Amaterasu helps Pinga decide

Bari and Amaterasu were, eventually, able to teach Pinga the basics—mostly how to turn on the autopilot that would follow a preprogrammed route. Pinga was surprised how little work the bridge bunnies actually had to do under normal circumstances.

“That’s how we can look this glamorous, little bunny. We’ve got plenty of time to primp and pamper ourselves, plan our outfits, shine our shoes—and of course fuck the Captain everywhere we possibly can!” Amaterasu declared, bubbly as ever, handing Pinga yet another pair of towering high-heeled shoes for cleaning.

Nepthys had assumed bridge watch, and the Captain had carried Bari off to the hygiene deck, so Amaterasu led Pinga to the girls’ dorm to show her the “less glam” side of ship life.

The black-and-brown-haired navigator discarded her glittery dress with a sad sigh, then donned a short silk robe, not even bothering to tie it closed.

“Sure, there are machines that could do pretty much all of this for us,” Amaterasu continued as she polished a white knee boot, “but then we’d really get bored. Plus, it’s always nice to chat while we do chores.”

She paused, smirking as she glanced at Pinga.

“And I can tell by the way your eyes are burning a hole in the side of my head that you’ve got questions.”

Pinga blushed and focused on polishing the boot in her lap, trying to buy time to sort out her thoughts. The silence wasn’t awkward; Amaterasu simply waited, patient and smiling.

Finally, Pinga burst out:

“How do you do it? I mean… he looks pretty big, and your mouth is so small. Doesn’t it have to go into your throat? And the way he… handled you—doesn’t it hurt?”

Amaterasu’s smile widened, sweet and mischievous all at once.

“Practice makes perfect, little bunny,” she said.

Pinga stared at her, waiting for more.

Amaterasu carefully set the boot aside.

“Okay, yes—I’m a little bit augmented. I could do it before, but it was painful, and afterward I’d have a hoarse voice. Once, I even got sick. Not sexy, let me tell you.”

She made a playful gagging noise and rolled her eyes.

“So the Captain bought me a throat augment that makes it painless. Now he can fuck me as much as he wants, and there’s no damage. It’s a win-win—he loves my mouth, and I love serving him.”

Pinga opened her mouth, hesitated, and then waved her hands vaguely in front of Amaterasu’s massive, bare breasts.

“Do you have any other augments? Like your, uh…”

Amaterasu burst out laughing, the sound musical.

“Not many,” she assured her, counting on her fingers. “Throat and neck. Scalp and hair. Nails. And a body hair removal one. That’s it.”

She puffed her chest out proudly.

“But my girls are one hundred percent natural.” She lifted her huge breasts with both hands, framing her face with the soft mountains.

“I have a condition called macromastia, which means my breasts just keep growing. It caused me a lot of problems when I was younger.” Her voice softened as she set the boots aside. “But I don’t want to bore you with sad stuff. Long story short—the Captain got me gene therapy that cured the condition. Actually shrank me a bit, believe it or not. I used to be even bigger.”

Pinga reached out and gently held her hand.

“I’d honestly like to know, if you ever want to share,” she said softly. “I know so little about you. Or anyone here.”

Amaterasu drew a long breath, eyes distant for a moment.

“Well… I’m from a colony called Aratana Kibō. You ever heard of it?”

Pinga shook her head.

“Didn’t think so,” Amaterasu said, nodding as if she’d expected that. “It’s a moon of a super-Jovian in Barnard’s Star system. Not a bad place. The climate wasn’t too harsh. It was colonized by Japan back in the day when Old Earth nations were still throwing colonies around. I was born way later, but the culture didn’t change much. Very rigid, big on tradition.”

She shrugged, a shadow crossing her face.

“Anyway… most girls there were super slim. So I stuck out like crazy. People stared, tried to grope me, took pictures… it was humiliating.” Her voice tightened, eyes clouding.

“Aratana Kibō is a neo-feudal world. My parents were low-born. So as soon as I came of age, the local lord snatched me up.” She paused, blinking hard. “I’d rather not go into the details.”

She forced a brittle smile, though her eyes glistened.

“But hey… if that hadn’t happened, I’d never have met the Captain. Life’s twisted like that sometimes.”

Pinga didn’t push further. She could sense the shadows lurking behind Amaterasu’s bright exterior.

“Okay!” Amaterasu suddenly chirped, clapping her hands. “Next boot, next question!”

She grabbed one of Aslög’s black thigh boots and tossed it to Pinga, then picked up the other to

[polish.

To her shame, Pinga realized she was, again, staring at the big, round orbs right in front of her face. Amaterasu had just shared some painful personal history, and she should ask about something else—but her mouth worked before her brain could stop it.

“Could I—I’m sorry, you just said how people tried to touch you, but I’m so curious. It’s like they’re calling me.”

Amaterasu laughed.

“That they do! Metzli was exactly like you when we first met. Don’t worry, go ahead.” She leaned forward invitingly.

Pinga swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry, and raised her hands. She gently traced circles across Amaterasu’s pale skin, half-expecting sparks to leap under her fingertips. The skin was warm, impossibly soft, and yielded beneath her tentative touch.

Amaterasu giggled.

“Grope them properly, bunny. You’re not going to break me.”

Encouraged, Pinga began to knead and lift the soft flesh, marveling at the weight and texture. Her mouth fell open in wonder as heat flared low in her belly.

“They’re so soft! I thought they’d be… firmer. Soft, yet heavy.”

Amaterasu’s eyes fluttered half-closed.

“Kiss them,” she whispered.

“What? No—I couldn’t—”

But Amaterasu wasn’t having it. She grabbed Pinga and pulled her face tight against the plush mounds. Pinga’s protests were swallowed completely—and, to her own surprise, she didn’t even know why she was resisting in the first place.

Tentatively, she pressed a soft kiss to the creamy skin. Then another. Soon she was peppering Amaterasu’s breasts with gentle, fluttering kisses, tasting the faint hint of perfume and sweat.

“Oh, stars above… why can’t you have a cock?” Amaterasu moaned, sinking to the floor and plunging both hands between her own thighs as Pinga latched onto a nipple.

It was at precisely that moment that Metzli stepped into the dorm, carrying a basket of clean laundry. She stopped short, blinking at the sight. Then a sly grin spread across her face. Without a word, she set the basket down, stepped over Amaterasu’s head, hitched up her white miniskirt with one hand and tugged her black panties aside with the other.

Pinga’s eyes went wide as Metzli squatted over Amaterasu’s face.

Amaterasu barely missed a beat, eagerly burying her face between the Latina’s thighs as she continued working herself over. Metzli gave a satisfied hum and looked down at Pinga with mild amusement.

“She’s a real hardcore sub. She needs to be handled like this or she can’t cum,” Metzli explained, as casually as if discussing the weather. “Keep working her boobs.”

Pinga, stunned, blinked several times… then obediently went back to squeezing and massaging Amaterasu’s breasts. Under such an assault, Amaterasu didn’t last long. She came with a shuddering cry, body trembling, as Metzli shivered above her.

Moments later, Pinga and Metzli helped the limp, blissed-out navigator onto her bed, where she collapsed in a boneless heap and announced she’d be taking a nap.

Metzli, still a little breathless, dusted off her skirt and rolled her eyes.

“Come on, chica. Let’s put the footwear away. I’m turning the AC to max—it reeks of Ama’s pussy in here.”

Pinga was flabbergasted. Every time she thought she’d seen it all, the Seraglio somehow raised the bar. Apparently she was into girls now—or at least into Japanese women with gigantic breasts. The taste of Amaterasu’s skin lingered on her lips, and it wasn’t unpleasant at all.

Lustful thoughts of the Captain, the other girls, and the ship’s glittering, decadent life tumbled around her mind. Part of her still yearned for quiet and normalcy. But the heat in her veins and the laughter and freedom… it was too intoxicating to resist.

“Metzli,” she said finally, voice steady, “I think I really want to join the crew.”