Chapter Three

Maeve didn’t end up quarantining herself in the sick bay.

Instead she had retrieved her medical officers uniform–a smart green pantsuit with the ship's insignia embroidered onto the breast–and a crisp white lab coat from her storage locker, along with a sensible pair of round-toed flats to protect her chilly feet.

She had to look every part the professional she was.

That was for the best. Tucker had been very polite, sincerely apologetic once he and Charlotte had regained control of themselves. Together they had all come to a workable arrangement over the ship’s internal comms.

She would stay where on her deck of the ship and they would stay on theirs. Nice and amicable. Free from enthusiastic face fuckings and giant delicious dicks. They could work from the safety of self-imposed isolation and share their findings remotely.

The medical facilities were done out in a sterile white. White walls, white polymer desks, white sheets on the empty hospital beds and stacked atop the surgical trolleys surrounding Maeve as Tucker communicated with her through a digital display.

His attractive face and broad shoulders dominated the view screen, blotting out the background.

“...Mission priority values were updated while in transit. Looks like a hidden subroutine was buried in the code and it triggered a conflict when it activated a system override. Had to come with top level clearance too…”

Maeve had been nodding along attentively, listening to his constant litany of techno-babble until it made her head spin. Tucker had a delightfully deep and soothing voice but he might as well be speaking Swahili for how little she understood what he was saying.

It sounded like he was getting hung up on the cause of the problem and–from a medical standpoint–she was more interested in the symptoms.

“But what does that all boil down to, Tucker?” She said, giving him a smile. When she smiled, he tended to smile back and he had a lovely smile. Lots of straight white teeth. “Jump to the end result and give me the cliff notes.”

“It’s the mission priorities; they’re essentially a checklist of the Perseus’s orders. The values are a numeric representation of which take the most precedence and have the most resources allocated to them. As Perseus is an intuitive, decision making AI the orders can be fairly… conceptual.” He replied, smiling back a bit nervously. “Maintain a safe travel vector towards New Eden is one example. It has an assigned value of seventeen out of twenty. Safeguarding the health and welfare of the passengers and crew is another. That has a value of nineteen out of twenty…”

Maeve nodded again. That sounded very important. Then began to idly wonder where the busty chief engineer was and why she wasn’t contributing to the conversation.

“This is the one giving us trouble; Maximize the possibility of successful colonization and propagation of human life on New Eden. The values there are completely broken. Nine hundred and sixty one out of twenty.” Tucker finished. His face was growing flushed and the vein at his temple was beginning to throb again, as he shot furtive glances down his at hunky body. “I think you can understand the problem, Doc.”

She could see the problem. Hear something too. Like a distant slurpy, gurgly noise filtering gently through the terminal speakers. Perhaps from something just off screen in the engineering bay?

“The given objective is too vague, wide open to interpretation and the value is way too high?” She hazarded a guess, twirling a lock of midnight hair as she spoke her thoughts out loud. “So Perseus’s priorities are way out of balance and the AI is making mission critical decisions based upon the broken values?”

His sky blue eyes locked onto her twiddling hand and the wet gloopy sounds grew louder. Tucker’s left shoulder was shifting rhythmically as though performing a repetitive task below the bottom of the screen.

“Right. That’s right. Just like that.” He muttered in a rushed reply and Maeve beamed at his praise of her understanding. The addition of soft thumps joined the other sounds coming across the comms. “Good girl–I mean, good work Doctor. I’ll send you the biometric data from the stasis chambers. Will you be a good little Doctor and look over that for me? Thanks, gotta go.”

“Okay. Bye Tucker!” She flirtatiously wiggled her fingers at the display but it had already disconnected.

Maeve sighed in disappointment and spun in her chair to take in the lonely silence of the sick bay. At least those two had each other for company as they poured over all that boring programming stuff. She was stuck up here all alone and had all the time in the galaxy to dwell on her isolation.

Well… She was the ship’s head physician. A rank that came with certain privileges, responsibilities, and system credentials. Credentials that could grant access to many different places on the ships, both in person and by remote.

For instance, Maeve knew she had access to the internal cameras and environmental monitoring systems in the event of a medical emergency. Gas leaks, toxic contamination, atmospheric decompressions and the like.

A few rapid keystrokes later, an overview of the engineering bay was on screen. Tucker had Charlotte flipped naked onto her back across a steel workbench. Her massive tits wobbled up at the ceiling, long bronzed legs kicked the air, and luxurious strawberry blonde hair brushing the floor as he bent her lovely face back over the edge so he could drive his tremendous cock straight down her extended throat.

Her approving hums and happy moans floated from the speakers, occasionally drowned out by his masculine grunts and growls.

“That’s a good girl. Such a good girl for taking my cock so I can think clearly again. I'll just keep fucking your good cocksucking mouth until we both cum and then we'll fix everything… save everyone."

"Mmmhmmm~!"

Doctor Maeve Hughes was suddenly feeling very lonely in the sterile white sick bay.

Lonely and stiflingly warm.

She wasn’t stupid. Maeve knew from the first indecent encounter with her two transformed crewmates that they were laboring against powerful urges. Sexual urges which appeared to drown their lizard brains in a cocktail of intoxicating hormones which stirred the most primal instincts laying dormant in the brainstem and disengaged the rational restraints of the prefrontal cortex.

Instincts which they were physiologically trying to purge with energetic copulation. To fulfill the animal demands of the flesh through achieving the dopamine rich high of orgasmic climax.

A faint whiff of their shared salty musk tickled Maeve’s nose.

As though it still clung to her pale skin or seeped through the pixels on the screen. Her cappuccino nipples felt terribly tight inside her beige blouse, and her knees drifted apart under the desktop as liquid heat gathered in her aching loins.

Fingers slid sensuously south to flit against the crotch of her uniform pants. They were thankfully made of a pliable lightweight fabric and she hadn’t remembered to wear panties for some reason. A gentle push of her fingertips and moist spot immediately darkened the green cloth covering her well trimmed mound.

This was okay wasn’t it? Just a small personal release in private. Nothing on par with the lust driven madness playing out on screen before her.

“Fuck, Charlotte, FUCK! Almost there… almost there…” Tucker groaned, leaning far over the inhumanly curvaceous engineer and treating her giant spherical tits like handholds as he pistoned relentlessly into her constricting esophagus. “Just need to… just need…”

“Mmmrrglorp~!” Charlotte guttered wetly, her broad hips jerking off the worktop and humping the air. Sluicing droplets of her womanly nectar splattering down from between her thick fleshy thighs. “Ack.. Ack.. Ack!”

“What do you need, Honey?” Maeve whispered, propping her sweaty forehead against the crystal screen. Her fingers pressing hard against her sopping folds and her smoky eyes searched the scene. “Tell me what you need to feed that sexy bimbo slut with your hard fucking load…”

From the raised perspective on the camera, the engineering bay was a complete mess. The doctor’s searching gaze swept over complicated tools knocked from benches, strewn data-pads, and countless stacked bowls that had the ship’s primary source of sustainable sustenance, a mushy nutrient-rich paste, drying around the dirty edges.

…but Tucker’s sky blue eyes were focused upwards, locked onto the flickering holographic projection with a certain crew member's profile pulled up on the nearly life size display.

The name listed at the top was Doctor Maeve Hughes, and beneath it was a photo of herself wrapped in an elegant emerald and silver laced sari taken at some charity gala in Kolkata. Her midnight hair was styled long and loose around her carefully made-up face. A hint of her toned abdomen peaked out above her belly dancer hips and the satiny stole draped from her slender shoulder only half-obscured the moderate swell of her firm breasts under the brightly colored silk.

He was staring at her while reaming another woman's mouth with his incredible cock…

"Me? Do you… need me, Honey?" Maeve's fingers swirled, painting sweet circles over her pink pearl. The fabric friction added a textured layer against her thrumming flesh, making her gasp and twitch uncontrollably. "It's alright… Aah! You can cum for me. You can cum at… at the thought of me."

She was practically nuzzling the display screen, stropping her nose and lips against the cool surface. On it, a muscle in Tucker's heavy jaw visibly jumped as though he had heard her from two decks away.

"Here it comes, Charlotte, gonna fill that cum-hungry belly until you're burping spunk bubbles!"

"Bluuurgh~!"

The gorgeous, gagging engineer thrashed in euphoric paroxysms, pink boot heels drumming the air as she squirted her girly juices in a shower of orgasmic delight at the crude announcement.

"Yes, Tucker, YES!" Maeve was folded double over her own hands as they dug as deep into her thrilling cunt as the god forsaken pants would allow. "Cum for me, Honey! Think about me and dump a horny load into that sexy bimbo slut!"

Whether he could hear her or not, Tucker eagerly complied.

His entire massive body flexed, the remains of the orange jumpsuit uniform shredding under the strain of so many jacked up muscles, a long tear split down the middle of his broad back exposing the masculine physique rippling beneath the sundered synth-cloth.

"FAAARK!!"

Tucker's bestial howl echoed throughout the empty corridors of the ship as he sank mauling fingers into soft overabundant titflesh, hilted himself in Charlotte's gaping maw, and erupted convulsively down her gulping, gargling throat.

“Tucker… Yaaasssss~!”

Maeve let out a high pitched squeal of her own, long raven hair flying in her face as she flailed her pretty head in a thigh clamping climax of her own. It blistered through her willowy body, attacking every nerve with searing bliss. Whiting out her vision and mind in a tumultuous firestorm of carnal fruition.

Then she was floating… adrift on a peaceful tide of lapping post-coital tremors and basking in the warm afterglow of dreamy satisfaction.

Blinking away the stars that had been birthed behind her tightly shut eyelids, Maeve thought she had truly gone blind for a moment before she realized she was simply staring blankly up at the featureless white ceiling of the sick bay.

“Oooh… Tucker Honey. You’re going to be Trouble with a capital T.” She sighed happily, sitting up straight and pulling tired fingers away from her pleasantly tingling pussy. “What am I supposed to do about you?”

Start wearing skirts for one thing. Keep him at arm's length for another.

The man was like walking, talking catnip for Maeve and she had all the self-control of a yowling alleycat when it came to him. A welcome but crucially unhelpful distraction.

Looking down, she let out a quiet whimper as she watched him pull out of Charlotte’s mouth and blow a few final wads of his sticky semen onto the super-stacked nympho’s slender neck, enormous bare breasts and smooth stomach.

The latter had a gentle outward curve to it under the healthy coppery skin and soft abdominal definition. As though the full-figured chief engineer was mildly bloated after enjoying a particularly large meal.

Which in a very real sense, she was.

Still smiling though, like the fox who had found the keys to a dozen hen houses, Maeve couldn’t help to notice as the strawberry blonde bombshell slowly sat up and lifted one of her hefty tits to begin languidly tongue bathing it clean. She kept shooting half-lidded come-hither glances at Tucker too.

Batting long lashes and nibbling on a rubbery pink nipple with wicked intent in her acid blue eyes.

“Are you sure that was enough, Tucker Baby?” She asked with mock coyness. “I have a few other holes that are feeling terribly neglected–”

Maeve cut off the video feed with a derisive snort. Nobody would get any work done if the shameless strumpet kept acting that way. And if those two were going to spend their days fucking like bunnies on viagra, she would investigate the troublesome situation all by herself.

Ignoring the jealous pang gnawing at her gut, Maeve brought up the biometric readings of the colonists and crew currently held in the metabolic deep freeze of stasis. She frowned at the endlessly scrolling panels of biochemical data… with over two thousand colonists asleep aboard the Perseus III there was a proverbial mountain of it to sift through.

It would take a whole team of highly trained and vetted medical professionals to carve informational inroads into that jumbled mess…

Then Maeve’s scanning gaze caught on a few familiar names flickering across the screen and a wide grin spread itself across her delicate features.

Maybe she wouldn’t have to tackle the problem alone after all.

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