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Message-ID: <29590asstr$985731004@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Peter Dee" <peterpan@888.nu>
Subject: {ASSM} {ASS} Q and A {bugsex} (ScFi F+F FF bd nc)
Date: Tue, 27 Mar 2001 17:10:04 -0500
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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<1st attachment, "interog.txt" begin>


---------------------------------

Do not read this tale if you are under 18 years of age.
This tale contains explicit sexual content with non-consensual
and bondage themes. It may be a crime for you to read it.

On the other hand, there is no significant sadistic element and
no snuff.
(I hate reading tales in suspense of how much yuck they will decend
 to)

______________________________

Please write or visit!

peterpan@888.nu
http://www.freeadult2000.com/bugsex
______________________________



                       Q&A.

               Copyright of Peter Dee, 2001

   Love, betrayal and electrostimulation among lesbians in the far
      future; all made possible by some very bad language. 







 Here I am, Anna Jane. Intrepid investigator. My first time.

 I knew the wires were secure, the microphone taped between my
 breasts heard everything and a dozen TerraPol officers would be
 instantly on hand if things went bad. There was nothing to be afraid
 of. TerraPol doesn't abandon it's own.

 This was my first time though. I had worked so hard to be
 accepted but, till tonight, I had been stuck behind a desk. That is
 one of the reasons I leapt at the chance of this assignment without
 really considering the sense of it.

 Maybe it was all some sort of initiation prank. The whole thing had
 seemed pretty unprofessional at the time. But I had to follow
 orders. And I wanted to be accepted at any cost.

 So here I was dressed in jackboots and latex hot pants, leather
 leggings and a leather jacket that didn't reach my navel. A young
 crewgirl of the ship I was meant to infiltrate currently had her hand
 around my waist and her fingers tucked into my belt. She was
 called Red. She was some sort of pirate. I already had plenty of
 evidence. She was practically bragging about how many crimes she
 had committed against the human race. It seemed to me her verbal
 admissions alone were plenty to justify a search warrant of her ship
 right down to and including a cavity search of it's captain and crew!
 Why play this out any longer?

 I had intercepted her in a spacedogs bar. She was a loose-lipped
 drunk and easily manipulated into promising a tour of a real
 spaceship in turn for unspecified fun. TerraPol would step in before
 I had to make good on my side of the bargain, I hoped!

 Giggling like this was a schoolgirl prank, Red had sneaked me
 onboard and maneuvered me through the labyrinthine engine room,
 attempting to avoid the other crew. We almost made it. We were
 almost at her cabin when around the corner came the captain,
 flanked by four crewgirls. How confidently they swaggered!
 Pirates, and they looked the part. No, that is not entirely true. The
 captain had a careworn, rather than carefree, look to her. The
 crewgirl to her right, however, would have made a fine young pirate
 captain in any trashy romantic eyetickler. Not that I peruse such
 pulp. It would certainly be frowned upon for a TerraPol agent.
 Illusions aside the facts were these: we upheld the law and
 protected humanity. They spat on both. My life would not be worth
 much if I were discovered-- and if there were not a dozen highly
 trained TerraPol ready to whisk me to safety at the first sign my
 cover was blown.

 Still, I took the time to commit her rather tasty image to memory.
 At home, in bed, in my mind, she could be as nice or nasty as I
 wished.

 Red stopped and saluted. The captain nodded, then her eyes
 swung to me.

 "Quite a catch there, Red. Set you back a bit, I suppose." Her tone
 was casual, her face was casual but she was suspicious. Her eyes
 had lingered on me a bit too long.

 Red laughed. "Nah. She's free. Practically threw herself at me.
 Never seen the inside of a spaceship." 

 "Don't you go showing her anything outside the inside of your cabin,
 Red." Cautioned the heroic looking girl on the captain's right. First
 mate, I guessed. I'll call her Spikey. She had short spikes and a
 hard expression; aimed at Red right now, not me. I wasn't far
 wrong as it turned out. 

 "Never intended to," Red replied with childish slyness. I believed
 her. Help! Where was my backup? Spikey ignored the innuendo
 and smiled chivalrously at me. Something glinted in her eye. "You
 must really have wanted to see the inside of a spaceship, girl."

 This was getting too sticky for my liking. I tried to look as cheap as
 possible. "Bet you could show me more than a cabin, sweetheart."

 Spikey snorted. My gambit had worked. That glint was gone from
 her eye, replaced by disdain. They were going to ignore me after
 all.

 They would have ignored me, I would have got away with it. They
 would not have discovered me and all that was subsequent would
 not have happened to me IF..

 ..IF at that instant a grainy voice had not rang out from a hidden
 speaker, dripping with gloating sadistic glee. "She makes a
 convincing slut, doesn't she."

 It came from under my shirt. From the microphone my fellow
 officers had helped me tape there. "Almost as good as her
 impression of a TerraPol officer, wouldn't you say..."

 It felt like being punched in the gut. I wanted to be sick. My pulse
 was deafening in my ears as my brain tried to absorb the fact that I
 had just been murdered. And I knew that voice. It was the smiling
 voice of the same sergeant whom had told me not to work so late,
 not to waste my life chasing discrepancies in paperwork filled out
 by illiterates.. The same, whom had came into my office only hours
 ago and congratulated me on finally getting what I had been asking
 for. A chance at a real mission! I remember being so elated, and so
 annoyed. I had suspected them of giving me that desk job to bore
 me out of the force. Though it bored me to tears I had approached
 it like a detective. And found discrepancies. I knew who and
 suddenly I knew why.

 The pirates had recoiled as if I were plague itself. They were
 looking at me with horror and disgust. This wasn't the way it was
 meant to end! Even if the villains killed the heroine here, weren't
 they meant to praise the heroine for her tenacity first?, or say
 something like "You and I, we are the same.." That is how it always
 worked in the EyeTicklers. Instead they looked as if they might
 stamp me to death rather than touch me with their hands. As one
 might kill a cockroach. It was not enough. I had not lived enough
 life yet.

 No one spoke. After a gap the voice began again. "Hmmm.. This
 thing IS working isn't it?"

 I don't know why I gave him the pleasure of answering. I looked
 around at the ring of hate filled faces. "It is working, sir" I answered
 quietly.

 As if my words had broken a spell, they lunged for me. I got in only
 glancing blows before my arms were pinned behind me, the last of
 the rest of my life that mattered spent. Spikey strode forwards with
 ice in her eyes. She ripped open my shirt to expose the concealed
 mike taped there, and the wires winding around to the transmitter
 between my shoulderblades.

 "You should have known your place girlie," the voice tutted
 smugly, " You should have known your place."

 The captain strode forwards as if to hit me. The blow never struck
 but it may as well have. "What is the meaning of this?!!" she
 demanded, almost shouted at me in her fury. I couldn't get any
 sound past my lips. But it wasn't me she was speaking to after all.

 "We had a deal. I have just delivered on my part of the
 bargain."

 "The bargain was for information."

 "She has it. When she isn't out looking for a good hard fucking
 she works in records. A bit too nosy for her own good."

 "So you decided to kill two birds with one stone."

 "I decided to feed one to the other." The voice disappeared with
 a click.

 "Kill that," the captain said casually, gesturing to my breast. The
 mike was ripped off me and crushed under a booted foot.

 "Damn him!" she exploded the instant it was done. "This is less than
 we paid for; and I hate being played......Still..." A slow smile took
 her as an idea occurred. "A captured Reich agent..... "

 For a second she inspected me, then she spoke to me. I did not
 really understand her at the time. " All their lives this crew has lived
 in fear of people like you. Fear paralyses, girl. You are learning that
 right now aren't you.. Well they won't be afraid of you soon."

 She turned to Spikey. "First mate, get the information out of her.
 That is your first priority. But the crew will find out we are
 entertaining a Reich agent and that could cause problems. Tell them
 she will be turned over to them AFTER we have the required
 information. I want a Full Channel feed of the interrogation sent to
 my room."

 "Secured?" Spikey asked, puzzled.

 "Unsecured!"

 "Vassy and Sal will be circulating Ticklers of it before it is even
 over," protested Spikey. "Jonesy will probably have it playing live in
 the mess-hall before we have even started!"

 "Exactly."

 The captain turned and strode away, leaving me in the hands of her
 crew. At the corner she stopped and turned back to us. "Oh, and
 Red, escort yourself to the brig. Stay there till further notice." Then
 she was gone.

***

 They pulled my jacket back, trapping my arms behind me. Forced
 me to kneel as stuncuffs bound my wrists, then my ankles, then
 wrists to ankles with a third pair so I was hog-tied. Tension on the
 links drove cotton-wadded spasms up my arms and legs. I grunted
 involuntarily. "Morons!" I cried, finally regaining my voice, "I'm
 TerraPol. They'll get you within the day".

 Gravity twisted. The ship was lifting!

 Spiky spun me round by my flapping shirt, bunched the collar in her
 fists and pulled my face to hers. "TerraPol sold you to us. For
 services rendered. Who is going to miss you?"

 "You're lying! It wasn't TerraPol. TerraPol doesn't sell its officers."

 "Like it sells it's citizens?" She twisted her head to one side,
 revealing the faint silver bar-code on her cheekbone. A slave scar.
 "We have all been sold. You're just a tiny piece of payback,
 sweetmeat."

 "I'm not your meat! TerraPol doesn't sell it's officers." But it
 sounded weak even in my ears. I had only been in the force a few
 months and never felt accepted. 

 At Spikey's command they tugged me to medbay and strapped me
 into the examination couch. Arms clamped behind me. While two
 held my legs she removed my belt and peeled the leathers down to
 my ankle-boots. "I won't tell you anything!" I spat. She raised one
 eyebrow but said nothing. Her confident smirk said it all. The ship
 had put to space. That probably meant they didn't need my
 information until they reached their destination. One month, if they
 hadn't changed their flight plan.

 They strapped my legs tightly into the stirrups, below the knees and
 above the ankles. The pants still bound my naked legs together, and
 the stirrups were currently together but, this couch could support a
 woman giving birth, among other things. The sanctity of that
 moment had nothing to do with where I was now.

 I felt the press of cold metal against my temple but before I
 identified the instrument the act was done. For a moment the drill's
 buzz shook my teeth in my skull but I didn't feel the actual
 penetration. They had just shot something into my brain.

 Spike ran her hand over my thigh possessively. Her skin was dark
 against mine. It made my flesh look like coveted fine china. To her
 it was. I shivered involuntarily.

 "If you could see how you looked in my eyes... If you knew the
 things we are going to to you.... You wouldn't be struggling." Her
 face slid up to mine. I could feel her breath on my ear. "You'd have
 fainted dead away."

 I tried to bite her. Her lips hovered just out of reach. I spat. She
 dodged easily and the spittle arced back, slowly in the weak
 gravity. She did not let it hit me. She caught it in her own hand, then
 licked the hand dry. Why? why didn't she let it fall on me?

 "Because I like you." she replied simply. She read my mind! Or did
 she just guess?.

 The screen behind her flickered to life. There was a jumble of
 images that were familiar somehow, but one window was filling with
 text that would change as it scrolled. One of the lines said <WHY
 DIDN'T SHE LET IT FALL ON ME>

 "That nanoware we shot into your skull. One of it's functions is to
 decipher your verbal-symbolic thoughts. So you see, you don't
 need to tell us anything; just think it."

 Nothing! I thought, and the text was dutifully produced. Nothing!
 Nothing! nothing!

 "It appears to be working satisfactorily. Mute her." A black
 studded collar was placed around my neck and switched on. It
 paralyzed my vocal cords and the muscles in my neck. I could
 move my jaw, but weakly.

 "It's for your own protection. Don't want you biting your tongue
 off."

 <DAMN YOU>

 My jacket had already been lost when they had strapped me to the
 couch. Spikey had already ripped the buttons off my shirt when she
 had removed the TerraPol microphone. Not content with that she
 now ripped it so thoroughly to shreds that only the cuffs remained,
 and slid her hand under my bra to cup one breast. The nipple was
 surprisingly, painfully hard. I grunted, tried to pull back. She was
 only playing. The bra was rolled off my shoulders and down to my
 waist.

 My breasts jutted ridiculously, sharp and conical in the low gee. I
 could do nothing but think curses as she rolled the nipples in her
 fingers, applying some sort thick grease from a tube. When had it
 become so hot in here?

 <WHY AM I SO HOT?> The machine betrayed my thoughts.

 They laughed at me. My cheeks burned red with shame. Why
 should I care what they thought of me? they were going to torture
 me for information and just plain sadistic amusement. A month to
 die in. I began to sob, from the lungs because the collar paralyzed
 my voice. So it came out sort of like laughter.

 "We're not gonna hurt ya." Spikey stated firmly. "What we got in
 mind is much more fun" I didn't know what she meant. It didn't
 sound good but, simultaneously, I had already expected the worst I
 could imagine. How could any surprise not be a pleasant one?

 Spikey flicked my right nipple, hard.

 <Ouw!>

 "Sorry," she smirked lopsidedly. "Just calibrating the hardware."

 Someone patted electrodes to my aureola. Specially designed for
 just that task. Rubberized wires terminated in thin floppy rings that
 let the greased nipple poke through. The grease must have been
 conductive gum. A nice even contact. At least that would prevent
 spot-burns, my engineering knowledge reported inanely. 

 Spikey held a remote pointed at my chest. "Ready for your pleasant
 surprise? Lets have a countdown. Ten. Nine. Eight..."

 So this was how it began. This was their "'not gonna hurt ya'
 pleasant surprise". The fuckers. I tried to shake the contacts free. I
 shook my chest violently, swinging my breasts to and fro, up and
 down, to no effect other than to set them bouncing idiotically. 

 "Seven, Six, Five, Four.."

 I cursed them as I fought, filling up their damn printout with
 unprintables.

 "Three,.."

 I went still. breathing deeply. Glaring at Spiky with hatred and
 betrayal. "Two" she said, smiling gently. My lip trembled
 involuntarily, mouthing the word.

 "One." Click.

 Current arced through my breasts. Sensation ripped through my
 aureole, my arms, danced over my lips as I threw my head back
 and mutely screamed, as I arched my chest forward in a primitive
 mindless need to present as much skin as possible to the exquisite
 pleasure arcing, crackling across my nipples.

 It ended. I collapsed in my bonds. Seconds passed before I could
 take a breath and release it. Panting, head lolling, mind reeling in
 confusion, I turned my eyes to Spikey; but I have no idea what was
 in them. I watched unresisting, as if from a distance, as she bent
 forward and placed a gentle kiss on my lips.

 My lips were scratchy dry. I moistened them with my tongue.

 "You WILL tell me everything." she whispered.

 "Wha... what.. was that?" I gasped out in silence, before I thought
 better of it.

 "Pleasure," she replied with a pitying smile. "Has it really been so
 long?".

 They had rewired my head. Shorted my pain sense directly into the
 pleasure centre of my brain. But there had to be a payback. I
 remembered a study where an electrode was stuck into a labrat's
 brain, into it's pleasure centre, and it would keep pressing this
 button, zapping it's brain till it starved. I remembered
 pleasureheads, giving themselves cigarette burns, pushing safety
 pins through their flesh. Would I end up a drooling pleasurehead?

 "No," Spikey said. "The difference is, you're bound into this nice
 comfy chair. Your arms are clamped behind you. Your legs are
 clamped into these stirrups, with the comfy-est firmest straps. You
 CAN'T hurt yourself, so you can't pick up a habit like of hurting
 yourself."

 Sudden pleasure scorched my breasts. "You also don't control this
 button."

 "Now, here are the rules. I am going to ask you questions. I am
 going to zap you. Don't go looking for patterns, that's my job.
 There are no rules about what I ask, when I reward, or how much."

 "First question. Are you a virgin?" Before I had even absorbed the
 question, mad spasms wracked my body as she pressed the remote
 once, twice, four times. Warm dampness flooded my underwear
 and I clenched my thighs together.

 <FUCK YOU> 

 "What is your login"

 <LICK MINE>. Pleasure arced through me.

 "Where do you like to be touched."

 <UP YOUR ARSE, CUNT>. Every question she asked, I
 responded by filling my mind with obscenities and curses. I never
 knew I had so many in me. Spikey was patient, zapping me after
 almost every answer, till the times when she did not felt like
 emptiness, void, a lover's disapproval. But there was no pattern
 that I could see. Occasionally she would stop and wipe my breast
 and brow with a damp sponge. Sometimes this was just a trick and
 instead she would buzz me so long that she would have to blow air
 into my lungs to stop me passing out. All I gave her in return were
 descriptions of all the obscene things I would do to her if somehow
 she were ever as helpless as I was. Yet my emotions were so
 misused that I also thought myself in love with her, towards the end.
 Don't try to understand, because you couldn't possibly. She didn't
 know. If she had just invited one of the other girls to kiss her I
 might have snapped then and there and told her anything to keep
 her mine. Instead, I just couldn't bear to break in front of her and
 have her secretly disappointed in me. Love is a fucked up thing. I
 could actually feel it when I finally tore in two. Things got easier
 after that.

 I came out of a fugue to find she had stopped. I glanced at the
 screen. Good. Just junk. Did I really say all that stuff? Only then did
 I notice my legs spread in the stirrups, new wires attached to my
 inner thighs and to bits of me I won't mention. When had all this
 happened? I could still feel the warm afterglow of current induced
 pleasure in my twitching extremities. Even bound like that I had still
 managed a slouch of total exhaustion. Thinking back, I could
 remember it all dimly, as if it had happened to someone else.

 We now had full gravity. The ship was well underway to whatever
 it's destination. That was my only clue to how much time had
 passed.

 Spikey was washing herself down. She was facing the wall,
 frowning in that sort of intensely thoughtful way she did. She was
 naked above the waist. I could see her muscular back and one firm
 breast as she raised her arms above her shoulders, rubbing her face
 and pushing back her short spikey hair so it stuck to her scalp like a
 seals'. Her drawstring cotton pants were sodden and clinging down
 to her knees. No underwear. The translucent cloth followed every
 curve of her tight butt.

 Imagine her crawling towards me like that. Head down. Back
 arched. Small breasts jostling and that butt just peeking over her
 shoulders. I wondered if she had tired of the game. 

 <QUITTER, LIMPDICK> said the scrolling transcript of my
 thoughts.



 "Damn you," She lay her head down on my chest. "You win. I
 wanted to do this all in one session. Then I would have helped with
 your withdrawal. Worked you through it. I even imagined keeping
 you, like a friend, sort of." Her expression hardened. "But we need
 certain information and you're just not playing. I said I wouldn't use
 pain on you. I promised, but now that is going to have to be a lie.
 And you will hate me." She bit her lip. "I'm not going to help with
 your withdrawal. Unless you help me. No more jolts. Your going to
 lie here, begging for contact, just normal contact, while your body
 comes to grip with the fact that it's over."

 "Withdrawal; it's painful," she spoke as if from memory. "It's lonely.
 I'm sorry."

 I had won, and she knew it. The withdrawal would hurt, and maybe
 they could hook me again, and make me go through it a couple of
 times before my month was up, but they had reached the limit of
 what they were prepared to do to me. I had won, not betrayed my
 oath. Kept my honour. How I wished I were weaker.

 <NO.>

 "No more. Not even talk" Spikey replied, but then continued
 herself "It was fun though, You were funny. The things you said.
 Damn you said some sick things. I almost wet myself. Damn you
 have a sick mind, Jane."

 <I AM NOT JANE, CUNT>

 Spikey's mouth dropped. So did mine. I hadn't said that.

 <BUT I KNOW EVERYTHING THAT JANE KNOWS>

 <FOR EXAMPLE. YOUR FIRST QUESTION. SHE IS A
 VIRGIN. SHE HAS NEVER BEEN TOUCHED. NO ONE
 WOULD EVER TOUCH HER. EXCEPT YOU. SHE LIKED
 THAT.>

 Where were those words coming from? It had to be a trick. So I
 had never been touched like Spikey had touched me. They could
 have guessed. It was obvious. Someone was typing those words in
 from somewhere.

 "This is a good game," spike laughed. "Now tell me something I
 don't know, Jane."

 <I AM NOT JANE. BUT I KNOW HER.>

 After a pause Spikey obviously decided to play along. "Then what
 is Jane's login."

 <HER LOGIN IS 2FINGER> How did they know that?

 Spikey found a laptop and typed something in. "Truth.... You are
 speaking truth now. What's the password?"

 I struggled in my bonds slamming my head from side to side, as if I
 could shake the other off me.

 <THE FIRST DIGIT IS NINE..>

 Not Fair! I howled (mutely) and writhed in my bonds as if Spikey
 had me under the electrodes again.

 <REMEMBER HOW BEAUTIFUL SHE WAS WRITHING IN
 YOUR MACHINE. COMPLETELY AT YOUR MERCY. SHE
 WANTS YOU TO DO IT AGAIN.>

 I shook my head vigorously, even though I was lying. Yes, I
 wanted her to do it again, and more, but I wasn't going to tell her
 anything.

 <THE SECOND DIGIT IS SEVEN. TRIPLE ZERO..> I
 screamed in anger, betrayal. Trying to blot out the digits appearing
 in the terminal.

 <THREE, SIX, NINE>. There was a pause. <SHE CHOSE THE
 LAST TWO DIGITS HERSELF>. Somehow, even through the
 slave-collar, I managed to emit a thin drawn out squeak. Not Fair!

 Spikey was into my personal files. My diary. She browsed.

 <SHE WRITES PORNOGRAPHY TOO. LOOK UNDER
 'REVIEW ANALYSIS NOTES'> I almost blacked out through
 shame. Spikey pressed a few keys and scrolled through page after
 page after page. She read the whole thing while I had to watch.

 Finally she finished, closed the laptop and stretched. "I'm not after
 personal stuff.." Oh yeah?? "How do I log on to the org's
 database."

 <INTERROGATE HER AGAIN.>

 "What?!! ha! Now I get it. You just want more juice. Good try but
 no Juice."

 <I AM NOT JANE> <I'LL TELL YOU WHAT TO DO TO
 HER. WHAT SHE WANTS. I'LL SHOW YOU HOW TO
 MAKE HER SQUEAL.>

 "I don't believe you. Jane is too strong. Jane won't say anything."
 Hearing Spikey say it made me proud. Like Spikey was taking my
 side against the other.

 <I KNOW. BUT SHE CAN SQUEAL. AND SQUEAL AND
 SQUEAL AND SQUEAL. YOU REMEMBER HOW
 BEAUTIFUL SHE WAS, WRITHING AND ARCHING HER
 BACK, PANTING AND MOANING AFTER EACH TIME.
 MAKE HER SQUEAL AND I WILL TELL YOU THINGS
 ABOUT HER.>

 "Tell us how to get into the Org's database."

 <I DIDN'T SAY IT WOULD BE EASY, FUCKER.>

 "So what do you want me to do to you?"

 <TO HER. CONSIDER ME A VERY PARTIAL OBSERVER.
 TO FIND OUT SOMETHING LIKE THAT, IT COULD TAKE
 DAYS. BUT WE HAVE DAYS DON'T WE. WEEKS. START
 BY ASKING LITTLE THINGS. SNEAKY THINGS. LIKE
 BEFORE. FIRST THING I WANT YOU TO DO: TURN
 DOWN HER COLLAR VOLTAGE A BIT. SO SHE CAN
 MAKE SOME NOISE IF SHE REALLY TRIES.>

 <DID YOU KNOW SHE IS TICKLISH? VERY. SHE LIKES
 TO STROKE HER BELLY AT NIGHT, FEEL THE MUSCLES
 SHIVER, PRETEND IT IS SOMEONE ELSE. HOLDING HER
 DOWN AND STROKING HER. SHE ALSO LIKES
 SURPRISES. TURN THE SCREEN AWAY FROM HER.> 

 They took me out of the chair. I struggled, but they put slaver
 collars around my upper arms and thighs so that my limbs flopped
 loosely. The same scene was in my porn. The gang-rape scene.
 They placed me spread-eagled, on my belly, on some furs. Two of
 them took a foot each and began to stroke and tease. They were
 enjoying this game. I was the one chewing the fur and moaning,
 grasping the fur with my feeble fingers as my toes clenched and
 unclenched, unable to escape their nimble fingers. Their fingernails
 delicately raked the arches of my feet, sometimes the hollow behind
 my knee, or simply stroked from ankle to knee.

 These two hadn't read the porn. They were wearing earplugs and
 listening to speech synthesized from the text, telling them how to
 make me squeal. I was overcome already and they hadn't even
 trespassed above the knee. Hadn't asked any questions. 

 Spiky hadn't touched me yet. She was just savouring my
 predicament. She was crouched at my head, her face only inches
 from mine. Her eyes glowed as she watched me squirm, like this
 was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. She asked me
 questions. I couldn't answer. I could tell someone was answering
 her though.

 Spikey kneaded the knotted muscles of my neck and shoulders,
 stretching forward down to my waist as the two worked up my
 thighs, stroking, kneading, nipping with their teeth. One vanished as
 the other spread my buttocks, tongue darting and teasing. The other
 returned and they rolled me over onto my back. She had a chrome
 probe in her mouth to warm it, holding it in one hand like a popsicle
 as they explored my body between them.

 They pushed one of my feet up past my head, where Spiky held it
 stretching me wide open. "Tell me where she wants to be touched"
 Spiky whispered in my ear. I felt the chrome probe stroking from
 vagina to anus. eni-meani-myni-mo. I knew which it would be. I felt
 it ease slowly into my arse. In and out, finally held there by the light
 pressure of a palm. Fingers lightly explored my pubic hair.

 Keeping the probe there they rolled me onto my front. Gloved
 hands pulled my butt up, now on my stomach puppy-dog style, and
 a pelvis was ground into mine, pushing the chrome probe a little
 deeper inside me, a fake phallus easing in and out, as the wire hung
 down between my legs. Spikey slipped her legs beneath me as my
 shoulders were pulled back in a policeman's hold by the girl who
 penetrated me from behind. My spine was arched back but my
 head was thrust forward and I was forced to watch from between
 my out-thrust breasts as she pulled on chromed latex gloves. Now
 her hands looked like liquid metal and every inch conducted
 pleasure. I tried to pull back but had no strength in my arms or
 thighs, my back was arched like a bow and struggling only drove
 me more firmly onto the chrome probe, and the pelvis of the girl
 who held me so taut and exposed.

 I was sure Spikey would zap my nipples first. I am sure that was
 her impulse but the voice instructing her knew me intimately. She
 splayed her fingers on my taut belly and current arced through me,
 unstoppable tendrils of ecstasy from the probe in my arse to where
 her fingers gripped the muscles of my stomach. I keened in
 unbearable pleasure, thighs spasming, as she explored my body
 with her hands. My butt, my waist, up my sides to my armpits and
 finally flowing like molten metal to envelop my breasts, tease my
 aureole with two circling fingers as I fought and begged. Then just
 the nipples, each rolled between thumb and forefinger as she
 interrogated me. This lasted almost long enough that I reached a
 plateau. The sensation was pleasure beyond bearing, unbearable
 triple ice stars where the chrome held me, penetrated me, shaped
 me.

 Then they would start again. A different scenario from my porn.
 Some mock violent some mock civilized, until I was nothing but a
 joyous whimpering writhing animal skewered on Spikey's finger,
 unable to play any other roll.

 "Enough!" She finally called. There was a pause as the terminal
 argued with her. It had many more scenarios to play, many more
 secrets to trade. I shook my head feebly. "Tomorrow" I heard her
 say before I fainted.

 I woke, or dreamed I woke several times that night. I was floating
 entangled with one of the girls in one of the zero-gee bunks. She
 was gently massaging my cunt through the cloth as she held me,
 held the blanket around us, and whispering that she thought she
 loved me. It was not Spikey nor the girl who had ground the
 electrified probe into my arsehole and cunt. I guessed it was the
 third one. The one who hadn't done much except hold me and lick
 my arse once. I barely remembered her. "That's sad," I murmured.
 Her hold of me weakened. Like a child, slipping, I griped tighter.
 She gripped me back, then resumed the slow massage till I fell
 asleep again.

***

 When I woke, I found I had lost my voice. The day before seemed
 distant and impossible though I was sore enough. All the muscles in
 my torso ached. My hands were cuffed behind me when I woke,
 dragged out of sleep, out of the zero-gee bunk and onto the hard
 floor. My legs had plenty of strength but I couldn't stop from folding
 in the middle so they had to support me. 'They' were the girl from
 last night and the girl with the probe. They called each other curly
 and mo'. Mo was the gentle one who slept with me. She was bald
 but for a straggly-thick mohawk. Curly was totally shaved, so I
 don't know what she was named for.

 I was wearing pajama bottoms and an unbuttoned pajama top.
 Also the slaver collar and the cuffs. They escorted me down the
 corridors. They were taking me back to the medical bay. I fought at
 the door but I was spent. I stumbled to my knees on the fur rug,
 collapsed onto my face immediately. The soft fur against my cheeks
 made me remember yesterday and I whimpered helplessly. I had to
 make them understand. I would tell them anything. I was terrified of
 the vague dream of a voice that knew everything about me, that had
 manipulated them into doing things to me, everything it wanted.
 Things that made me squeal and whimper for more.

 "So how is my dirty talker?" It was Spikey. Strong, dominant, wise,
 beautiful. She would understand. If only I had not lost my voice. 

 I began speaking before I knew I was speaking. My lips began
 moving all by themselves.

 "She likes you. She wants you to know her inside and out!"

 I could not stop the words coming out. It wasn't me speaking. It
 was the voice from last night now blabbing my most personal
 secrets out loud.

 "She wants your weight like a blanket while your fingers.."

 I struggled and kicked like a lunatic in my panic but the voice went
 on. The puzzled crewgirls had to hold me down. "Make her squeal.
 I have lots more to tell you. Lots of things to try."

 Spikey spoke angrily but I knew it was to cover her growing
 consternation. "No more treatment girl. Get over it. We got what
 we needed from you last night. While you were sleeping it off we
 were making sure. No more juice, ever. No more interrogation.
 Pull yourself together."

 The words relieved me but drove the voice into a frenzy. "YOU
 CUNT! YOU LIED. YOU TRICKED ME!" I could almost laugh
 at it's helpless rage as it wore out my vocal cords with imaginative
 threats and pleas. The crewgirls were not laughing though. The
 openmouthed expression on Spikey's face was hilarious. I began to
 giggle. I could because it was mainly in the lungs I think. The voice
 came out as chokes and gargles as we tried to shout and giggle at
 the same time. We sounded ridiculous and insane. That made me
 laugh more.

 Someone shot something into my arm and I slept.

***

 I think I was awake a long time before I realized I was awake, just
 floating there in a zero-g bunk in the dark. In my dreams I had been
 doing nothing in particular but sucking a thumb, and enjoying it as
 much as sex. In my dream I was curled foetally around the unreal
 pleasure in my lips as one might cup a hand around a candle flame.
 This was no dream.

 It was not my thumb in my mouth. It was something like an electric
 baby's pacifier stimulating my lips whenever I sucked, and my
 thumb was hooked around the ring. I made to pull the pacifier from
 my reluctant lips when a voice and a finger stopped me.

 "Wait, Jane."

 It was Spikey, sitting in the dark with me. Not so dark now that my
 eyes were open. She was sitting on a chair pulled up to the bunk
 and she had a finger to my lips.

 "Leave that pacifier in for the moment. I've got stuff to say."

 I looked at her a moment, still sucking mechanically on that thing,
 then shrugged and rose into an "I'm listening" posture.

 "Firstly," she began, "when you pull it out you are probably going to
 start spouting obscenities again, and scare yourself silly."

 Yes. On some level I knew this already. I nodded to say I
 understood.

 "You don't need to be afraid of the voice. I can explain what has
 happened to you. There is no one else in your skull. Just you. You
 always had that voice, whispering away in there, telling you to seek
 pleasure. It is just one of your many subconscious advisors. An
 important one that you cannot do without. It can't want differently
 from what you want. It has always been in charge of telling you
 what you want, and still is. Just think of it as a sort of tourette's
 syndrome. Thoughts that are not meant to be voiced short-circuited
 straight into your speach-centre. "

 I saw a notepad by her chair and realized she had brought it for me.
 I demanded it with a gesture and scribbled in block letters: "FIX
 ME!"

 Spikey looked at the notepad much longer than it could have taken
 to read it. "The second thing I wanted to tell you. I am so, so
 sorry."

 And she was. She really meant it.

 "You will always be able to communicate via that notebook, or by
 using a keyboard. There is nothing progressive about your
 condition. But, the part of you that tells you what you want has
 extended itself into your speech centre. You are using those
 neurons for thinking now. We could prune your mind into a more
 conventional shape, but that is all we would be doing. Lobotomy."

 I scribbled on the pad again. "What happens to me now?"

 "We can't drop you off on a colony world. Not in your condition..."
 She didn't mention what the colonials would certainly do to me if
 they ever discovered I had worked for Reich police. "... and you
 will have been listed as a race traitor by the Reich authorities. We
 have voted on it. There wasn't a single dissenting vote. You are
 now an official member of the crew. Lowest possible rank of
 course.. " She continued on hurriedly " That's like being a citizen of
 your own country. You'll be as protected as any of us."

 "WHAT IS LOWEST RANK?" I scrawled back.

 "Um.." Spikey looked embarrassed. "Ships Pet, but.."

 My mouth dropped. The dummy fell out. "BITCH. WHORE. Kill
 you for this!," I howled before I could get the plug back in and
 return to that obsessive sucking. I glowered at her to let her know I
 meant it.

 "This isn't a Reich battleship," she protested. "We are all women
 here for starters," Like THAT had made a difference! "When I
 suggested it.."

 I had my hands around her throat. I knew that she was stronger but
 scribbling a vicious note just wasn't enough right then. The
 conversation did not continue until she had me pinned to the floor in
 some sort of wrestling hold.

 "Look. What do you expect? Fire control? This ship is really too
 small to justify the position but we used to rotate it between the
 fresher crewgirls. I was it for a couple of months when I joined.
 There is a lot of hierarchy on a star-ship. Being the one person at
 the absolute bottom, it sort of makes you special. Believe me."

 If Spikey had done it then somehow it couldn't be the job I thought
 it was. She felt me relax and released me. She tapped a key on my
 notebook to bring up the contract and took me through it. "The
 only commands you absolutely have to obey, from anyone, are
 follow and sit. Informally, you do anything they ask and they don't
 ask anything that you won't do. It's not a full time job by any
 means. Still an important one."

 She held me as I read and reread the contract, sucking thoughtfully
 on the dummy. I didn't have any real choice. I trusted Spikey with
 every thing I had, which wasn't much, so I would trust her about the
 rest of the crew. Finally I thumbprinted the contract and signed it
 with an A for Anna, my first name. Spikey added her thumbprint by
 mine and added a Q for 'spiQ'. All along I had guessed her name
 almost exactly right. Q, and A.

 "I know you have brains. You will learn other duties in time. For
 now I suggest you take the time to rest, and learn the ship. Not just
 the engines but the crew."

 For a few minutes we just held each other. I didn't know what was
 next, but I didn't want to be alone yet. I felt that the moment Spikey
 left some stranger would enter and say "Anna Jane, follow". She
 wasn't finished yet though.

 "The medical officer tells me there is a good chance the condition
 will reverse itself in time. You will have to let it talk though, so your
 speech skills don't atrophy. You'd end up with some sort of oral
 fixation anyway, if you kept using that thing."

 Spikey held out her hand for the pacifier. I didn't want to give it to
 her. Not just because it felt good. The voice would start telling her
 everything I felt. I would be so ashamed.

 "You have nothing to be ashamed of, Anna Jane. I do. Because
 here I am looking at you and thinking how exciting it will be to own
 a girl who cannot lie, cannot obscure her feelings. That is the sort of
 thing I might blurt out if I had your condition. I might tell you that I
 would do it again for the information we needed. That part of me
 would enjoy it as much even knowing the result. Especially. Or that
 I would have tortured and killed you to get that information, if it had
 been the only way to save my crew. I have reason to be ashamed."

 "Anna Jane, I interrogated you for hours. I know you better than
 you know yourself. Everyone on the ship has probably viewed the
 Full Channel feed of your interrogation by now. 48 hours ago you
 were a Reich agent they wanted to flush out the airlock. Now half
 the couples have disappeared off into their cabins, and half the
 unpaired are writing love letters to you explaining why they think
 you might be their soulmate. You have a shipboard dropbox
 already, you know. Anna, you don't have any shameful secrets left.
 Turns out you never had any at all."

 Spikey had been holding out her hand all this time. Maybe she
 really didn't know. Maybe I wanted her to know anyway. Finally I
 spat the dummy. Not into her hand but onto the floor where it
 couldn't be retrieved immediately, by her or I. I faced her defiantly.

 "Stupid. Stupid Cunt. Hate you so much. You talk so fine and still
 she waits here. Roll her over and fuck her. Make her love you. Use
 it all against her. She would. put YOU in that machine and watch
 YOU holler. You would, And would and would and would.
 Blanket her with your weight and claim her with a finger. Make it
 forever."

 My voice ran on and on but Spikey hadn't reacted yet, even as
 tears of shame rolled down my cheek. Had she really not known or
 was she rejecting me after all she had said?

 She started to laugh at me. I needed not to care. Failed. My hand
 slipped up to stop the words in my mouth, suddenly filthy.

 Spikey's hand caught mine. She was smiling. "I love listening to
 your voice. I really do love it Anna Jane. I could lie beside you and
 listen to it for hours."

 "But," she continued. "It just struck me. You're pretty much a virgin.
 You haven't done any of these things. You are just imagining things
 you think you would like but don't know. But I know secrets about
 you that you don't even have the words for."

***

 So she made love to me. It was better than anything I had
 imagined, and while it lasted all my voice could think to say was
 please and thank you and do that again.

 END 
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