index


Message-ID: <61740asstr$1322021401@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Thinking Horndog <im_a_thinker@yahoo.com>
Reply-To: Thinking Horndog <im_a_thinker@yahoo.com>
Subject: {ASSM} The Chinese Obligation 4/5 {Thinking Horndog} (MF oral anal ir ScFi)
Lines: 526
Date: Tue, 22 Nov 2011 23:10:02 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

Chapter 4 of 5
<1st attachment, "Obligation_4.txt" begin>

Author: Thinking Horndog
Title: The Chinese Obligation
Part: 4 of 5
Universe: The Swarm Cycle
Summary: Tom Porter was alone on his space tug, positioning mines out beyond
the orbit of Saturn, and he liked it that way -- but a disaster at his pickup
point left him with all kinds of responsibility...

Keywords: MF oral anal exhib ir rom ScFi

The Chinese Obligation

Chapter 4

	In the morning -- well, day watch, since morning or afternoon was
more or less irrelevant on Rhea or in space -- Tom took a couple of minutes
to get organized and found Tania had coffee replicated when he got up.  They
didn't discuss the displacement of the previous evening; a bunk was a bunk to
Tom, and the sexual interlude made the whole thing more than worthwhile.  Tom
was beginning to see the benefit of having a more or less permanent female
companion, although he wasn't ready to make admissions to that effect.  Tania
had apparently queried the AI about his breakfast rotation, because the
waffle was on the console when he emerged from the head.  She didn't seem to
be inclined to drape herself on him or ask for love words -- she seemed to be
happy to be coolly efficient, removing tasks from his morning routine so that
he could press forward with other things.  She hit the head for her shower
while he ate and checked the status of ship and factory repairs, then came
back and had a waffle of her own.  At some point, she'd replaced the bed
linens, because his bunk was freshly made when he entered his quarters to
dress.

	Tania was making a serious effort to avoid a conversation over having
displaced Tom from his bunk -- a conversation that she assumed could only
start with a complaint.  Instead of just letting him sleep, she'd insisted
upon occupying his bunk -- and the sex, while clearly mutually satisfying,
had been a drain on the energy levels of both participants.  He probably
hadn't enjoyed sleeping on her, or waking up sticky, or having to move...  So
she was keeping a low profile and 'being useful, instead of merely
decorative.'

	Finally, she couldn't avoid things any longer, so she started a
different conversation to stave off the one she was dreading.  "So, what is
the plan for today?"

	"We're linked by transporter to the habitat pod," Tom reported.  "I
had it open a secondary port.  You go on down and get your exo and collect
the transport pads for the excavator.  I'll take a pod and feed Replicator
One some parts of Replicator Two, then we'll go back and forth working on the
integration of the transport pads with the conveyors at the first unit break
on either end."  The current system wasn't one conveyor, but a series of
units that passed material to each other.  Where one belt ended, there was a
housing to collect the material and drop it on the start of the next.  These
could become clogged; Don Baxter had apparently been thrown down one while
servicing it when the disaster hit and got sucked partway into the replicator
before it shut down.  The current run to the excavator had a dozen conveyor
links in it; Tom planned to change this to two -- one just behind the
excavator, and one set of two at a switching junction just before the
replicators.  That removed about ten points of failure from the input flow.

	"Okay."  Tania got up and headed for the hatch.

	"Hey, wait a minute," Tom forestalled her, "What's up?"

	Tania sighed.  "I insisted on coming to bed with you and ended up
dumping you out of your bunk."

	"I got laid and a bed is a bed," Tom retorted, grinning.  "I'm not
going to get pissy over a wet spot in my bunk that I created -- particularly
when I enjoyed doing it."

	"Okay," Tania mused.  "I'm just trying not to be a bother."

	"Draining my balls tends to put you on the plus side of things," Tom
declared.

	Tania smiled crookedly.  "I'd do it eight times a day, but you'd get
bored."

	Tom chuckled.  "I'm going to put a message drone out -- do you need
to send anything?"

	"No."

	"Hang out.  I want you to hear this and help me tune it.  AI, begin
recording..."

	Tom made his report twice before he was happy with it, then Tania
offered further suggestions, most of which had to do with protocols and what
you could and couldn't say to a superior officer and get away with it.  The
result went something like this:

	"Chief Foster reporting from Rhea base -- the Baxter Memorial
Manufacturing Facility.  Repairs are underway -- basic services are restored
and Replicator One is operational, making parts for Replicator Two.
According to our tests, forty seven percent of the assembled stock can be
cannibalized and converted to functioning missile clusters -- the rest will
have to be remanufactured.  We're working on Replicator Two and the raw
materials feed and hope to have it working using transport pad technology by
tomorrow.  Long-term, we need an automated mining railway -- request plans
and any parts that can be shipped rather than replicated in order to speed
operations.  Request replacement base commander and staff -- I need to return
to flight duties as soon as possible.  We will hand off as soon as we can
train replacements in plant operations.  I have taken on the concubine -- she
will be accompanying me when I resume flight status, so plan on replacing her
on staff at the base.  Foster out."

	That last bit was an addendum that had not been rehearsed at all;
Tania was surprised to hear it.  Tom eyed her and said, "I STILL think we'll
either kill each other or come to a parting of the ways, but I don't think it
will happen next week.  In the meantime, I can't leave you here with some new
jerk who will add to your inferiority complex, so I guess it is the easiest
thing if I keep you around to yell at myself."  Standing, he added gruffly,
"Let's get into skinsuits and do some work."

	Tania nodded tightly -- she didn't trust herself to speak and she
knew that crying would upset Tom, whether sadness or happiness was involved.
She just headed off to get into a suit.  Tom, however, didn't miss the fact
that she was affected.

	'Silly bitch,' he thought, 'She'd probably be better off with the new
guy.'  Shaking his head, he went to get into his skinsuit.


	They went to work -- Tania in her exoskeleton loading parts of
Replicator Two into Replicator One to be remanufactured while Tom ripped out
several runs of conveyor belt and mounted the transport pads on the remaining
ends.  Material dropped down a chute from the end of the conveyor at the
excavator end, and Tom angled the pad on the receiving end almost vertically
so that gravity fed it to the input conveyors at the replicators.  By the
time Tania needed help with the assembly of Replicator Two, Tom had the
conveyor system operating with the transport pads.  But by the time
Replicator Two was close to being online, twelve hours had again elapsed.
The pair of them again retired to the Mississippi Queen and Tania was too
wasted to get into varietal dinners -- neither of them had much left in the
way of energy.  The assembly work was much harder than anything either of
them was used to and they'd been at it a couple of days; the reserves of
energy were low in both of them.  Bedtime arrived and Tania eyed Tom.

	"I won't start anything -- I promise!  I'm wasted!" she begged.

	"We would probably sleep better apart," Tom replied.

	"Kick me out if things don't work," Tania proposed.  "I'll go
quietly.  It's just..."  She REALLY wanted the companionship.

	"Yeah, okay."  Tom waved her at the bed.  Sticking his cock in the
crack of her ass and cuddling up with a tit in his hand was just too damned
pleasant to pass up -- it seemed... natural.  She settled in and he cuddled
up and exhaustion claimed them both.

	Tom woke once to go to the head, and he was vaguely aware of one time
that Tania got up.  He was on his back when she came back, so she put her
head on his shoulder, so Tom woke up to find his right arm was asleep.
Something was amiss...

	"AI, what time is it?"

	"Ten thirteen a.m., ship's time," the AI replied.

	"I should have been up three hours ago!" Tom howled, sitting up and
dumping Tania off.

	"No, you should not," the AI insisted.  "Both you and the concubine
Tania were well beyond being effective.  Additional rest was required to
bring you to your full capabilities.  If you and the concubine had deployed
yourselves on your normal schedule this morning, then chances that one of you
would meet a fatal accident had reached the point where intervention was
required.  If the pair of you eat well and deploy at twelve p.m. ship's time,
and then return at the usual hour, you will have attained as much as you
would have operating on reduced capacity and the chances of an accident are
within the normal range for this kind of operation."

	"You take a lot on yourself!" Tom growled.

	"This is protocol.  You agreed to it because you do not control your
own schedule adequately.  The action was taken to improve your safety and
that of the concubine," the AI replied reasonably.

	"Fine..."  Tom knew the AI was right, but it rankled.  "I'll hit the
head first," he told Tania.  "Don't spend twenty minutes when I hand off -- I
want to be ready to go out at noon."  Tania nodded and said nothing, spending
the time she had to wait redoing the bed linens and picking up.

	Breakfast wasn't as hurried as Tom presented things, as they needed
to look over what work needed doing and how it was to be accomplished.  The
top priority was assembly of Replicator Two, with a secondary mission of
missile cannibalization, testing and repair.  Tom delegated the Replicator
Two re-assembly to Tania over some internal misgivings -- but she would have
needed to work on the missiles in her exo and she couldn't tolerate a lot
more radiation, while Tom was comfortable piloting a pod remotely with the
AI's assistance.  They made serious ground and would be ready for the African
Queen when it arrived to pick up, but the AI had to stop them again -- and
this time, it added an admonishment that embarrassed the Hell out of Tom!

	"The concubine Tania is exhausted," the AI noted.  "She has been
actively working in an exo for six hours while you have been concentrating,
but working in a shirtsleeve environment."

	Tom flinched and grimaced.  "Shit, I never thought..."

	"It was the most efficient deployment of resources, and thus was the
correct decision, but the implications should be dealt with.  The concubine
needs rest."

	"No shit," Tom grunted.  "Any other suggestions?"


	Tania dragged herself onto the bridge and asked, "What do you want
for dinner?" a few minutes later.

	"I've ordered Number Eight for both of us -- but in an hour or so.
Let's go down to the habitat pod."

	"Why?" Tania asked.

	"Because I hear it has a tub -- and you need some tub time, I think."

	Tom was right -- thirty minutes in the whirlpool tub that Don had
ordered installed in the habitat pod was Heavenly, and allowed Tania to relax
and dredge up brain power to remember what Number Eight was -- a beef burrito
dinner.  It wouldn't have been something Tania ordered on her own, but she
discovered that it was true stick-to-the-ribs food.  Tom did his usual checks
afterward, then said, "Okay, let's hit the sack."

	"Um, Tom..." Tania muttered.

	"Yeah?"

	"I really don't have it in me tonight."

	"Yeah, I know -- you had a hard day -- harder than mine, for sure.
I've been living off the fat of the land, so I can do without for once.  Want
to crash in the other cabin?"

	"No," Tania shook her head.  "I still like to cuddle.  I can always
move if things don't seem to be working."

	"Okay."  Tom didn't argue.  Tania didn't complain when he turned on
the video to watch reasonably current events, putting her head on his belly
and drifting off without allowing the flickering screen to bother her; Tom
got the audio feed via his implants.  Tom managed to drift off himself after
a while without discomfort -- and awoke sometime later curled over her back.
He got up to piss, which roused her, and they ended up spooned in the
opposite manner to their 'usual' position in that Tania plastered herself to
his back.

	He awakened on his back, though -- not to the AI's alert signal, but
to the feel of Tania's hot mouth sliding up and down his already erect cock!
"Damn!  What time is it?" he croaked.

	"Zero six forty," the AI responded.  The Concubine Tania asked for an
estimate of the amount of additional preparation time that you would require
in order to be able to begin work at zero eight hundred if a sexual bout was
inserted into your schedule."

	"Oh, she did, did she?"  Tom wanted to sound disapproving, but Tania
had a magic mouth and it was just too hard to sound cranky while watching her
cheeks hollow around his shaft -- and, more importantly, FEELING the results!
"Bring that butt of yours in reach..."  Tania scooted around, but didn't
change the direction that she was facing, because she knew from her training
by Don that while deep throat was easier, a true 'sixty-nine' position put
the most sensitive underside of Tom's cock against her hard palate instead of
her tongue.  Tom had to reach -- and her crinkle was easier to get at than
her pussy.  After a moment, she released his cock.

	"You want that?" she asked.

	"Not today -- it was just all I could reach," Tom replied.  "Roll up,
though -- I want to do you doggie."

	Tania did as she was asked, and Tom plugged into her and began to
stroke.  He was a little bit numb, being not fully awake yet, and distanced
from things by the blowjob, so he managed to ride through Tania's first
explosive orgasm and actually triggered her second by teasing her anus with
his thumb.

	"OMIGOD!" Tania howled, "I'm CUMMIIIIIINNNG!"  Her asshole winked and
sucked in the ball of Tom's thumb and the BOTH felt the tops of their heads
come off as Tania's pussy clamped down on Tom's cock and rippled, milking
him!

	Tania collapsed forward and gasped, "Wow!  I didn't know my ass was
that sensitive!"

	Tom grunted a chuckle.  "Now that we do, we'll DEFINITELY plan a
party -- but there's work to be done!"  He swatted Tania on the ass and said,
"Let's get moving!"

	On this day, they both went out in exos to work on assembly of
Replicator Two -- operating the suit that had once been Don Baxter's only
gave Tom a mild case of the heebie-jeebies -- and were approaching completion
when the AI pressed them to quit for the day.  All of the parts had been
successfully remanufactured and with some luck Tom figured that they could
activate it the following day during the morning shift.  Meanwhile, the AI
had begun directing Replicator One to create parts for Replicator Three, and
nannites had been dispersed on the other side of Replicator Two for
construction of the pad the replicator would sit on.  Since this was about
reconstruction and shaping of the existing stone into something resembling
reinforced plasticized concrete, an initial layer about an inch thick was
already in place by the end of the day.

	A drone had popped in during the day.  'McQueen' -- as Tania had
dubbed the AI -- had scanned the content and informed Tom, but reported that
there was nothing urgent on board, so they left it alone until they were back
aboard the Mississippi Queen and dinner was in process.  There was a missive
from Commander Cheney included, Tom discovered.

	"Chief, it will be fourteen to twenty-one days before your relief
arrives -- and I expect you and the concubine to take another week showing
them the ropes and the improvements you've made.  After that, you can take
the Mississippi Queen out on a run, but you retain operational command of the
base.  I want you to continue to think of ways to streamline base and tug
operational procedures in order to get the job done out there.  Brief tug
commanders as they come in -- supplemental orders will be transmitted as they
arrive.  You own the project, Foster -- the whole shebang.  Get it moving!"

	"There will be a platoon of Marines arriving in seventy-two hours
with three missile platforms, a fire direction center, and passive sensors
for the base, as well as shields and laser and tractor-pressor mounts.
They're to spend three days deploying the gear and another four on-site doing
exercises on the far side of the moon.  Their transport is also carrying your
rail cars and some track and the power-plant links.  If I'm right, the
African Queen will have just come and gone when they get there.  You have a
boatload of work, Foster -- stand-to and get it done!  Cheney out."

	"Jesus Christ!" Tom whined.  "What the Hell did I do?"

	"The right stuff?" Tania replied, smiling crookedly.  "The commander
wasn't really thrilled with Don's output, but Don swore that was all that he
could do with what he had and he always asked for a ridiculous amount of
stuff that would have required more personnel when asked for recommendations
to increase production.  I'm not sure what we would have been doing had Don
survived, but I KNOW we wouldn't be where we are now!"

	"Great!" Tom groused.  "More responsibility!"

	"You can handle it," Tania told him.  "I KNOW you can!"

	"Yeah, well..."  Tom managed to avoid throwing things, and ranting
and raving in front of Tania didn't seem politic, somehow.  He sulked a
little but didn't dwell on it -- probably largely because Tania was a
distraction from such things.  They were both pretty worn out, so they
cuddled and watched the news feeds from Earth and fell asleep in each other's
arms.

	They finished repairs on Replicator Two in the morning as planned,
and spent the next several hours in pods moving missiles and pods to the
replicators to be remanufactured.  They had enough for the African Queen, but
not enough for the Queen of the Nile when it floated in a few days later, so
it was imperative that they get the missile pods that were broken
remanufactured.  This kind of thing took less than a third of the time of a
build up from raw materials, so it was THE answer, not just AN answer.  Tom
anticipated that the Marines would need himself and Tania to assist with
installation of the new defenses and that they would lose some time
concentrating on the railway, so they needed to get ahead of things if
possible.  Don had barely been a week ahead of schedule; they wouldn't manage
to get everything back, but they would get most of the missiles and all of
the pods back, and they would be able to build new missiles and pods to
replace the totally destroyed items in time for the arrival of the second
ship due in, the Queen of the Nile, even though Tom diverted twenty percent
of the pod manufacturing capability to the creation of Replicator Three --
whose first order would involve creation of a second mining robot.  After
that, the next order of business would be Replicator Four...  Aside from
repair and maintenance and final assembly, replication of missiles and pods
was virtually automatic -- Tom and Tania could worry about other things once
things normalized.  Tom and the base AI started working on plans for a simple
set of assembly robots to handle what had been a job done only by hand.

	With two replicators online, remanufacture of the damaged pods went
quickly.  Tom and Tania spent the intervening periods doing site preparation
and early assembly of Replicator Three.  By the time the African Queen
announced its approach, they were mostly caught up with missile and pod re-
manufacture and Replicator Three was about a quarter of the way assembled.

	"Ahoy, Rhea Base, this is African Queen, Garth Leitner commanding."

	"Rhea Base here," Tom responded.

	"You've got a ship on the ground, I see, over."

	"Roger that.  There was a meteor strike here that tore up the place.
Tom Foster from Mississippi Queen, here.  I got handed the cleanup, over."

	"Looks pretty good from orbit.  Any casualties, over?"

	"We've been hard at it, trying to get everything back on the rails.
Two casualties, over," Tom replied.

	"Too bad.  Who did we lose, Lieutenant? Over."

	"Don Baxter and Barbara. Over," Tom replied, thinking, 'Lieutenant?'

	"So Tania's still around?  Over."

	"Affirmative, over."

	"Roger.  Probably a good thing," Leitner replied.  "She was pulling
her weight and half of Barbara's, from what I could see.  Don wasn't your
equal opportunity type -- he had Barbara for entertainment and Tania for scut
work.  He offered me a piece of Tania a couple of times, but I passed -- I
have my own two and that's plenty.  Over."

	Tom flicked Tania a glance.  "You got handed around?"

	"A couple of times," Tania admitted, wondering how Tom would take the
revelation.

	"Well, I have her now and we're not providing hospitality services,
over," Tom rasped.

	"Roger that.  She deserved better, anyway, from what I could see.
Where can I set down? Over." Leitner asked.

	"Pad Three, up by the pod loaders," Tom instructed.  "You should be
good there for a day or so, but we have a Marine detachment coming in to put
up some meteorite defenses day after tomorrow, over."

	"Roger that.  Where do I make my courtesy call?  Over."

	Tom blinked.  "Mississippi Queen, over."

	"Roger.  African Queen out."

	"Courtesy call?" Tom wondered aloud.

	"Some of the captains come in for coffee or whatever when on site,"
Tania supplied.  "You know, to see a friendly face and gossip a little,
maybe."  She eyed him.  "You were one of three who didn't."

	"Don passed you around?" Tom confirmed.

	"A few times.  I think it was more out of pity than anything else,"
Tania replied.

	"I guess I'm a greedy bastard," Tom grunted.  "I won't be sharing.
If I do, you'll know it's time to pack your bag."

	Tania blinked.  "I'll bear that in mind."

	Leitner showed up at the airlock two hours later.  "Permission to
come aboard, Sir!" he requested, offering a salute.

	"Permission granted."  Tom took some pleasure in the little ceremony
-- it was one of the few joys of his position as captain of the Mississippi
Queen.

	"Looking around, you can hardly tell anything happened around here,
Ell Tee.  In fact, some things look more shipshape than ever!" Leitner
offered.

	Tom frowned at him.  "I'm just a Chief," he replied.

	"That's not what the briefing I got when I made orbit says," Leitner
replied.  "It said you command the base, the Mississippi Queen, and the
squadron."

	"Promotion was effective when the African Queen made orbit," the AI
announced.

	"And you were going to tell me, when?" Tom rasped.

	"Momentarily," the AI replied, unperturbed.  "Commander Cheney's
orders were specific in this regard."

	"Congratulations, Skipper!"  Leitner stuck out his hand and Tom shook
it.  "I wouldn't want this mess."

	"I didn't," Tom groused, waving Leitner at the coffee service Tania
had produced and set up for the occasion from the habitat pod.  "Cheney
dumped it on me.  He's probably laughing his ass off."

	"Undoubtedly, but he was right, obviously.  I saw video of the mess
you had to clean up.  You've been working your asses off, huh?"

	"Yeah," Tom admitted.  "I've been pressing pretty hard, and working
Tania pretty hard, too."

	"She doesn't look the worse for the wear," Leitner offered, eyeing
the black woman in her bikini.  "She's got that freshly fucked look, too,
which is better than the sad, hungry look I'd seen on her face before."

	"We've been getting in a little relaxation, here and there," Tom
admitted.

	"Nothing wrong with that," Leitner replied.  "I keep one of mine with
me, but Adele didn't want to come -- she's seven months along and in the 'I'm
ugly!' stage.  Don't they realize that they're beautiful with a big belly?
Anyway, I didn't want to wave a pregnancy in front of Tania when I knew that
Don was shorting her like he was."

	"I don't think that's a problem anymore," Tom replied, picking up his
cup.  "I don't consider myself racist, but I'd have never thought to pick up
a black woman -- and from what I get from Tania, that would have been a
mistake.  I'm hard to live with, but she's apparently handling it."

	"Yeah, I can see that," Leitner grinned, taking in Tania's gentle
smile.  Switching to business, he added, "I'll be doing system checks on the
pods I load -- I've brought one back each of the last four times for repairs,
and it's cut into my schedule."

	Tom frowned.  "Really?  That sucks.  I've been lucky, I guess...  Now
that I think about it, I've been fixing an occasional problem with a pod in
flight.  In any case, we did thorough checks on all pods to ensure that they
weren't damaged by the strike."

	"Good!  Don wasn't doing any quality assurance -- even though I TOLD
him there were depot messages out that said one in every eight pods developed
issues in service.  There is an engineering issue with the contact
switches..."  The discussion got technical at that point, and the result was
a design change that Tom ordered the base AI to implement in manufacture
immediately and retrofit where possible on existing pods.  By the time the
African Queen launched twenty hours later, Tania was busy swapping out
existing 'finished' missile pods for the upgrade while Tom worked on
Replicator Three.

<1st attachment end>


----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------
Notice: This post has been modified from its original
format.  The post was sent as an email attachment and
has been converted by ASSTR ASSM moderation software.
----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>|
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org>   Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> |
|Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}|
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+