Captain of a smuggler ship

It's the criminal life for you! You are Hannah Veloor and you are the captain of the Velvet Hammer, in transit to Omicron-69. Sypharra, your Trellian first officer, Goob, your ape-like engineer, Jen, your hulking, Amazonian weapons officer, and Teatro, your swashbuckling deal broker.

You have long, raven-black hair, big tits, and a heart-shaped ass with one or two extra honeycakes in it. So what? You're the captain. Nobody can tell you to go on a diet to fit into your uniform, because you don't have one. Just a collection of straps and corsets and fishnets and black tape and old Terran armor plates that makes you feel big, important, and sexy. The platform boots up past your knees help by giving you a couple inches extra.

Not that any of that matters when you're buck naked, big tit clenched in one hand, legs up in the air, and your favorite sex toy buzzing away at your landing-strip topped slit. The Mark-99 Orgasomatix is alien made. It's equipped with 99 settings of clit-sucking, pussy-plunging, 10-speed vibrating, ass-tickling, nipple-nibbling, goo-gushing pleasure.

One perfect, dick-like appendage of the Orgasomatix is thrumming away inside your juicy box while another rubbery tendril is applying suction to your clit. A metal cable is pulling beads out of your puckered pink backdoor and another tendril is pumping on your left breast like it's trying to draw milk. You're enjoying each and every sensation, quickly approaching your climax.

Nobody on the crew knows it, but when you're enjoying some alone time with you and the Orgasomatix you like to fantasize you are spending quality time with a member of the crew. It just so happens you're fantasizing about...