Magda & the Captain Ch. 00: Pilot

Your hands fell to rest in her lap after you undid the vest, so now she takes them and places them on the leather waistband to which all the silks are connected at the top. You hook your fingers over the edge, and she helps by wiggling and swaying as the pants-turned-skirt comes down over her hips. She kicks it away as the silk panels slide down her feet.

She is wearing what seems like a garter belt made out of very fine chain mail and leather, and nothing else underneath. You are face to face with her lap. She takes your hands and guides them between her thighs, parting them just enough to give you access. Your fingers slide unimpeded into her folds.

"Now this," she sighs, "is state of the art. Much of the original is intact, but I've made some modifications to my nervous system, and even made it interchangeable with other models. Let's just say it's a whole other level of the experience."

"It's lovely, Captain," you tell her.

"It is, thank you for noticing," she says with a smile, and then grips your wrists and maneuvers your fingers deftly against the ridge of her clitoris and along her slick inner lips. Her eyes close, and she bites her lower lip and exhales through her nose with a tiny moan. She bends forward again so you are forehead to forehead and begins to grind herself against your hand, and as you match her movements, her hands come back to grip the seat of the stool and she squeezes you between her thighs. Her breath becomes ragged. She is guiding your fingers with the rocking of her hips, inviting them forward and back. The chains seem to give you just enough leeway but not a centimeter more.

Along one of the strokes, you crook your finger and dip just the tip between her innermost folds, and she stops in her tracks and shudders. Propping herself on her hands, she scoots herself forward on the stool and opens her legs, hooking a knee over either of your shoulders, obliging you to put your face in her lap. The devices inside her mechanical leg make clockwork sounds in your ear.

"Now lick," she says huskily.

You stop the manual stroking and instead use your hands to spread her open and allow for better access. You start with kisses on the outer edges, the crease of her thigh down to the lowest point of the triangle, then up the center...then down the center again, this time using the tip of your tongue, slowly, along the full length of her lips. Up, and then down again, adding more tongue on each pass. Even here she smells and tastes like citrus and mint, sweet and invigorating. You notice her belly start to tremble, and gaze up at her face between her breasts.

The next time your tongue meets her ridge, you linger there a moment, drawing X's across it and listening to her panting for air as you trace each deliberate movement. Mid-swipe, you stop, draw back and say, "How is this, Captain?"

"Auuuuuuughhh," she growls at you, and sits up and grabs you by the hair, then pulls you up and kisses you fiercely, her own flavors still on your lips. Her teeth pinch your lower lip before she releases you. "That was just rude. Where are your manners?"

She removes her legs from your shoulders and pivots to dismount the stool and move it to one side all in one motion. "Crawl over to those cushions and lie down on your back." The look she gives you is icy, and suddenly you fear you've really displeased her, and begin to wonder what she has in store for you next. You make your way over to the cushioned area without further lip, and lie down with your head on a pillow and wait.

She approaches, standing like an Amazon over you with hands on hips, silhouetted against the ceiling, naked except for that chainmail belt and garters. With one foot on either side of your head, she positions herself over you. With her signature precision, she lowers herself until she is straddling your chest, never taking her eyes off you.

Her hands go behind her back, and you can feel her grab the chain that has your hands bound and bring it to her hips. By some sleight of hand you have no way of seeing, she attaches your shackles to the back of the belt, giving you just enough range of movement to reach her hot spots.

"Now, as you were," she orders, and brings her hips down to meet your lips.

You skip the slow warm-up this time and devote your attention to her clit right away, alternating between tracing its shape with your tongue and sucking on it tenderly. Again her legs tighten around you, and she comes forward onto her hands and meets your tongue with small rolls of her hips.

As you feel her warming up again, you pause to wet the first two fingers of your hand with your saliva, then position them at her entrance invitingly. She responds by slowly sinking her hips back onto your fingers and gripping your hair enthusiastically. You combine this with short rapid tongue strokes across her clit.

Suddenly, the soles of your feet turn hot, and your whole body jumps as though with an electric shock that takes your breath away for a moment. She releases her grip on your hair and looks down at you. "Ah, that happens sometimes - like I get all charged up with stimulation and it has to jump somewhere, so I...transmit some of what I'm feeling. Was it good?"

Your spine is still tingling a little from the jolt, and you can only nod.

"Good, I'm glad. I can't say I've ever had any complaints. Now back to what you were doing," she says, sinking her hips back down onto you, and you oblige. Your tongue dances along her folds as your fingers work inside her, the walls closing in around them enthusiastically. When she tosses her head back, her hair dangles across your body and brushes the tops of your bare thighs where your dress has ridden up, producing an entirely different kind of jolt within you.

Meanwhile the ship vibrates with its own humming along the entire backside of your body where you lie on the carpet, massaging you with sound waves that seem to pass right through you as delightful ripples. The soft glowing light, which has darkened as if real candles were actually burning down, illuminates the Captain's pale skin and reflects off the glass of her modified limbs. The entire effect is so intense you fear you're going to lose your grip on reality soon.

She's moaning on top of you, rocking her hips more rigorously against the hand that she's drenched. Sensing her moving towards the summit, you use her own wetness to wet a finger of your other hand, then slide it towards her rear, slowly but steadily. Her body responds involuntarily. A throaty moan escapes her and she shudders so hard she has to pitch forward onto both hands again, and her hips rise slightly away from your face, but she presses back down into you again with determination. The chains on your wrists immediately react, loosening a bit to allow you more access and a better angle.

Concentrating, you bring all the elements together, inside and outside, lips, tongue, and fingers, all moving deliberately and using her own body's movements for guidance. And you're not sure if she's transmitting or if you're just slipping farther and farther away, but you yourself feel like you could be floating. You've lost all sense of lying on the rug on the floor, of the weight of her straddling you, of the sentient ship that cradles you, of the universe outside her walls.

She whimpers and squeals through clenched teeth, balances herself on one fist and clutches at her breasts with the other, running her thumb lightly across each peak.

"This is what I brought you here for," she half-sighs, half-growls. You can't respond without stopping what you're doing, and words are beyond you at this point anyway. "I'm so pleased you chose to stay and find out what I can offer...Ungh!"

She is tightening up all around you. You close your lips around her clit and focus your efforts, sinking fingers in simultaneously. In doing so, you pull the chain links connecting your wrists across her folds, one by one.

She stiffens and draws in a sudden, sharp breath, then screams, right out of the bottom of her chest, as she squeezes her thighs so tightly around your ears she could pop your head right off - not that you think you'd feel it. The ship pulses excitedly, and its humming seems to bring all three of you aligned onto the same frequency. The Captain convulses and the residual heat of her apex spreads throughout your physical form - what you can still feel of it, anyway.

For a few seconds, you both remain still and breathless, before you slowly begin your retreat, allowing her to also pull herself up off of you at her own pace. She comes free and rolls out onto her back on the rug beside your head. The ship's resonance has lowered to a murmur, and from somewhere undiscernible, a fan is blowing on your sweat-dampened bodies.

As she begins to catch her breath, she sits up and shifts so you can lie your head in her lap, and runs her fingers through your hair, slowly bringing you back into the room and into your body.

"So, that is my final offer: stay here as my willing concubine for as long as you decide, even if it's just one night. There is only more ahead of where we've begun." She grins again. "You haven't even seen what my hand can do yet."

You gaze up at her between her breasts, letting the words form in your head until you finally trust yourself to speak sense again.

"I have a better idea, Captain," you say, and see surprise cross her face. "I want to join your crew."

"My crew?"

"Yes. If this is what you do on this ship, and what you can do with a body, I want to be in on it."

She pauses and considers for a moment, then looks up at the center of the dome. "What do you think, Magda?"

A ripple of rainbow light dances across the walls and curtains, and the Captain smiles.

"Welcome aboard, Lieutenant."