lay. Mike put his arm around her
shoulders and pulled her in tighter. Encased as he was in the
thermo-pressure suit, he was actually rather warm, and the suit was
doing its best to pump his heat away. That heat radiated off him, and
gave Angela some amount of comfort. He checked his watch. It was
twenty minutes before she was fully asleep.
It was apparent that someone else knew this as well. Five
minutes after Angela began snoring softly, the heat to the room kicked
back on. In only another ten minutes, the temperature was rather too
warm, but the heat would keep her sleepy and resting. Mike got up
slowly, trying not to wake her. She shifted, pulling her legs up
against her body and lying on the ground, soundly asleep.
It didn't take long before Mike had completed the tasks
that were necessary for tonight's mission. It wasn't one Central had
asked him to perform, but that was okay; he'd do this one for free.
Well, in truth, it wasn't *really* free, but his price
wasn't paid in dollars, still the most stable currency in the Solar
system. He sat about three feet from Angela, watching her rest, for
another twenty minutes. That's when the noise came back. Mike noted
that Angela was right: it did sound very much like someone sliding
something metal over a metal floor. The reason for that was simple;
that's precisely what it was.
Angela was bolt-upright in seconds, her eyes wide in
terror. She'd just begun to focus when the inner door, the door to the
rest of the base, opened. In walked a tall alien, even taller than
Mike. It was mostly humanoid, though its head bore a strange
resemblance to a lizard, or perhaps a dinosaur. Its hands contained
five clawed fingers, and its eyes, a deep red, stared straight at her.
Its skin was mottled green and brown. It had no snout, though the nose
and mouth did protrude slightly, and its face was covered in small,
flexible scales. The alien didn't speak, but just stared at her. She
knew that it would kill her.
Slowly, Angela rose to her feet. She didn't pay any
attention to Mike, standing already, and not making any moves. Once on
her feet, she bolted for the outer door, to make her stand in the
spaceship. The door would not budge. She yanked and twisted and
pushed and turned, until a strong hand grabbed her wrist, and pulled it
around behind her back.
"Now, *Sweetheart*," Mike said, his voice dripping with
sarcasm and irony, "you're going to have a real hard time getting
through a locked door. And I can't let you go, anyway, because they
wouldn't like that."
"Let me go, you son of a bitch!" she screamed as he brought
her other hand around behind her back, and then held them together with
one large hand. He began to drag her back toward the alien. "What the
fuck are you doing?"
Mike took his free hand and grabbed her tit, hard. "I'm
fulfilling my part of the agreement. Mm, these feel nice. You should
be glad. Before I came along, this experience would have been much
more unpleasant for you. Now, well... you won't remember much, soon,
anyway."
The alien had stepped back through the door, and to the
side. Mike pushed Angela forward, toward what had to be a table,
though its top was raised almost to the vertical at the moment. Mike
pushed her forward, and then spun her around. Her arms flew out, and
Mike pushed her backward, holding her securely onto the hard surface.
Angela tried to beat him off, but the aliens - where had the others
come from? - grabbed her hands and soon had them secured into place
with metal clamps. Her feet followed suit, and soon she was strapped
solidly onto the table. She glared daggers at Mike as the table was
rotated back to the horizontal, and then she was wheeled away, out of
sight of Mike and the one remaining alien.
"This is the program I want," he said to the alien. It
nodded, but did not speak. There had only ever been one of them that
had spoken to him, and its English was so massacred as to be almost
incomprehensible. Only his instinctive understanding that they were
offering him something good kept him trying to translate.
The remaining alien walked away, following the screams and
curses of Angela Warrick. Well, he'd have to think of a new name for
her, actually. Perhaps Barbie? Nah, she didn't have the body for
that. She was a nice looker, though, with the auburn hair and the gray
eyes. Susie. He'd call her Susie. Never Susan; that had too much
dignity.
It was, however, time for him to get some work done. The
first thing he did was to unlock the outer door, and walk back to the
ship. He reactivated the airlock, so that it would shut properly, and
then walked back into the engine spaces. He walked down a row of
equipment, looking for the right one. He knew exactly what he was
looking for; after all, he'd been the one who had broken it. He
carried seven spares of this particular part on any given mission, just
in case. The repair took him all of twenty minutes. Finished 'fixing'
the ship, he moved forward to the cockpit, and sat in his usual seat.
He activated the radio, which had never been damaged, and called
Neptune Central.
"Neptune Central, this is *Auckland*, do you copy?"
"Roger that, *Auckland*, your signal is four by. Please
state your status."
"Central, the ship is repaired, and is now flight-worthy,
though it will require some repairs when I get back to base."
"Roger that, *Auckland*. Crew status?"
"Central, I am uninjured. However, Lt. Warrick did not
survive the crash. Also, a failure of the air containment field here
caused her..." Mike put as much emotion into his voice as he could,
"...her body to be lost to space."
There was a long pause on the radio. "Understood,
*Auckland*. Estimate your time of departure?"
Audibly struggling to pull himself together, Mike said, "In
about two hours, Central. I should be back at base in less than eight
hours."
"Understood. We will await your arrival, *Auckland.*
Neptune Central, out."
Mike clicked off the radio, threw back his head, and
laughed. It had been so easy!
When the aliens had approached him, out here on patrol all
alone a year ago, he'd accepted their deal mainly out of intimidation;
their ships were ten times the size of his own, and he could see the
weaponry. He didn't want to piss them off. However, when he'd finally
understood the deal, well... he couldn't pass it up!
He never understood why they wanted eggs from a human
woman. They never asked for sperm, and without sperm, you couldn't
fertilize them. What, were they a delicacy or something? Not that it
mattered in the least to Mike Stils. They had told him, point blank,
that they didn't give a shit about Earth in the great scheme of
things. Even with Earth's most advanced technology, they wouldn't be a
star-faring species anytime soon. They just weren't a threat.
But, Mike had delivered the product, and he expected to be
paid. He'd have to wait until they were finished extracting
Angela's... that is, Susie's... eggs, and then implanting or
rearranging or whatever it was they did to her so that her body would
not face the effects of having no eggs remaining in her body. There
were also some other things they were doing to her, and that was okay,
so long as they were quick about it. Mike looked at his watch;
twenty-five minutes. *Should be about time to go collect my payment.*
-----
Mike returned to the boarding room, and he only had to wait
five more minutes. His back was turned when the door creaked open, and
there stood two of the aliens - he hadn't yet learned to tell them
apart - and Angela. Mike smacked himself mentally. *Her name is
Susie.* Mike stepped forward, and the aliens, nodding, backed through
the door and closed it.
Susie's eyes were downcast, but Mike took the time to
admire her body. Her long auburn hair, now loosed from its usual pins
and ribbons, hung down to her shoulder blades. She was dressed in a
thin robe. It wasn't see-through, but he could tell she was chilled,
because she was shivering slightly. Her hands hung limply at her
sides. Someone might think she was catatonic, or depressed, but she
just hadn't been informed of her new life yet.
"How do you feel?" Mike asked gently. There was no point
in acting hostile; she didn't remember not liking him, anyway.
"Empty," she said, her voice hollow and quiet. "Sir, who
am I? What am I?"
He wrapped his arm around her, and she pushed herself into
him. He wasn't wearing his spacesuit anymore, as the temperature in
here was quite nice. "Well, your name is Susie. As for what you are,
you are my servant."
She looked up at him in gratitude for filling in the blanks
in her life. "How may I serve you, Lord?"
*Lord. I kind of like that.*
"Come, I'm sure we'll think of something." He thought of
taking her right in the boarding room, giving the aliens something fun
to watch, but no, it would be uncomfortable here, and he wanted to
enjoy his first time with her.
He walked Susie back to the ship. She made no mention of
the now-functional airlock. Of course, she didn't remember it being
broken, so that wasn't unusual. Once inside, he led her back to his
quarters.
Captain's quarters on a patrol vessel were not exactly
luxurious, but they were slightly better than those of the rest of the
crew, whatever there might be of it. He led Susie in, and, just out of
habit, closed the door.
Susie was waiting for him, her eyes looking just below his
chin. Part of whatever it was they had done to her is that she would
never be able to look another person in the eyes again, at least not
without a direct order at the time.
Mike moved over to her, walking all the way around her.
She was almost a different person, but... that was okay with him,
because he hadn't liked the one she'd been. While he was behind her,
he unfastened the garment, and then pushed it off her shoulders,
allowing it to puddle on the floor. His hands moved to her tits,
cupping them, and Susie gasped at the sudden pleasure, arching her back
to push her grapefruit-sized breasts into his palms. Mike squeezed and
fondled her for quite some time, just enjoying having this former-bitch
writhing under his touch.
Finally, he stopped, and pulled her, gently, around to face
him. He undid his uniform, which was a navy-blue flight suit. He
kicked off his boots as he pulled the suit off, and then he peeled off
his briefs. Susie stood watching in rapt attention as her Lord
undressed. Finally finished, Mike sat down on the bed, looking at his
prize. She was a beautiful woman, and now she would make a very nice
slave. *His* slave. He hadn't kept any of the others, but this one,
he was going to keep. The others had given him a very tidy little
income, having been sold off for enormous sums.
Bringing his attention back to the girl in front of him, he
motioned her to him. She walked forward, and was about to sit on his
lap when he shook his head.
"Kneel."
Susie immediately did as ordered, looking at her master's
erect cock as she knelt on the floor.
"Whenever you're kneeling before me like this, your mouth
should be on my cock," Mike instructed.
Immediately, Susie bent forward, her small hands lightly
gripping his shaft, and her lips parted as the head of his prick
slipped in. One hand slipped down to fondle Mike's balls as her tongue
slipped wetly against his cock. Slowly, her lips traced down the
length of his shaft, until her nose was buried in his pubic hair. Her
mouth worked on his cock, sucking at it, trying to milk his seed from
his balls. Her fingers danced over his nuts, trying to tickle the cum
out of them.
Soon, Susie began to pull her mouth off his cock, at that
same maddeningly slow pace. It had been a few weeks since Mike had
gotten any, and this was driving him crazy. Up and down she went, not
quickening her movements at all, until Mike had all he could take.
With an enormous grunt, he blasted his load into her mouth. Susie took
it all, without concern or complaint, as a good cocksucking slave
should.
She continued to suck on his cock long after his orgasm was
finished, and he allowed her to continue, trying to recover from the
mind-shattering climax. It was only a few minutes before his prick was
back to full-mast, and he pulled Susie off his dick, pulling her onto
the bed, and rolling her onto her back.
Susie parted her legs, and Mike moved in above her. She
was more than ready for him, and he could see the look of lust in her
eyes, though she still would not look at him. He positioned himself,
and pressed home. Susie cried out in passion as Mike's prick slid
deeply into her cunt.
Mike wasted no time, but set up a good rhythm, slamming
into Susie's luscious twat. Susie lifted her hips to meet each and
every one of Mike's thrusts, screaming out her pleasure each time he
bottomed out. The two were thrashing together like wild animals, and
their grunts and groans filled the small cabin
Mike was close to coming, and he didn't think he could
resist his urge much longer. He reached down, groping Susie's tits and
twisting her nipples lightly. She was soon rising to her own orgasm,
driven on by the powerful sensations rolling through her body. Mike
rammed into her one last time, and froze, groaning out loud as his body
froze in place, his cock spurting his seed deep into her pussy.
Susie, feeling the cum of her Lord and Master flowing into
her, was immediately wracked with the biggest orgasm of her life. She
was happy, and she was fulfilled, and she was sated, as her body
trembled through her orgasm's aftershocks. The two of them were quite
exhausted by the time they'd settled down, and they lay beside each
other on the bed, trying to catch their breath.
-----
After another hour, Mike had to get up, and prepare the
ship for departure. He left Susie where she was, and entered the
working portion of the ship. He moved around, fiddling with settings
and computer panels, making sure he hadn't actually damaged anything in
that fake crash. In truth, he had dinged up the ship pretty bad, but
it was all superficial damage; none of it would affect the ship's
performance or safety at all.
Finally, he slipped into the cockpit, and settled into his
command seat. It was then that he looked out the windshield - strange
that they still called it that - and saw that the aliens were standing
there, watching him. He wondered what that was about, but as soon as
they saw him, they bowed, and then returned to the boarding room,
shutting the door, and, he was sure, locking it from the inside.
*Well, nothing to concern myself about. Maybe they were
just wondering why I'm still here.* Having everything in the ship
ready for departure, Mike put on his space suit, and headed outside to
deactivate the air-maintenance field. First, he depressurized the
hangar, so nothing would blow out into space... like himself. Then, he
deactivated the field. The faint blue glow disappeared, and everything
appeared to be just fine.
Making his way back to the ship, Mike considered his good
fortune of the last year. He'd finally gotten himself a girl, just
like his Mom had told him to. Of course, he didn't think his mother
would approve of a slave-girl, but he didn't plan on introducing them
to each other, so that was okay.
Once back inside, Mike activated the final countdown for
launch, which was an absurdly stupid thing to call it these days, but
some traditions had been kept. He slowly backed the ship out of the
hangar, and had no problems turning the ship to face Neptune. Punching
four keys, he activated the ship's hyperdrive, and he was immediately
hurtling toward home.
-----
Back in his quarters, "Susie" woke up from her nap. As she
opened her eyes, for just a fraction of a second, her eyes were not the
gray eyes that Mike loved so much. They were, instead, a deep...
dark... red.
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