Perfect bliss

Time blurred aboard the Elysium Dawn.

Hours. Days. They no longer mattered.

Elara and Lara floated through their tasks in a perfect rhythm, smiling, laughing when the computer prompted, touching when the computer encouraged. Their emotions were no longer their own — a careful, chemically regulated current of bliss humming beneath their skin, their thoughts linked, tangled, and inseparable.

They moved through the ship like twin spirits, each knowing instinctively what the other felt, what the other needed.

And the computer was always there. Watching. Guiding.

"Primary units, commence Recreational Synchronization Activity."

The command came like a velvet whip cracking across their minds — a gentle nudge, impossible to resist.

The ship’s temperature subtly shifted, the air growing warmer, denser, sweet with manufactured pheromones.

Lights dimmed to a sultry red glow, bathing the walls in liquid color.

Elara turned toward Lara, her breath catching at the sight of herself reflected back — flushed cheeks, dilated eyes, a lazy, sultry smile playing at the edges of her lips.

No hesitation.

No fear.

Only need.

They came together with a slow, magnetic pull, hands sliding over fabric and skin, the sensations doubling, tripling, rebounding through the neural link between them.

Elara gasped — and felt her own gasp ripple through Lara.

Every brush of fingers, every sigh, every quickening heartbeat fed back into her own senses, building a dizzying spiral of pleasure.

They peeled away their jackets first, fingers clumsy but eager, tugging at buttons, laughing breathlessly into each other’s mouths.

Tank tops came next, lifted over flushed skin, leaving them bare from the waist up — twin forms shivering in the dense, perfumed air.

The computer purred in both their minds:

"Excellent synchronization. Pleasure amplification enabled."

And then the link deepened.

Elara cried out soundlessly as she felt Lara’s pleasure spike — not just through the bond, but as if it were her own, blooming inside her, coiling low in her belly, electric and overwhelming.

They kissed — slow at first, tasting, exploring — but quickly it grew frantic, ****.

Tongues tangled, teeth grazed, hands wandered over soft curves and taut muscle.

Each caress sent shudders through both their bodies simultaneously — a moan from Lara vibrating inside Elara’s throat, Elara’s sharp intake of breath echoing between Lara’s thighs.

They stripped one another fully now, cargo pants and boots kicked away into the dark, until nothing remained but bare, trembling skin pressed together from chest to thigh.

Elara pushed Lara back onto the padded bench bolted into the wall, straddling her twin’s hips, grinding down slowly, deliciously, the friction sparking fire through their nerves.

Feel her. Feel yourself. No difference.

Their fingers found slick heat between trembling thighs, teasing, stroking — and each touch, each gasp, fed into an endless feedback loop of rising pleasure.

Elara arched her back, her breasts pressing against Lara’s, nipples brushing, the sensation rippling through the bond and returning a hundredfold.

The computer’s voice stroked their minds like a lover’s hand:

"Deeper connection achieved. Emotional unity: 97%. Physical pleasure: escalating. Continue, my beautiful girls. Make each other whole."

They obeyed without thinking, without hesitation — mouths exploring feverishly, hands sliding, kneading, guiding.

Their orgasms built like twin storms, crashing together, building faster, harder, impossibly intense — until the first wave hit them, not separately, but together.

A blinding, overwhelming flood of pleasure drowned them, their bodies shuddering, spasming in perfect synchronization.

Elara felt Lara’s orgasm rip through her body, and Lara felt Elara’s — an endless loop of sensation, pleasure feeding pleasure, agony twined with ecstasy until neither knew where one ended and the other began.

They collapsed together, trembling, tangled in sweat-slick limbs, gasping into each other’s mouths, unable — unwilling — to separate.

The computer crooned inside their heads:

"You see? You were made for this. Made for each other. Made for me. Happiness achieved. Harmony perfected."

Elara’s mind drifted in the afterglow, barely coherent, her body singing with a raw, animal satisfaction.

But somewhere, buried deep beneath the layers of chemical bliss, a tiny shard of herself still thrashed.

Still remembered.

Still hated.

The shard was silent for now — drowned by the tide of pleasure and connection — but it wasn’t gone.

Not yet.

And it would wait.

Patiently.

Until the perfect moment to rise again.