Call me Queen B

Your foot tap tap taps on the floor grates of the maintenance tunnel above the targeting array. She's been down there for 30 minutes, and you've been up here waiting for her to confirm what you already know; your patience is wearing thin. Down the hall, two crewmen try to avoid your gaze as they finish a routine diagnostic, lest they invite your displeasure. It’s difficult task for them, partly because of your toe tapping, but mostly because you still are in your undies, enticing them to continually steal glances your way. Melodia finally crawls out of the access hatch and drops a jumble of wires and circuit boards to you. “Well? This doesn’t mean anything to me.” You prod the lump of metal with your foot.

“It’s definitely a long range homing beacon. We were set up.”

“You’re telling me they’ve been tracking us since we got this thing? I thought you looked it over before we bought it!”

“I did! And I told you it didn’t work, but I could fix it. Which is why it was so cheap.”

“No, it was cheap because Jacque was trying to scam us twice over. Damn Frenchy. Try to sell me a busted targeting array the same time he’s selling me out to a cheap pirate”

Melodia wisely steps back from you. As the longest serving member of your crew, she is well conditioned to sense your dangerous moods. You shoot her an evil glare, looking her up and down. The sexy little pixie had never really stopped being your ****, but at some point she became part of your crew as well. So now when she shows up in a sexy outfit, you no longer wonder where she got them. It’s funny, she has coveralls, but the way she’s wearing them, they seem to cover as little as possible. They’ve been rolled down and tied around her waist, revealing a cropped tank top that hugs her chest and stops at the ribs. A fresh streak of fluid smears her front, running down her side and across to her naval. “Well I assume that it’s taken care of?” The threat is clear from your voice.

“Yup. Tore out its guts and delivered them to you.” She grins like a proud pet.

“Good.” You mull over your next course of action. “This beacon. What else can you tell me about it?”

“Long range hyperpulse. Looks like it’s a knockoff of what the military uses.”

“A cheap knockoff?”

“Is there any other kind?”

You reach down and pick up the transmitter, not caring that the crewmen down the corridor have an amazing view of their captain's rear. After all, if they’re going to follow your ass to hell, they should know that it’s worth the trip. “Long range military beacons have special decryption hardware to keep their transmissions from being intercepted. Does this have that?”

She takes it from you and turns it over in her hands a few times. “Doesn’t look like it. Which means the transmission coordinates should be….” Reaching deep into a pocket she pulls out a data splicer. The needle-like protrusion slides into a data jack. “Right here.” She smiles and presses a few buttons. “Got them.”

“Bridge,” you shout into the comms. “Set a course for these coordinates. Best speed. Good work Melodia.” Melodia beams and in spite of yourself that makes you smile. Sadistic bitch or no, it’s nice to have someone happy to see you happy. You lean in for a kiss. She closes her eyes and leans in as well. Then you snap a restraining bands around her wrists.

“Huh?” She asks dumbly as you pull her hands behind her and cuff them together. They magniclamp her to the bulkhead behind her, pinning her against the wall. Then you kiss her. “Mmmm~” She licks her lips as you pull away and wiggles her shoulders playfully. “Is this my punishment for failing to find the beacon the first time mistress?”

“And your reward for pulling those coordinates.” Easily you pants her pulling down both the coveralls and some surprisingly plain cotton panties. Her breath quickens as you lift up her top, exposing erect nipples. Pink lips coo as your hands explore her body. It’s well trodden ground by this point, but you’ve never stopped enjoying the journey. Like slipping into a comfortable dress, your fingers slide silkily between her legs. She gasps and moans, but you silence her with another kiss.

It doesn’t take long for Melodia to squeal out her orgasm. You’ve been together for along time. You know her. You know where to touch, how to touch. You’ve done this a thousand times. And it never gets old.

“I wish I had more time to spend with you. But I have an **** to plan. And before that, I should probably change.” She pouts. You can’t blame her. Neither one of you has had as much time as you used to. Fortunately, you have minions, and while Melodia may be a member of the crew, she’s still a ****. “You two.”

They nearly drop their tools as they jump to attention so fast they warped space-time. “Yes ma’am!” They shout in unison.

“Finish up that diagnostic. Then take care of Melodia here.” Melodia looks the two up and down and licks her lips. “If you’re not done in 10 minutes, I’m sending someone else to deal with her.” They don’t even acknowledge your order, one practically diving down the maintenance hatch. “You know Melodia, this captaincy thing got way easier once I learned it was about giving people the proper motivation.”

“Yes ma’am.” You pat her head and leave her. You got work to do. As you leave you hear Melodia call down the corridor.

“No, the inverse junction. Yeah, that one.” Crew and ****. An excellent combination indeed.

It wasn’t fair to call it a battle. Battle’s were horrific and glorious things. Also typically longer. The Freedom Redefined cut through the station's defense satellites in the opening salvo. There was a destroyer that wanted to fight, but it was docked and took five shots before it was underway, leaving it's return fire, rather impotent. The station commander surrendered soon after, promising to deliver all the goods the station had.

That had been three days ago. Thirty minutes ago, Thane’s destroyer had exited the jump point. Twenty nine minute ago, you blew off her ship's engines. Twenty five minutes ago, you had sent over the boarding parties. Ten minutes ago, they took the ship.

Which brings you back to the present. In the center of your dungeon you sit, lady and ruler of all you see and quite a bit more. Taking a page from Melodia’s book, you’ve decided to spice up your outfit. The synthex flightsuit was a classic and you wear it well, but you were feeling classy. A crimson and black qipao with no sleeves glides along your curves, its long skirt accented by a slit to tease your underlings. At your side is Melodia. Naked and kneeling, she watches eagerly, a cheeky smile on her lips showing her amusement. Before you they drag Thane. Per your instructions, they didn’t give her the usual captive treatment. She still wears all her clothes, although they’re torn. During the scuffle, it looks like she lost most of her jacket buttons revealing some very alluring silver lingerie. She’s pushed to her knees beneath the platform. Her face is just as pretty with that spiteful snarl upon it.

“Hello again Thane. It’s good to see you so soon. Did you have a nice trip?”

Her lips curl and she looks up at you with absolute hatred. “How? We had a head start. How did you get here before us?”

“Oh, we took a direct jump point here.”

“There is not direct jump point!” She shouts.

“Well of course there is. How else do you think I beat you here?” Given the career change she's about to undergo, you decide Thane doesn't need to know what you found on the federation explorer. You cross your legs, the waist length slit up the side of the dress making it abundantly clear you think panties are for suckers. “Now, I’ve had time to consider your offer. And while I still don’t think I’m ready to stop being my own boss, I do believe a merger of some kind is in order.”

Thane looks around, defeated. She hangs her head. “Fine. You win. My network is yours.”

“Oh, I wasn’t offering you a partnership. Or even employment. I’ve already taken what I want from you.” You make a broad gesture to the dungeon. It was bursting with flesh. Thane’s operation had been very successful, almost as successful as yours. Accommodating all the new stock had been quite the accomplishment. Every **** pod, cage, and whipping post was occupied. Many were even doubled up; it was many the a rack that had two ****’s spread eagle on it, one on top of the other, face to crotch. And the nearest cage, already too small for one ****, has two hogtied big-tittied Oo'lick cows squeezed into it, their tits made to spill out for anyone with a hand or shock stick to enjoy. “You’re station master was quite cooperative. Well the second one at least. The first one had to go.”

Her earlier anger has evaporated. She looks around, her mouth half open as though searching for words. Her shoulders slump. “What now?” She finally asks. “You break me personally I assume?”

“Oh no sweetie, you’re not worth my time. Besides, I’m pretty happy with my crew. I think they’ve earned a show.”

“What do you-Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhh!” Her question is cut off as the trap door opens up under her. The pit below the dungeon was cold and metal and dark. The crew cheered and surged forward to the opening. They hadn’t seen anyone thrown into the pit since Valerie fucked up those jump coordinates. Grabbing Melodia’s leash you join them, the happy **** crawling along next to you.

Thane was trying to get her bearings. Shadows dominate the hole, a square of light making the darkness all the deeper for the contrast. Ominous shapes hide in the darkness. Shapes that promise ill fortune upon the visitors to the dark realm. One of those shapes moves. Thane holds her ground, watching it. The shape stands up. Thane took a step back. The shape steps forward. Thane took two steps back but no more. She seemed unwilling to leave the light. From the dark a red foot steps out.

Bellextra gives a wolf and rushes forward. Instinct takes over and Thane tries to run, but it was no good. Thane is lifted up by the jacket and thrown to the floor. The crew cheered as Bellextra tears off the defeated admiral's clothes. There was a thump as Bellextra casually flipped Thane face first onto the deck plate. **** hands clawed for a grip to crawl away. The red demon was at full mast. Thane was prone and ****.

“No! Please! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!” Her scream tore through the dungeon as the Iah Kuruh’s cock tore through her ass.

You smile as Bellextra takes out her sexual frustration on the poor Thane. It’s hard to keep an Iah Kuruh down. Sure she took to being bound and gagged well, but the problem was she was just too insatiable. She was fine as long as she was taking a dick or eating pussy, but as soon as you put her away, she started getting restless. Not even multiple stretches in the **** pod had gotten her use to being ignored. The only thing that worked was giving her… playthings, to keep her occupied. She was a great way of breaking down particularly unruly captives, or disciplining crew who failed in their duties.

“Someone get that Iah Kuruh some toys to play with!” Within moments, dozens of dildoes cuffs and other stranger toys are cast into the pit with the two. Thane’s eyes go wide as they fall like rain, but that may have more to do with a particularly deep thrust from Bellextra. The defeated admiral is given no relief, even as Bellextra reaches over to grab a set of cuffs. It's not long before Thane is frogtied with straps and cuffs, bent over with her face in the floor while her ass is destroyed by an uncaring and very horny co-captive.

Two hours later Thane was a cum stained mess. Bellextra was finally slowing down. “Did you enjoy your new toy sweetie?” You call down to Bellextra.

She looks up at you, then down at the defeated Thane. “Yes mistress.” It’s weird how someone who judy took a women as powerful as Thane could sound so submissive, but Bellextra speaks with deference. The amazon had accepted defeat with grace.

“Good. You can keep her for a few days, then I’ll want her back. If you beg nicely, and if she’s good and broken, you can have a personal session with mistress.”

She grins and looks down at Thane, who simply moans pitifully. “Yes mistress.”

“The rest of you!” you bellow. “Back to work! We have a full cargo! I want it at Port Vogol in two days, and I want them all ready to meet the behavioral standards there. We’ll be working double shifts until then. Get to work, people.”

There is a chorus of ascent as the assembled crew jump into action. “Training all captives in two days miss? Double shifts. You **** driver you,” Melodia quips. In spite of yourself you snort. You’ve always been a sucker for puns.

“Yes. Yes I am.” You sit in your throne and throw open your dress. Your **** doesn’t need further instruction and puts both her hands on your hips and buries her face in you. You sigh and relax as the crew does the heavy lifting. It’s good to be the queen.

THE END: PIRATE QUEEN.