Steel meets flesh...

Fingers had a certain momentum of their own when they got up to something interesting, and even as Drew gaped awkwardly at the new arrival from underneath near 150 pounds of broad-hipped, curvaceous olive-skinned Ensign, she couldn't help but keep rapidly driving her fingers into the curvier woman's crotch. Even the awkward, jerky motions of an inexperienced hand like the lieutenant-commanders was enough to make Vallee bite her lip and loll her head back, nearly covering Drew's face with a waterfall of shiny black locks. After a moment Drew regained enough of her senses to give Vallee a hard spank on her thigh, snapping her to attention. Both the owner of the lap and the owner of the ass atop the lap saluted in unison.

Standing in the doorway was their new skipper, and all the rest of the crew took a few seconds too long to salute, too. That Captain Masterson was, in fact, a woman was not all that surprising to these new officers. That friction was a lot less than it once had been, and besides, here in the Navy, there was still something of an unwritten expectation for male commanding officers to be the last ones to evacuate a sinking ship... an expectation that did not carry over to the ladies. In fact, the lifeboats in general had a 'women first' policy... which synergized with the lecherous tendencies of the Admiralty to produce a lot of experienced women in charge of fighting ships, particularly the smaller ones like this.

However, it was immediately obvious that Captain Gillian Masterson was not one of those who'd rocketed up through the ranks by being a big name's favorite fuck-toy. Well, she might've been, actually - but the near-six-foot tall statuesque brunette was clearly one who had paid the price of her advancement in blood. Her entire left arm up to the shoulder was a softly humming mass of steel and hydraulic tubing - a prosthetic that was functional but could never be mistaken for flesh and blood even at a distance. A thick steel collar enclosed Masterson's entire neck, with tiny loudspeakers mounted to the front. Thanks to wearing her hair in a ponytail, it was abundantly obvious how scarred that her neck and jawline was; the woman's entire lower face, from her jaw up to her nose, was replaced with a stern-looking glazed porcelain mask. The mask was articulated with hinges along the jaw and cheeks to allow her to open and close her lips, though no more than half an inch.

Like all female officers, Captain Masterson had been assigned to wear a skimpy, curve-hugging black latex outfit. Unlike the lieutenant-commander verison, the Captain's clothes were two-piece, with a particularly elaborate emblem on her hat to make her stand out suitably. But above the captain's sizable bosom, the top of her chest and what was visible of her neck was covered in a patchwork of scars. To top all that off, one of her eyes was covered with a metal eye-patch that looked to have been bolted on; less than a third of her face was still flesh and blood. It looked like she'd been in a bridge that had been hit while she was sitting down at a console, at perfect head-height for a storm of flaming shrapnel and debris. And yet it seemed she'd survived and recovered to the point the Navy was handing her a fresh ship to command.

LtCmdr. McKnight felt a sudden surge of pride and admiration looking upon her new captain, eyes quavering as her lips became a smile. One of the lower officers tried (and failed) to suppress a nervous chuckle.

When Captain Masterson spoke, her lips barely moved, and the sound came out as a distorted vowel-heavy rumbling, thanks to the amplifier collar situated over what little was left of her vocal cords. "At ease. I see that you have found your stations. As you may have noticed, I've ordered the crew to rush preparations so that the Sidney Story can complete its expedited sea trials by sundown and receive orders by dawn. Every last ship is sorely needed for fleet and convoy protection."

"Aye aye!" a chorus of affirmations rang out from the assembled officers - though in the case of Ensign Vallee squeezing the fingers inside the soft folds of her sex as if trying to **** them out, it was more like "Ahh, AHH!"

"Alright then," Captain Masterson rumbled, arms crossed behind her back as she strolled casually around the room. As she walked, Drew and the rest of the officers noticed that their commander moved with a pronounced limp and was allowed to wear dress boots with standard heels, which was usually only granted to female officers who couldn't manage platforms.

"All the equipment seems ship-shape." Masterson said in the grating, unnatural tone that her wounds had inflicted on her. "But Lieutenant-Commander McKnight is being most inefficient in one aspect of her duties."

Before Drew could do more than open her mouth and cringe, Gillian Masterson suddenly thrust her mechanical hand out in her direction. At first Drew assumed she was going to be struck. But instead of her, it clamped around one of Ensign Vallee's nipples, pinching it through the stretched material of her top. With her free hand the captain reached over to turn a knob on her mechanical arm - and when she cranked it to its highest setting, the steel-pipework fingers began vibrating rapidly.

Stunned by this sudden ****, Miss Vallee hit a high note like a contralto opera singer and Drew felt a shiver run all the way through Vallee's hips down to her toes. She did not see, but heard and felt, the woman in her lap reach a squirting orgasm after just a few moments of vibrating, twisting stimulation. Juice slicked Drew's fingers as she withdrew them. Her pent-up sexual need from before was now reaching a fevered pitch.

"There. You need to practice your techniques and bring the proper equipment when you're called on to satisfy a woman, Lieutenant-Commander. Isn't as simple as spreading your legs and letting a seaman do what comes naturally to him. I think I'll need to give you some lessons."

Thanks to the mechanical monotone of the captain's voice, it was difficult for Drew to tell if she was being sarcastic or completely serious. In that one war-weary green eye, Drew thought she saw a hint of amusement, but she wasn't quite clear. With shaking legs, Ensign Vallee stood up off her lap and leaned on her control console - McKnight taking this as her cue to slide out from under her and get over to her watch station.

But as she did, the Captain's hand swept out and grabbed her by the shoulder. "Hold it there. Did my voice-box malfunction? You aren't ready to stand watch, commander. We'll be underway in a couple of hours. This is the perfect time to take care of your subordinates. You've got one, but a responsible officer would get through at least a third of the rest of them before even thinking about taking a break, standing around."

Half of the male officers present suddenly broke out in grins, not having expected a female CO to come down on the side of their perceived needs when weighed against the need of a female lieutenant-commander to remain undistracted while on station. Unable to wait any longer, the one who had spoken up before - a sharp-featured, soft-handed good old boy from old southern money, by the looks of him - put on a proud smirk and unzipped his trousers slowly and with great fanfare.

"Um, yes, of course, however, the lieutenant-commander feels compelled to point out," Drew said, speaking of herself in the third person to emphasize her deference, "that it might be, uhh, more effective to bring in some crewwomen from the guns or somewhere to take care of those duties? I mean, because it's always important to have at least one officer on watch... I mean, with just me and Vallee..."

"You have a lot to learn, McKnight. You and your command both. There's no reason you can't be on watch while being used. Just make sure that your field of view is unobstructed. As to the other, you and one female ensign should be more than enough, but in the interest of getting this new scow of ours out on the ocean where it can help hold back the bloodthirsty Stadti hordes, I'll help you get things squared away, although that'll be one more thing for us to talk about in your private debriefing afterwards."

Not knowing how else to respond, Drew just nodded her head dumbly.

"Alright, you eager little small fry of a J.G.," Captain Masterson growled at Grenville, the young man who'd presumptuously unzipped his pants. "McKnight over there apparently needs a few moments to recover but you can go on and get started."

Grenville, who had been staring at Drew, snapped his gaze back over to the Captain, unable to totally hide his surprise. "Um... Well, do you mean..."

In the blink of an eye, Captain Masterson was in his face. Grenville was on the short side of average but it still wasn't often that he encountered a woman who stood taller than him without the aid of elevated heels. A chorus of shifting gears and hydraulics accompanied the snapdragon-like motion of the captain's hand closing around his wrist.

A hard yank pulled him closer. "What the hell's wrong with you." Masterson demanded flatly. "Aren't I the hottest thing you'd ever laid eyes on?" Her grip tightened. "Have you forgotten the basics of the Uniform Code? I'm standing right here. Performing a tour, which means you're well within your rights to use my body as hard as your black little heart desires." She stared hard at Grenville, and the rosy-cheeked youth avoided her gaze.

"Compliment me." Captain Masterson said - even with the distortion it was clear by her tone that was a command.

"You're... I'm very proud to be serving under your command, captain. You're obviously a great hero and a patriot and..."

"Compliment my body, idiot." She said, cutting him off. "You know, personally, I don't think you'd satisfy me, so I'm not requesting anything from you right now. But I'm making you aware of your rights since you seem so damn hapless at the moment." Her mouth flapping up and down was an eerie sight, like a ventriloquist's dummy 'talking'.

"Um," Grenville offered noncommittally. "Your uniform... I mean, your figure is really curvy. And sexy."

"Better." Captain Masterson ran her (gloved) non-prosthetic hand through her hair, and then turned and pointed at Drew. "You know, quite frankly, I'd rather have Commander McKnight over there bent over one of my knees and getting to see some of the more exotic functions my new and improved hand came with. 15 years ago I would have stood in line to let a pampered young beau like you use me six ways from Sunday. But things change, and that song and dance gets old; it's gotten to the point where I'd rather just have a woman being MY little plaything, instead."

Eyes wide and bulging, it was all LtCmdr. McKnight could do to keep her mouth closed and not show discomfort by looking away. Lieutenant Grenville didn't seem to know what to do either.

Captain Masterson turned her unnerving monocular gaze back to the young man in her grip. "But - and I don't give a damn who hears that I said this - those pigs in the admiralty would start waving their fingers if I don't make it as clear as humanly possible that just because I run this ship - and I intend to run it damn tight - doesn't mean you can't use me as our great nation intended. I'm in this mini-skirt for a reason. In case you're wondering, lieutenant, I'm not quite old enough to be losing my fertility either. So. Out with it already."

Several dozen sets of eyes were on Lieutenant Grenville. A couple of the men had picked up the panting, post-orgasmic Ensign Vallee by her arms and were positioning her between them for a spit-roasting, but even they paused, erect cocks in hand, to see how their fellow officer would react to this startlingly aggressive inversion of what they were used to. Men getting used by women was something that was joked about, not taken seriously... but sometimes it ended up in a situation like this, where someone was pressured by circumstance to make such a request even when it wasn't their first inclination.

In this case, however, the young man's hormones had taken over and he seemed to be very rapidly warming up to the idea of exploring his intimidating new CO's unusual body. His hands went up under her skirt, then worked their way up over her bare, toned stomach and up her ribcage to those silicone enhanced barrage balloons on her chest. He eventually leaned forward to plant a kiss on them.

"I have a lot of stations to tour before we set out," Masterson said as she stiffly lowered her metal arm down to her side, again. "So, although you are the one being served, lieutenant, may I suggest you lay yourself down and let me take the lead. I made sure to get myself relaxed and ready before I walked in, and I'd like to set an example to the men for efficient use of time."

"Aye aye, yes, I defer to your expertise, ma'am." Blushing and looking pleased with himself now, Grenville shamelessly unbuckled his pants and let them drop to his knees, revealing the shaved, athletic legs of a fellow who'd probably been on the swim team. He laid down and lazily put his hands behind his head, beaming up at the Captain as she walked over him and lowed herself, putting the shaft between her ass cheeks and starting to rub it between them rapidly.

With her prosthetic hand resting on the younger man's chest, Captain Masterson reached back with her real hand and felt to make sure that the dick sliding between her cheeks was good and hard. She looked down accusingly into the youth's face... but the charms of her body were genuine and his response was likewise. Rather than waiting for her to lower her hips, the lieutenant thrust his hips upward from the floor... but his aim was off, and the turgid head of his member just slid... Captain Masterson spread her legs wider and urged her skirt up higher so everyone behind her could see. The cock-head slid back and forth from the shaved, meaty lips of the captain's pussy to her ass, not going in either.

"Are you intentionally wasting my time, lieutenant?" she demanded, roughly shoving him back down to the floor with steel fingers that left bruises on his chest. "Hold still." Wiggling her buttocks with a jiggle, Gillian Masterson lowered her cuntlips down onto the straining head and slowly relaxed her thighs, letting her pussy sink onto the hard cock with the **** of gravity. Instead of bouncing up and down (which was what Drew usually did, when she was in that position), the Captain was rocking her hips back and forth on top of Grenville's lap, grinding her pubic mound against him and eventually working herself up to a clockwise circular motion.

"Oh yes, yes!" Grenville said, starting to groan in excitement now. "Yes, captain, fuck me!" Drew had expected to be hearing that particular phrase a lot, and even to be having to say it herself on occasion... but she hadn't anticipated hearing it from a man. Seeing the smug boy being dominated like that was starting to excite her...

...but just when Drew was beginning to wonder when some of the other officers around her were going to start getting their hands on her, Captain Masterson, finally starting to move up and down on her 'first lieutenant' (that is, the first one to fuck her aboard this ship), beckoned Drew over with a whir of her mechanical hand. "McKnight, get over here. I'm going to get you wetted up, and amuse myself while I take care of John-boy here."

McKnight could feel all those eyes on her now as she awkwardly stepped over within the captain's reach. Masterson extended her prosthetic arm making a fist. Springs and catches locked into place with a click as the captain extended the index and middle finger of the hand. Dramatically, and without breaking the pace of sliding Grenville's cock in and out of her, Masterson adjusted a throttle on her prosthetic arm upwards, and the two steel knuckles began vibrating rapidly. She held it up against Drew's midsection, right below her navel... even through the rubber of the uniform, Drew could feel that the knuckles were cold, and vibrating intensely. She gasped in spite of herself.

Teasing up and down her abdomen, the knuckles eventually warmed up to tepid thanks to Drew's body heat and internal heat from the arm's engines. With no further warning, Captain Masterson pressed it right against Drew's crotch. After just a couple of fumbling jabs and increasingly intense gasps by the lieutenant-commander, the captain pressed her fire control officer's tiny button of a clit between those two rapidly vibrating knuckles. A tingling sensation shot all the way up Drew's spine and made her head tilt back and her mouth hang open. Wobbling on her heels, she might have fallen if the captain hadn't grabbed onto her thigh with her free hand.

Lieutenant Grenville was burying his face between the captain's breasts now and wrapping his hands around her exposed bottom, squeezing and kneading the cheeks with each rise and fall on his shaft. Just as Drew was wondering how long she could take this torment, Captain Masterson pushed harder... and lower. Powerful shudders ran all throughout LtCmdr. McKnight's body as the vibrating knuckles slid all the way into her pussy, stretching her wider and wider, the whole hand threatening to slip in.

"I'm comiIAHHHHHHHH!" Drew about shrieked herself hoarse as she came, her legs snapping closed around the merciless metal fist that had brought her to such a sharp orgasm. It was intense, and over quickly, leaving poor Drew feeling like she was about to collapse backwards.

At last Captain Masterson gave a strangled grunt herself, the first real obvious sign of pleasure she'd shown so far, and clearly motivated by Drew's reaction as much as by the stimulation she was receiving. Thanks to the glistening wetness of Grenville's cock and the quivers running through her hips it was clear that Captain Masterson had reached quite a height of pleasure, too.

"Captain... you're... you're a lady pervert," Grenville gasps through gritted teeth, looking up at her swinging breasts with intensity and determination. "I won't let you get away without taking my seed... Yes, take it!" He pulled her hips down on him hard, thrusting himself as deep into the statuesque war heroine's pussy as he could get. His hips jerked, and his head lolled back onto the metal floor. When the faintly-wheezing Captain Masterson shakily began to stand up, the softening shaft slid out of her, drooping like a gun barrel that had been fired too many times, trailing white goo along her inner thigh.

She continued standing over Lieutenant Grenville, legs still spread, holding herself up with her mechanical arm resting on a chair. "I'm... glad you enjoyed it, lieutenant... but you haven't proven yourself on this ship yet, which means that your little soldiers don't get any special treatment." To emphasize what she meant, Captain Masterson flexed her muscular abdomen, holding her breath. A few seconds later, without even needing to use her fingers, several bulging droplets of pearly white fluid dribbled out from between her velvety lips and onto Lieutenant Grenville's chest, staining his uniform. Without a further word, the Captain straightened up and stepped off of him.

"Carry on, the rest of you. Get your jollies while you can and be ready for firing drills. Oh... and Lieutenant-Commander McKnight. Make sure you report to my ready room for a word in private once you're done up here."

Lady Luck sure seemed to have a sense of humor, Drew mused to herself silently as she nodded and saluted. Ensign Vallee was already soaking with the cum of four of her fellow gunnery officers and being hefted up between another two. Drew herself was quickly shoved down to her knees and had her face shoved in a bulging pair of trousers before she could recover... certainly not wanting to show any sign of weakness in front of THIS captain, she unzipped them and unleashed the big black python within, gingerly taking it into her mouth and starting to suck... suction that seemed unsatisfactory, as she soon had hands grab both sides of her head and start to throat-fuck her.

Since Captain Masterson departed, Drew and Ensign Vallee were abandoned there, giving one blowjob after the other. Eventually some messy puddles started forming on the floor... and a passing enlisted girl was called in to deal with it. Needless to say, this didn't help the problem at all, as she soon ended up pinned underneath a burly male lieutenant and got no swabbing done - indeed, she was leaking more cum out onto the floors once he finished, and another young man aroused by the captain's show was waiting right behind...

The use was so long, Drew's mind began going blank... and it took Lt. JG Pearson (who had been so chastened that he'd patiently waited his turn) shoving a glass message tube into her pussy from behind as she gave her fourth blowjob. "Message just came in, Commander McKnight. I left it in your mailbox." the big-eared young man said with a mischievous smirk.

As Drew groaned and withdrew the message tube, struggling to open it with her slimy fingers, she heard and felt the engines shift to full power. Was the captain accelerating their schedule yet further, she wondered? But when she opened up the message and read it at last, she was in for a surprise...