Meanwhile Luke, Aslög and promise of anal

Meanwhile, Aslög was primping in the girls’ dorm on Deck 4. She sat at a small vanity lit by soft LEDs, carefully applying dark eyeshadow with steady, practiced hands. A few precise strokes of mascara followed, then a smooth layer of dark red lipstick. She leaned closer, examining her reflection with quiet intensity. After a moment’s hesitation, she added a dusting of body glitter to the corners of her eyes.

“Not that he’ll be looking into my eyes,” she muttered, her voice barely audible—and uncharacteristically nervous.

A sleepy voice replied from behind her. “Did you say something?”

Aslög flinched. “Oh! Sorry, May—I thought I was alone.”

“No harm done,” the engineer yawned, stretching as she pushed her blanket aside. “I was about to get up anyway. Gotta train the new girl soon.”

She swung her legs off the bunk, revealing a frilly pink negligee and matching tiny panties that shimmered faintly in the low light. She blinked a she took a closer look at Aslög:

“Wow… haven’t seen you dolled up like that in a while.”

“Just trying something different,” Aslög replied, brushing it off with a shrug.

“Different, huh? Or maybe… special occasion?” May smirked. “Involving a certain rugged, Hawaiian-shirt-wearing man of mystery?”

“Shut it,” Aslög replied, though there was no real bite in her voice. May laughed. “Come on, you might as well let me help you pick something to wear.”

Aslög raised an eyebrow. “Something… easily accessible, perhaps?”

“Ooh, mommy has a hot date with daddy,” May teased in a singsong voice, skipping over to one of the shared wardrobes.

“Oh please, not you too,” Aslög groaned. “Amaterasu and Nepthys already give me enough grief.”

“I’m not that much older than you girls,” she huffed playfully.

“Sure, sure,” May replied, flipping through a rainbow of risqué fashion choices. “Let’s see… ah! What about going full Gothic slut?”

She held up a sleek black corset with lace detailing and a sheer tutu-style skirt that left very little to the imagination. “Top it off with these gloves—satin opera length—and you'll look like you stepped out of a wet dream.”

Aslög hesitated, then slowly nodded. “Yeah. It’s different for me… but it could work.”

May’s eyes sparkled. “Yes! Let’s get you dressed.”

She helped Aslög step into the corset and laced it tight, then guided the sheer skirt into place. The gloves slid up her arms like liquid shadow, and thigh-high black latex boots completed the transformation.

May stepped back and gave a low whistle. “Wow. You look so different—and damn, you’re sexy.”

Aslög checked herself in the mirror. Her usual military sharpness was still there—but now softened, curved, and accentuated. She smirked. “Yeah… not bad.”

“Now go knock him dead, Second Officer,” May said, offering a quick hug.

As Aslög’s heels clicked away up the ladder, May grinned to herself, then spun on her heel and bolted downstairs.

She burst into the galley a minute later, where Macha and Metzli were playing cards. Macha wore a red miniskirt and matching heels; Metzli was curled in a green bikini and a translucent sarong.

“Girls,” May said, eyes wide with glee. “Do I have some juicy gossip for you.”

Luke was sitting in the middle of his quarters, carefully stretching his body, testing how well the two gunshot wounds he had acquired at Asteroid 21 were healing. It was a little over two days to Novaya Zemlya, and so far his recovery was just as rapid as always. He’d probably be at full capacity by the time they reached the planet. Not that he expected trouble from Alexei—but Luke hadn’t survived this long by being careless.

His door opened without warning, and Aslög strutted in, hands on her swaying hips as she placed one latex boot in front of the other with theatrical precision. Luke did a double take. His second-in-command was usually all business, with rare flashes of dry wit or participation in the crew's wilder antics. But now—dressed to kill—she radiated deliberate seduction. The gleam of her black latex boots drew his gaze first, then up her long, pale legs to the sheer black tutu hugging her hips. A cinched waist gave way to a tight black corset, her round breasts pushed up and squeezed together beneath the lacing. Her face was framed with smoky makeup, and her silver-blonde hair was piled high, coiled and pinned with almost military precision. The black opera gloves decorated her muscles arms, emphasizing femininity rather than strength.

He let out a low whistle. "You look stunning... No, you are stunning," he said, eyes drinking her in. Aslög smiled—proud, but with a glint of vulnerability.

"I believe there’s a promise to be fulfilled," she announced as she stepped into his arms. They kissed once—twice—before she pulled back just enough to whisper: "My ass is yours, Captain."

The way she emphasized his title sent a flare through his blood. Aslög never called him Captain in private. Too many shared battlefields and unspoken truths lay between them for formality. For her to say it now, dressed like a gothic temptress? He didn’t need an engraved invitation.

But he steadied himself. This was special. He wouldn’t rush it. He kissed her nose, then activated his implant:

"Nepthys, turn off all sensors in my quarters."

On the bridge, the tiny electronics expert straightened, caught in the act. With a sigh, she killed the video feed she'd been enjoying and disabled the life support sensors on Deck 3.

"All done, Captain," she said into her mic, knowing his implant would pick it up. Then, feeling guilty, she erased the recording.

"And lock the door. No entry unless it's an emergency." "Confirmed."

Luke returned his gaze to Aslög. "Now, where were we?" He didn’t wait for an answer. In a smooth motion, he lifted her into his arms like a bride and carried her to the bed.

"Before I take what you’ve promised me," he whispered against her neck, kissing her gently, "I’m going to enjoy you in every other way first." Aslög didn’t respond with words, just wrapped herself around him like a vice.

And he kept his word. After a long, teasing warm-up, Aslög was gasping with need. Luke laid back and pulled her on top of him. She sat down onto his cock with a moan, eyes closed, savoring the stretch and fullness. Then she opened them, locked her gaze to his, and began to ride him with slow, intense passion. Luke took the opportunity to unlace her corset, freeing her pert breasts for his calloused hands to explore. He fondled and teased them while she bounced atop him, breath hitching and body flushed.

"Oh... oh... oh..." she whispered as her climax overtook her, collapsing forward onto him. Her tutu crumpled awkwardly between them. He smirked and stroked her hair. He hadn’t come yet.

"I want to play with your tits more," he said. She rolled off him with a satisfied sigh, laying on her back. Luke straddled her chest and guided his cock to her lips. She opened obediently, sucking him in as he grabbed a bottle of lube and poured a generous line across her chest. Aroused beyond patience, he pulled her down to the floor, and she knelt, satin gloved hands pressing her breasts together to form a soft tunnel. He thrust between them, grunting as he moved.

"I can't remember the last time we did this," he said with a groan.

"With everyone else having bigger tits than me, it’s no wonder," Aslög said with a self-deprecating chuckle. He brushed his fingers down her cheek.

"I love your figure. Always have." She smirked. "And hey, the new girl is totally flat so you're not the smallest anymore", Luke said.

"Less talk about other women. More praise for me, please", she said, winking. He leaned in, whispering into her flushed ear.

"I love your tits... and I’m going to love being inside your ass too." Aslög’s blush deepened. She kept eye contact. Luke saw her resolve falter just slightly.

"I love you," he said.

She blinked. Just for a second. Then she made an embarrassed squeaking noise that made him grin. With a dramatic motion, she climbed onto the bed on hands and knees.

"Enough sappy talk. Destroy my ass already."

But Luke wasn’t finished. He flipped her onto her back, her eyes wide.

"The Captain decides when it’s enough."

He lifted her legs high, latex squeaking as he bent her in half, knees to shoulders.

"You’re going to stare into my eyes while I take your ass. Understand?"

She nodded slowly, lips parted. He broke eye contact only to guide himself in. The resistance was real, but her trust unlocked her body. Inch by inch, he pushed inside. Their gazes held. Her eyes flickered through surprise, pain, pleasure, surrender. He started to move, slow but relentless. She panted, breath shaky. His hand moved to her nipple, pinching, coaxing more heat from her. When he finally roared his climax, she came too—shuddering, trembling, undone beneath him.

They collapsed into the bed, tangled and breathless. After a while, Aslög rolled into his arms. "This isn’t going to be a regular thing," she mumbled.

"Sure," Luke said, stroking her braid. "Just stay tonight. The ship can handle itself."

She sighed, content. "Fine. Just tonight. Can I take the boots off then?"

"Yeah, let me help", he smiled at her.