The hold. (With link to a picture)

In the room were about forty slaves the mercs had taken, about half were guardwomen. This Calvo could tell because although their clothing had been removed each still wore her military dogtags. The rest of the captives were evenly divided between the sexes and included several aliens of varying races. Each **** was strapped spreadeagled to a bed mounted on a pivoting arm. All the beds occupants wore hyperspace rigs.

The only way to travel through hyperspace was in deep sleep, the mindbending effects of the jump was such that to attempt one while conscious would cause irrepairable brain damage and you'd arrive at the other end a drooling vegetable. In the early days of interstellar travel with jumps only a few hours in duration this was dealt with easily by taking **** to render yourself **** whilst the ship jumped on autopilot. As more space was explored and jumps lengthened to days and then weeks, hyperspace rigs were created to sustain the body during it's prolonged slumber. The rig consisted of three parts; a mask which fed the wearer through a tube and administered regular doses of the knockout **** anaestazine, a crotch piece which removed bodily wastes and a control module that monitored the bodies vital signs and regulated everything.

The unfortunate prisoners here though were clearly still awake, the room was filled with a chorus of muffled moaning and heads turned to look as they entered. The guardwomen amongst the captives became agitated at the sight of their captain and tugged at their restraining straps uselessly, while the volume of their inarticulate moaning increased.

" 'Urry up lad, we ain't got all day." Sparks voice roused Calvo from his reverie. "If that warship catches us those shedevils will skin us alive."

The engineer was waiting impatiently beside an empty bed which he'd adjusted into an upright position. His metallic tentacles weaved around the bed, adjusting the straps to fit the guard captain. Calvo led the groggy woman over. Two of Sparks tentacles shot forward with blades at their tips and cut away her uniform, the shredded clothing peeling away from her body to fall in a small heap at her feet.

"See to 'er boots 'Andsome, while I make 'er ladyship comfy." Sparks chuckled.

Calvo unlaced and removed the heavy military boots whilst the peculiar old pirate secured the officer to the bed with straps about her wrists and neck. Once her boots were off they each strapped one of the captains shapely freckled legs in place with bindings at her thighs and ankles. The commander stirred in her bonds. Calvo guiltily realised his cock was hardening at the sight of one of his former warders helpless and at his mercy. Her freckles he noted covered her whole body and the puckered flesh of her nipples and pussy lips were a pale reddish pink. The fine ginger hair on her mons was trimmed neatly and did nothing to hide her labia which gaped open slightly due to her widely spread legs. The redhead's senses were returning now and she twisted her head round as she took in what was happening to her. Muscles corded in her arms as she pulled at the thick straps holding her and her face twisted into a furious expression.

"Slaver scum!" She swore. "You bastards will pay dearly for this, our forces will hunt you down like dogs."

"Woof woof." The old man mocked, sliding a crotch piece snugly into position between the pale freckled thighs. " 'Ope your forces fancy a trip to Port Morgan then your 'ighness, cause that's where we're 'eaded."

Port Morgan. Calvo should have guessed. An orbital city in the heart of the lawless badlands, it was home to a dozen pirate chiefs and warlords. Their combined fleets were enough to deter any military action short of a full scale war. With a hold full of slaves and loot it was the obvious place for the merc-pirates to offload their merchandise.

"Now then 'igh and mighty captain, this next bit might be a wee bit uncomfortable." The engineer gloated as he fitted a mask to the captain's face. "Leastways I certainly 'ope so."

The aging pirate touched a button on the hyperspace rig's control panel. Green lights flickered on, on the mask and crotch piece. The captain's eyes went wide with shock and she thrashed about moaning in her restraints. Her muffled cries of outrage as the rig's catheters and tubing extended made the old man chuckle.

"Now lad, let's shake a leg and get those other 'ores processed." Sparks said. "There'll be 'ell to pay if we ain't finished them by the time we jump. No-ones gonna pay good money if they arrive at Port Morgan with their brains turned to mush."

((Android1966 has done a superb illustration of this thread. Just login at Raunchyminds, then use this address))

http://www.raunchyminds.com/gallery/details.php?image_id=9777&mode=search