It doesn't matter

A door beside you opens without warning. "Ten-hut" a voice barks. The cadet's boots instinctively click. "O'malley, why have you not responded to Adams's hails?" the officer accuses. Her voice has the slight drawl most officers pick up from their academy.

"Lieutenant..." he obviously has to read her name plate, "Rivers, Sir. my data pad hasn't received any hails," the ensign replies.

"It is your responsibility to maintain your equipment," the woman orders in her fake accent. "Go to maintenance. Get your data pad checked. And contact Adams."

Fake as it is, her accent is perfect, worthy of the best con-artist. It certainly has the ensign fooled, but he can't see the boots, the skanky, eight-inch, ballet boots. Your escort protests "Sir, I have orders to take the prisoner--."

"DID I STUTTER, MAGGOT!" Melodia barks back in her officer voice, "GO!"

The ensign salutes and briskly walks away. Melodia turns to you and maintaining her officer accent says "hurry."

You crawl after your former ****, pretending to lick the floor as you go, Thankful, the ensign is no longer around to catch you faking and shock your sore tits. Occasionally a crew member passes by and salutes 'Lieutenant Rivers'; she dismisses them with a curt "as you were." Melodia clearly was an asset to the syndicate while she worked for them. She is an able con and always manages to hide her fetish footwear whenever the need arises, either behind you or a pipe. You'll have to punish her after all this.

Then again, maybe not. She plays her part well and seems to enjoy it. You start to wonder how good of an actress she is maybe this is the real her and the submissive was just an act to avoid punishment or lull your guard down. You suspect she is only wearing the ridiculous heels because she couldn't find officer boots in her size. They do blend in a little with the outfit somewhat and give her a certain authoritative height. The paranoid part of your brain wonders if she is planning on keeping you bound when this is done. It's what you would do, and you have taught Melodia quite a bit about sadism.

After about six minutes of demeaning crawling, you hear a voice "Lieutenant, where are you taking this prisoner?"

Melodia responds quickly "One of the shuttles Captain Thane has something special planned, Commander" Shit! commander, he out ranks Melodia persona.

"This cunt's ship caused me and my staff a lot of trouble," he comments and strikes your tit with a riding crop.

"I don't know anything more, sir," Melodia apologizes, trying to move on.

"I'm intregued," the commander continues. He wiggles the dildo half in your ass and jams it in a little farther making you grunt. "Wait here, and I will see if our cruel captain can give us more information."

Melodia doesn't wait. You hear her pistol slide out of its holster and shoot. At the same time, she yells "Run, ma'am."

Run? You crawl as fast as your elbows and knees let you. They painfully bang against the hard floor as you try to keep up with the fleeing con-artist. At least, no one you know can see you like this except for Melodia. But if she mentions this ever, you will hook an iridium battery to her cunt lips with the worst clamps you can find, then seal her in a crate and ship her somewhere very far away.

She leads you to an airlock and lets a machine scan her retina. It identifies her as "administrator Melodia" and opens the airlock door. She really is a good criminal.

On the other side of the airlock is a small shuttle, where Melodia quickly removes your bondage. Based on the sterile white walls and the bed in the middle of the floor, it appears to be a medical shuttle. To your right is a pilot's seat, controls, and view-port. "I'm sorry for keeping you tied up," Melodia apologizes. You doubt that very much; she probably enjoyed the thought of her former captor crawling after her.

When free, you jump into the seat and launch the shuttle. The enemy already has alarms squealing.

You detach the shuttle from the destroyer's hull, and start spooling up the hyperspace drive. It will take time to penetrate the nearby hyper-corridor, Melodia begins stripping out of her stolen uniform, saying something about getting dressed, but you mostly tune her out. The comm starts buzzing; and you order Melodia to "answer that."

"This is lieutenant Rivers," she says in her disguised voice. "I was inspecting this--"

"Melodia," it's Captain Thane "return my **** toy to me and I promise--" you disconnect before the captain can make her offer.

A defensive turret chases you with laser fire. You avoid it, but the ambulance isn't the most maneuverable, and if enough turrets come online, you won't make it to hyperspace.

A second turret starts firing at you. Skimming along the destroyer's hull provides some cover, but some blasts are getting uncomfortably close. In desperation, you feed more power to the engines and race to the one place you know defensive turrets won't be.

Your piloting reflexes take over, and you weave through antennas and arrays, escaping the firing arc of one turret to enter range of two more. Four turrets are blasting holes in your engine exhaust by the time you dive to your 'safe' zone. You stop the ship and whistle out a nervous breath, sitting immediately in front of the destroyers main guns. Staring down the pair of massive barrels you hope and pray they stay cool just long enough.

Ever second feels like an hour as you watch the hyperdrive's progress bar slowly fill up. Entering a hyper canal without a jump point is no easy feat. A shuttle this small can do it safely, and the scar created by the gravity scoop makes it faster, but it still takes an agonizing long time. Inferred sensors detect an energy build up in the main guns. A few seconds later your eyes confirm there are shimmering laser bolts forming in the, now glowing, metal tubes.

You look back to the hyper drives progress. Just another second and... Heart pounding, you jump. and breathe easy for the first time since you were ambushed. Turning the chair around you see Melodia submissively kneeling naked quivering a little.

You crouch down next to the woman that saved your life, twice. "Hey, you can stop that," you say. "I'm not taking you to the Syndicate. Say what you will about me, I do have some sense of honor." She flinches away from you, so you try to sound soothing. "There is a Krubb Banking exchange nearby I'll drop you off there." That doesn't seem to calm her down. Maybe she is also wanted by Krubb too. You add "or wherever you want. You won't be my ****. Okay?"

She swallows and nods. "I understand ma'am. I've failed you."

It's your turn to flinch back "what!?"

"When I thought we were already at Terrador station I hesitated; I was disrespectful; I wanted more time to impress you, to convince you to keep me or at least promise to visit. My selfishness made me disobey you." She looks at you, her eyes starting to tear. "I know being a **** isn't about satisfying my desire. But if you can forgive me, could you, please, not **** me to choose how we part ways ma'am? I've tried my hardest to be a good ****. You could just sell me somewhere or throw me out at a spaceport naked, whatever's easiest."

You feel some very non-badass emotions welling up inside you. "You do have a lot to learn about being a ****." A cruel smile grows across your face. "If I were to sell, you would embarrass me. I guess I'll have to keep training you." It's the smile of a dominatrix who just learned a new way to punish her ****. "So, you don't like choosing?"

The hum of hyperdrive engines is easily drowned out by the rapid, unrelenting slap sound as your punishment implement mercilessly **** Melodia's soft skin. You aren't quite sure what medical purpose this rubber spatula thingy serves, but it makes a very effective correction tool.

Your victim is bent over the bed, propped up by her arms, her clenched fists twisting the sheets. Your unceasing, if varied, punishments are sapping her strength. She is letting out a low whine as her head bows towards the bed. "You are not allowed to collapse," you remind your ****, your tool still viciously bouncing between her wet thighs. She straightens her back and inadvertantly causes the heavy battery packs to swing from her clamped nipples.

"T...tits," she mumbles.

"If you have something to say, speak up," you order.

"Please ma'am..." she whimpers, you are getting close to giving more than she can take, but she needs to learn this lesson. "shock my tits."

You oblige, dropping the strap to quickly grab the remote. You hold down the button and she lets out a squeal as lightning pierces her tender flesh. You release to button only for a second, to allow her to breathe. And then hold down the button again eliciting another squeal.

When the second pause is followed by a particularly long shock, she cries out "EEEeeeassss, my ass, eeeee whip my asss aaaah ma'am."

You are a little surprised. Of the three punishments you were making her choose between, she had mostly been alternated between strapping her thighs and shocking her tits. Swinging your belt across her full ass has left it a bright red that would put hazard lights to shame. But who are you to deny her what she really wants. Swinging from your shoulder you deliver a powerful slap along her bruised ass.

She cries out into the small shuttle; her voice easily louder than the sound of the belt impacting her round butt. You deliberately put all your strength behind it, intending to end her punishment with punctuation. Melodia can't read your mind, and after a few seconds, dares a glance back, her eyes asking if the punishment is over. "Stand," you order and help her to her feet.

Eager to obey, she does, presenting her melons like a proud farmer. You remove the clips. She winces adorably as blood rushing into her nipples allows them to remind her brain just how much her tits hurt. You quiz her "what have you learned?"

Tired, she smiles and answers "that being your **** is, most definitely, about satisfying my desire." You recognize the look in her eyes. The pain is subsiding but is leaving her with a warm, masochistic glow.

Your fingers start tracing her slit, and you keep testing her "and if I misinterpret your signals?"

"I will make sure you know what I want," she moans, pressing her pussy onto your fingers.

"You know, it is your fault I lost The Breaker." You explain. "I never would have been ambushed if I wasn't turning you in to the Syndicate." Your index finger teasingly dips into her slick tunnel, making Melodia gasp softly. "You are going to help me rebuild."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Will you whore yourself out for me?" Your finger goes a little deeper.

The submissive's breathing gets heavy but she manages to answer "yes."

"Will you my special fuckdoll to relieve my stress?"

"Yes," she cries out.

"Putting that tongue wherever I want it?"

"Yes."

"Taking my strap-on in all of your holes?" Your middle finger slips into her pussy to join your index.

"Yes, Yes!"

Your fingers slide deep into her soft. Feeling her gentle pulsing of her vagina around them, they hold still. You rub your thumb over her clit. You ask "Will you thankfully accept any punishments?"

She has already answered with an excited "oh fuck yes" before you finish the question. Your thumb stops toying with her clit. Instead, you hook your fingers to massage her g-spot. Her head arches back, and her eyes stare blankly past the bulkhead into the beautiful void of space. You kiss her neck.

A few questions later, she stops answering your question and is simply screaming "Yes! Yes! Yes!"

And you are asking questions without waiting for the answers. "Will you work by my side? Will you go under cover no matter how degrading? Will you squirm when I tie you up?" Every so often, your pinkie sneakily tickles her anus.

Over come with arousal, Melodia is melting into your arms. You work a third finger into her gushing cunt and ask "Are you mine?" Your ****-slut might have tried to say yes, but it came out as a long squeal of pleasure. Her pussy convulses around your fingers, and a large amount of lady spunk squirts into your palm.

Propping the beauty up with your left hand you lift your drenched hand to her mouth. She slurps up the proof of her climax. "Don't swallow just yet," you order.

Your soiled fingers intertwine with her short, orange hair, and you draw her in for a tongue-tangling cum-swap. Its a long deep kiss that leaves you both gasping to catch your breath.

You help your recovering **** to the bed. Once she is laying face up, you lower your moist pussy onto her face. Instinctively, she starts quietly lapping up and sucking your juices. Leaning forward, you dance fingers down her stomach. Your mind starts wandering. You don't have a ship or arsenal anymore. The syndicate is still looking for Melodia and whoever set up that ambush may want ****. You take stock of the shuttle. There is one set of clothes between the two of you. That's not a problem, You'll just have to go commando if you want Melodia to be properly gagged.

You push aside these worries for another day. The galaxy hasn't given you a problem you can't solve, and now, you're not alone. Thinking of the **** beneath you, your fingers start circling her clit. Her moans vibrate though your pussy and send tingles up your spine. For now, well, you did promise to finger Melodia until she begged you to stop.

NEUTRAL ENDING: LOSE SOME, WIN SOME.