Sex, the Stars & Princess Simla

by Sally Hollister

  “These seem to be some sort of cross between a reptile and an insect.”

  “The ultimate creepy-crawly. Man’s worst nightmare.”

  “Perhaps they’re designed that way then,” Yaf shouted suddenly. “Think of it. If they feared us, they’d send us an image of what we feared most. They could be tiny, benign beings, scared by humanity’s ferocious history.”

  “We’ve thought of that, First Minister,” Elfi said, “But if it’s a deception it’s a massive one. We have holo images of cities, millions of these creatures.”

  Again they sat in silence.

  “What shall it be then, Simla?” Elfi asked, “Shall we release these images to the general population and start a panic?”

  “Yes,” Simla spat emphatically. “Father might fear panic, but I think it will give our people backbone to see these monsters.”

  Yaf smiled at her acceptance of his argument.

  “Very well. Captain, will you have these images transmitted back to Pendor?” Yaf ordered. “And ahead to Jaip, Simla?”

  “No, I want to show them our enemies myself when we arrive. A dramatic touch, perhaps, but I think the situation calls for it.”

  The ad hoc meeting broke up and Elfi joined Simla in her cabin.

  “Now, what is this about Shap?” the Princess asked.

  “His programming is faulty.”

  “Faulty? How? He seems to be performing fine.”

  “It’s the sub-routine that allows him to accept you mating. There’s a conflict and he won’t accept anyone.”

  “What?”

  “The only way I can describe it is cyber confusion. His programming is telling him no-one is good enough for you.”

  “Oh my God, he’s already broken a Duke’s arm. Fix him, Elfi, I intend meeting someone and marrying him.”

  “I wish it were that easy, sweetie, but this is very experimental territory. I told your father that a cybernetic chaperone might not be possible, but he insisted. That piece of programming was detailed by your father and, as you well know, nobody’s good enough for Daddy’s little girl.”

  “The old bugger. Can’t you just pull that bit of programming out?”

  “Shap’s programmed to defend himself, even against me. If I tried to go near his neural net he’d probably rip my head off instead.”

  “You? You’re his mother!”

  “Sure, I built him, but if he thinks I’m any kind of threat, that goes out the window. I’d like to keep him in one piece.”

  “So would I, I like him.”

  Elfi licked her lips. “Good. Anyway, how many men are on this rusty old bucket?”

  “Oh, Elfi, you’re incorrigible.”

  “I’m not the one that has to hang onto her precious virginity because she’s a Princess and I’m not the one with an unstoppable android defending her, so I reckon I’m allowed to be slutty old me. How many, I’ve never had a Pendoran?”

  “Half the ship’s company are women, you’ll have competition.”

  “Naah, Foxy old Elfi from Old Earth will be a very desirable novelty if I know men.”

  “You’re a slut.”

  “Oh relax, I’ll get Shap fixed up and you’ll get laid … eventually.”

  “I don’t want to wait. I’ve met the one.”

  “Yaf?”

  “That obvious?”

  “You were drooling, honey. He’s a little scrawny for your usual tastes though.”

  “You’d be surprised, not so much bulk but wonderful definition. Anyway, a girl can’t dream about bulls when a stallion does such a great job.”

  “Oh my, Shap’s not working at all, you have been getting personal.”

  “Only in my dreams, Doc.”

  “Poor girl. But don’t worry, I shall fuck Pendorans for both of us. The reputation of Old Earth must not be sullied.”

  “We’re going to all the planets, Elfi. I hope you don’t intend screwing your way round humanity’s every refuge.”

  “Oh yes, absolutely,” the older woman grinned, “If anything’s going to bring Earth’s spawn together it’s that little piece of heaven between my legs. I know my duty.”

  “Oh God, I’m travelling with an interstellar nymphomaniac.”

  “Indeed you are, and one that’s eager to get started. The Captain’s a bit old, but the First Officer looks quite dishy. Where do they hang out?”

  Simla accepted the inevitable and led the oversexed scientist off to the officer’s mess.

  The voyage to Jaip took two and a half weeks and though Elfi kept herself well occupied, it dragged for Simla. Her only release was in bed when each night she imagined Yaf came to her. She had never had such persistent dreams and the intensity of his passion for her, the way he relentlessly fucked her, convinced her that he was the one for her.

  She’d woken one night to find him spooned behind her, his cock thrusting between the cheeks of her ass. His hands were on her breasts, gently twisting at her nipples and he was kissing her shoulders. His cock found her asshole and she felt him thrust harder, trying to gain entry. Someday she might let him have her there, but not yet. She reached between her legs and guided his bulbous head to the mouth of her pussy. If he was disappointed, he said nothing, but continued his probing. The sensations this sent through her made her moisten and open, her pussy lips opening like some flower petals in need of sunshine. Slowly she opened to him and her need was for him to enter her, but he knew his business and kept knocking on the door without entering. She got wetter and wetter and a finger confirmed that she was open enough for giants. She pushed back against him, trying to engulf him, but he retreated and kept up his relentless tattoo against her portal.

  “I swear, Yaf, if you don’t stick that thing in me, I’ll kill you.”

  “Ah, the impatience of youth. Be at peace, you’ll get it eventually.”

  As if by way of penance he reached round and put his hand between her legs. His fingertips quickly found her engorged clit and he began a maddening rubbing around the hood. She moaned with pleasure and moved forward to his pleasing fingers. This pulled her away from his cock and now he was the one that had to pursue to keep his penis against her pussy lips. She had him! She pulled away from him again, towards his fingers and when he pushed against her ass she suddenly shoved backwards so that his cock shot into her streaming pussy. They both gave a simultaneous groan of pleasure. But now Simla found herself in a dilemma. Arching herself forward gave her pleasure from his fingers on her clit, but pulled her away from his cock. She danced between the two for a moment, but the orgasm building inside her finally decided her to enjoy his fingers first. Or maybe there was another way. She pushed herself back to him so that she ended up on top of him. Now, she could arch her hips to his fingers and gravity helped her keep his ass plastered on his cock. Her orgasm came quickly and powerfully and once it had passed she planted her feet on either side of him and began bouncing on him, feeling the thickness of him opening her and fucking her. She grabbed her ass cheeks and pulled them apart, for that tiny little bit of extra sensation and Yaf thrust up into her with a mad, powerful, animal passion. Her hair spilled onto his face and he spat out the long black tendrils of her hair..

  “I’m going to come. Do you want more?”

  “I could do this all night, darling, but if you’re ready to blow, go right ahead.”

  And Yaf’s thrusting built up till he was slamming into her at an obscene rate and came with a fusillade of hot cream deep inside her. She didn’t roll off him, but lay back and twisted her head round to kiss him. He was still hard inside her and after resting for a while and enjoying his kisses she sat up in a reverse cowgirl and began riding him. He must have been tender after the tremendous fucking he’d just given her, because he put his hands on her waist to slow her movements. But the lust grew in him as his cum leaked from her pussy onto his balls and he was soon pulling her down on him as eagerly as when he’d first entered her. She leaned forward, knowing this would stretch her ass open and hoped
the sight pleased him. It obviously did because he moved up another gear and his fucking became manic. She reached between her legs and grabbed his great, hairy, balls with one hand. The reaction this provoked nearly threw her from the saddle but she held on, using her free hand to work her clit till both of them came with a duet of satisfied groans.

  Later, she noticed that her behaviour towards him was changing. Where, before, there had been mild flirting, she now found herself breathlessly waiting for him and hanging onto his arm when he arrived. She was declaring, to anyone interested, that this was her man. Yaf took her attentions calmly, neither encouraging nor rejecting them, but holding her at a little distance. She decided that she might end up frightening him off and decided to check his response if she upped the ante. One day from Jaip she had him alone in the observation lounge and said, “I had the wickedest dream about you last night, Yaf.”

  “You still think it’s a dream?”

  “What?”

  “I’ve been making love to you since we left Pendor.”

  “No way. Shap would have killed you.”

  “What did the dear boy say about our nightly encounters?”

  “I was having dreams. I thrashed about in my sleep.”

  “Oh yes, you do thrash about.”

  “Stop kidding, Yaf.”

  “I’m not kidding. Two night ago I bit you on the shoulder. The left one. The mark should still be there.”

  Her eyes widened as her memory raced. She looked down at her shoulder but was afraid to investigate further. Yaf reached over and gently tugged her tunic down. A small, red mark glowed like a beacon. She grabbed her tunic and pulled it back.

  “What does this mean?

  “It means that I bit your shoulder two nights ago. You’ve probably got a matching one on your ass.”

  She turned away from him and stared out into space. “That’s impossible. If you’d actually been coming to my cabin Shap would have stopped you.”

  “I told you once that I was no ordinary Pendoran.”

  “So you’ve figured out a way to fool Shap’s sensors. The Doc’s told me he has faults, maybe this is another one.”

  “Are you complaining, you seemed to enjoy our trysts.”

  “Can Shap see you now?”

  “Oh, I’m physically here in all my glory.”

  “Disappear for him and kiss me, then I’ll believe you.”

  “It doesn’t work like that.”

  “You’re full of shit.”

  She walked away, knowing she was being childish and should get to the bottom of the matter with Yaf. But his assertion that he had actually been making love to her disturbed her. There was something plain wrong in the fact that he’d kept the truth from her. Why hadn’t he just told her he could fool Shap’s sensors and been open about it. Then they could have made love as openly as they wished. But this deception didn’t seem honorable and made her wonder if she really loved her First Minister. She made her way to Dr Vilek’s cabin, needing somebody to unload on and Elfi had long been like an older sister to her. The doctor was lying regally on her bunk, resting her weary bones after an exhausting session with a tall, blonde, gunner. Simla perched herself on the edge of the bunk and spilled her fears and doubts to her friend. The doctor merely laughed.

  “Doesn’t scan, honey. Shap’s sensors can’t be fooled. He scans audio, temperature, odour, radiation and a hundred other factors. I know, I designed them and it would take a genius like me to work out a way to deceive them.”

  “But you said he’d developed a fault.”

  “Only in his programming. Everything else works fine, I’ve checked.”

  “So how’s Yaf doing it?”

  “Simple, he isn’t.”

  “But he knew about the love-bite.”

  “Yeah, that’s an old mind reader’s trick. He says the mark’s there and when you check, it is. Bingo, he’s a winner. If it’s not there he says, oh, it must have faded, and moves on to his next guess.”

  “That seems very devious.”

  “That’s men for ya.”

  “But what does he get out of it? Trying to impress me that he can outwit Shap isn’t going to raise him in my estimation.”

  “You admitted you fantasised about him and he’s just having some fun with you.”

  “Fun? With me?” Simla was genuinely startled.

  “Oh, forgive the poor boy. Your pomposity could do with pricking now and again.”

  “I am not pompous!”

  “Course you aren’t, sweetie, but maybe Yaf’s just railing against the reputation of Princesses of Old Earth.”

  “But I’m not …”

  “Listen, kid, flying around the galaxy in a leather kilt doesn’t make you any less a product of the system. Why, someone could just take that for a whim or affectation. You’ve got to give people time to get to know the real you.”

  Simla ran a hand through her long hair. “Oh, I’m such a clot, I fall in love with every man I meet.”

  “You’ll grow out of it. I did.”

  And the ship’s siren sounded to announce that they were entering orbit round Jaip.

  VI

  The people of Jaip fancied themselves the most artistic of the Twelve Wolrds and, in fact, works of art, including holo movies, books, music and paintings, were their major export. They produced nothing themselves that would enable them to survive but imported these from the other worlds. Simla had thought of leaving them out of the worlds she was due to visit, as it was doubtful they could provide any military aid in their hour of need. But the wily politician, Yaf, had convinced her that visiting Jaip was absolutely necessary. “Let the writers of holo movies see the Riaz, let them feel the threat and they’ll produce films that will span the Twelve worlds and do half your work for you. Propaganda is art too.”

  “They’re all dope-heads, from what I’ve heard,” Simla said coldly.

  “Their bohemian indolence is a myth they’ve perpetuated themselves,” Yaf explained. “Actually they’re some of the smartest operators around. The Jaip economy is the only one that’s consistently grown since the economic union of the planets.”

  “And that’s why the entire human race is addicted to pleasure and not ready for the Riaz.”

  “But the Jaipan were the ones to see that trend to pleasure and exploit it. Now it’s time for us to exploit their artistic abilities.”

  Simla’s entrance to Jaip was in stark contrast to her introduction to Pendor because the Jaipan loved to put on a show. When their shuttle landed at the spaceport there was a red-carpet reception with a committee of dignitaries, trumpeters and flags. Bleachers surrounding the landing deck were packed with cheering crowds and embarrassed Simla who knew that this show was only for her. Not Yaf, or Elfi, or even the Robin in orbit would have drawn such adulation, but a Princess of Old Earth, even in jerkin and kilt, was worthy of their attention and they howled her name till their throats cracked with the strain.

  Despite herself Simla found herself being awed by some of the people who’d turned out meet her. Producers, directors, and the familiar faces of holo actors greeted her and fawned over her. Petro Livon was so tiny, but with such exquisite features, and Eslik Moldoba, the great action hero, was huge in real life. Not just big, but colossally wide. He gave Simla his trademark moue and her heart fluttered like that of any teenage fan.

  There was, of course, no Jaip type, because the planet had the biggest immigrant population of them all. Every writer, painter, musician and actor of the Twelve planets aspired to Jaip and the place was a magnet to the merest of talents.

  They had no military forces at all, but at a precise point a squadron of attack fighters swept over a nearby hill, flew to the spaceport and simultaneously did a victory roll over their audience. They then returned and came to a hover before dipping their nose cones in salute and blasting off vertically and disappearing.

  “Special effects,” Yaf said and Simla made a mental note to see if these talents could be turned to
military advantage. They were standing on a podium, listening to a speech from the President of Jaip and Simla turned to Elfi to discuss this, only to find her friend deep in whispered conversation with a noted and handsome holo director. Simla sighed inwardly; Elfi, having worked her way through Pendor’s finest spacefarers now had her eyes on Jaip’s casting couches, which was noteworthy only because she didn’t even want a part in a holo movie. The President, who had once been executive producer of the classic Wish For Me No More, but was now retired, was blathering away about the ancient links between the colonies and Old Earth and how though they were separated by light years, they would never forget their roots, and was boring Simla to death.

  Finally, the President introduced the Princess and gestured her forward to the microphones and array of holo cameras. She had rehearsed this carefully in her mind, but hadn’t warned either Elfi or Yaf.

  “Citizens of Jaip, greatest artists of humanity, it is my great pleasure to be here and bring you the good wishes of Old Earth. But I do not come with welcome news. The Great Father has sent me for one reason. To warn you that our probes have encountered an alien species that might possibly be hostile. They are intelligent and their technology seems to be more advanced than ours. They look like this …” And at her command Shap turned on the holo projector he was carrying so that a full size image of a Riaz appeared standing next to her. There was total silence for a moment and then one long female scream. Some of the news holo recorders fainted away at their cameras and behind her she heard the dignitaries’ chairs being pushed aside in a panic. She gave an order to Shap and the holo image of the massive alien disappeared. Yaf came up beside her and whispered, “Nice one, put their special effects to shame.”

  The President, recovered from his shock, rushed up and defied all protocol by grabbing her shoulders. “You’re joking, right? This is some kind of gag.”

  Shap lifted him and placed him several feet away. “It is not permitted to lay hands upon Princess Simla.”

  The President realised his error and blushed furiously. “Sorry, sorry, no offence. But you gotta tell me this aint real. Goddam monster aliens? No way!”