Part 5: Meeting the crew

The whistle was joined by a rowdy cheer that sent the former officer, now ****, scrambling. Her naked ass slid across the floor as she kicked against it in a flailing attempt to get out of sight. When her back pressed into the cold metal of the wall, she crossed her legs and wrapped her arms around her breasts. In her desperation, she bent the clamps flat against her skin. This twisted her nipples and scrunched her face into a wince.

She looked out at the large room she had been crawling past, hoping that only two or three crew members had seen her nudity. Unfortunately, there were over a dozen pairs of eyes watching her struggle to cover herself. The crew members were scattered about the metal chairs of the rec room, in various casual clothes but all significantly more dressed than the huddled officer. Wide with fear, her eyes darted back and forth trying to put names to the faces leering at her with varying combinations of smugness, contempt, and carnal hunger. One in particular appeared to be getting closer as it flashed a cruel smile: elated by the quivering slaves discomfort.

It was Bre. She wore booty shorts made from netting, and a leather jacket that was unzipped to display a fair amount of cleavage with the word "Fister" proudly tattooed above her breasts in bold letters and wrapped with inked barbed wire. "If it isn't Commander Cunt," she mocked. Though she was only a year older than the Commander, her voice was permanently hoarse from yelling over loud parties and smoking. Her hands felt like cold manacles as they ripped Jane's wrists away from her breasts. "Seriously!?" she asked incredulously, "what kind of jizz-rag is modest? Now spread your legs; we want to see your piss-flaps."

Jane hesitated until Dr. Ocelot disapprovingly said, "you've been given an order ****."

Trembling, her legs slowly spread. "Not bad," appraised Bre with several whoops echoing her sentiment. The punk mercenary was still holding Jane's arms up while her eyes scanned Jane's body with enough intensity to make the skin itch. "Could do with some bigger udders, but we'll still have fun with it." Jane's face burned with embarrassment when she heard the cheer and clink of glasses that followed the derogatory comments. She didn't want to see their faces anymore and could only look at Bre's lace-trimmed platform boots. Though her legs stayed spread, Jane tentatively tried to move her hands down, but could not wrest them from Bre's tight grip. "Not a very obedient bitch," commented Bre.

"Admittedly not," admitted Dr. Ocelot. "Unfortunately, she talks when she shouldn't as well."

"I've got a thing for that." Bre let go of Jane's wrists, then immediately grabbed and twisted the chain between Jane's nipple clamps. The **** pushed against the floor to alleviate the pain as Bre yanked up on her breasts. "Cover yourself again, and we'll see how many laps you can run with a kettle-bell hanging from this." A vice of fear didn't let Jane move as she stared back at the snarling face. "Good," Bre said, satisfied with Jane's answer. "Now, open wide."

Jane obeyed, watching as Bre pulled something out of one of her jacket's pockets. It was made of two mostly parallel yet curved bars, connected by a strange mechanism on each end. A gag? guessed the kneeling ****. It doesn't look so bad.

Confirming Jane's suspicion, Bre bent down and cleaved the submissive's mouth with the metal bars. A thin strap behind Jane's head secured the gag in place. "I didn't say you could close your mouth, Open it back up," commanded Bre. "Wider." Jane opened her mouth as wide as she could, but Bre just looked at her with a mocking frown. "Oh c'mon Commander Cunt, you can get it wider than that. Let me show you." While she strained her jaw, Jane heard Bre adjusted her gag's mechanism, and soon enough, the two bars separated, pressing against her teeth and further stretching her jaw until it ached.

Bre took a step back to admire her handiwork. "Looking good Commander Cunt," she laughed, "I think we'll make your new uniform. Imagine giving orders on the command pedestal wearing only a gag and nipple clamps. Or giving one of those motivational speeches." Bre's victim did and squirmed at the humiliating images that invaded her mind. "It smells like your gash has been stewing for a day." Jane's legs started to close, but were stopped by Bre's foot. "**** to cum, ain't ya?"

A droplet of spittle that had collected on Jane's lower lip sprayed when she eagerly nodded.

The riding crop struck the areola just above her nipple, making the attached clamp twerk. When Jane's squeal of pain died down, Dr. Ocelot tutted, "you know how to speak, don't you?"

"Fease, let ee cuh," tried Jane, provoking a roar of laughter from her oglers.

"If the Iah Kuruh got you, they'd probably write Nympho across your tits," Bre tapped Jane's chest with the toe of her boot. The **** woman shivered as her mind filled with thoughts of the alien race of barbarian shemales and what they could do to her. Bre grabbed a liquor bottle from somewhere behind her. "But before we satisfy your slut addiction, we need to get you caught up." She sloshed the booze around. "This is Maravian Tequila. it's good shit despite my bitchy boss calling it swill last week." With a quick turn, a few glugs poured out of the bottle and into Jane's mouth.

It burned. Jane tried to swallow but winced at the taste and reflexively coughed half of the thick **** onto the floor.

"Still too good for it? We got something for that also. Get over to that table, elbows and knees." Jane didn't think twice about getting on all fours, lowering herself further until her elbows touched the floor and her face was mere inches above it. "And those thighs better not touch or you'll get a serious tit tugging."

Jane kept her legs spread as she crawled past the drunken soldiers and sailors, listening to them jeer things like "Nice fuck-slit," and "hey sweet cheeks, pucker that asshole for us." The worst part was how horny the humiliation was making her. As her shame burned her cheeks, she felt sure the onlookers could see the increase in her lady lube.

"This little prick is a great way to get fluids up naughty subs," explained Bre, her husky voice adopting a know-it-all air as she showed off a funnel/dildo combo. "It's got pumps and a one way valve, so beer can flow down the receptacle and out these little holes, but not the other way round." She squatted and brushed Jane's hair behind her ear. "I see the Cunt Commander is already drooling at the sight of a cock," the gruff woman added somewhat affectionately before she collected a string of drool with the dildo.

As the bulbous tip was rubbed across her lower lip, Jane looked up at sadistic Bre, preparing herself to have the phallus jammed down her throat.

But it was her other end that she should have been worried about. Once there was a thin layer of spit around the toy, Bre moved its glistening head to Jane's virgin asshole. With a single cruel thrust that made the sex **** scream, Bre **** all 5 inches of the toy's business end past her tight rosebud. Jane was left wide eyed and gasping as she grappled with the completely foreign feelings of such an unnatural invasion. Such a deep penetration brought the desire to play with herself back to the fore-front of her mind. Someone laughed sadistically while saying, "seeing how much she bitches at us about those reports, she probably likes having a stick up her ass," and Jane tried to convince herself that there wasn't a twisted truth to the comment.

The hiss of a bottle being opened barely registered as important until she felt the carbonated prickling of beer within her colon. With direct access to her blood, the **** acted fast, spreading a soothing buzz across her aching body. She moaned in relaxation, but a new fear gripped her. The beer was loosening her up: she would be even more compliant to their derogatory whims. Worse still, as her inhibitions melted away, she knew it'd be harder to convince herself she didn't want this. Jane was mortified to think of what the next few hours would do to her reputation.

Lust mixed with the terror in Jane's eyes as she looked at the men and women surrounding her ass like it was an art installation. Around her, there was Dr. Daniels in a wrinkled and disheveled suit with a glass of what was probably port in his palm. Fuck, why do I like being the only one naked so much? "Put some lemon up her ass too," the medical officer urged, "It will aggravate the cramping." His course comments stung like a slap to the face. Dr. Daniels had always been a bit rough around the edges, but cared about his patients, intentionally belittling was not his style.

Jane whimpered to herself as more liquids, liquids she had no way of identifying, were **** past her until-very-recently-virgin asshole.

"And some crushed ice too," encouraged Corporeal Smith, half out of his mechanic's cover-alls. "We can bugger the bitch with a whole cocktail."

It was too humiliating and arousing for Jane; she buried her face in her arms. If she couldn't see their faces anymore, maybe the Commander could get a hold of herself and then the situation. Deep breath, one, two. Jane's thoughts were immediately disrupted by vibrating her rear door. It seemed the pumps in the dildo shoved up there were having trouble moving the ice. Once again the **** submissive was reminded how close she was to the sweet tremors of orgasm. Her ass bucked three times in a subconscious attempt to fuck the butt-plug.

Then the ice sloshed into her colon (otherwise Jane might have kept thrusting like the bitch in heat the onlookers knew her to be). The chill instantly reached Jane's bones and slithered through the rest of her body soon after, making her scream in shock. Even with her knees lewdly spread, Jane struggled to keep her balance as her legs buckled under the enormity of the new and not completely bad sensation. Her arms weren't so controlled and pulled tight to her shivering chest, leaving her to smack face first into the floor.

Before Jane could even start to get used to the cold gripping her by the bowels, she became painfully aware that said bowels were also full. She slowly twisted, trying to lessen the pressure inside her to no avail. However she moved, it still felt like there was a rope, 2-feet-long and full of knots, jammed all the way up her asshole, and the crew was just getting started.