Steampunk Desires: An Erotic Romance (The Complete Collection)

by Wilde, Sophia

  Edwin’s brow furrowed. “But what about the bipolar energy?” he asked hopefully, “That has both male and female energy.”

  Harriet shook her head. “It does provide some of both,” she said, “but it is impure; because of the way it is collected, it contains elements of both kinds of energy that cannot be separated—at least for now. It works just fine for day-to-day operations and even takeoff, but it is not refined enough to be used for landing. Edwin,” she said gravely, pointing to the gauge, “we have almost zero feminine energy left. Without feminine energy, the ship will be stuck in the air, unable to do anything but fly wherever the wind takes it.”

  Edwin’s face paled to match Harriet’s. That would mean being stranded just above the dock, unable to land, unable to slow down, or worse, crashing into whatever happened to interrupt its path…wait.

  “What if we cut the power to the male energy?” he asked. “Then we could lower a rope or something to let people off the ship.”

  Harriet shook her head again. “Without any energy, the ship will not stay aloft, and it will crash to the earth, killing everyone onboard.”

  Edwin swallowed hard. That wouldn’t work. “What do we do?”

  Harriet’s jaw tensed. “I need to run a test very quickly,” she said. “I need Francine and one of the other sick crew members to go to the observation room. I have to make a modification to my gauges.” She swallowed. “The only thing that explains why the energy has dropped to zero already is that people who contribute while sick do not contribute; they sap energy from the ship.”

  Edwin’s eyes widened, and his breath caught. That would mean that anybody currently engaged in contributing might be draining the reserves right now! He glanced up at the giant capacitor. Sure enough, a spark originating on one of the sides of the glass container shot up into the chandelier-like protrusion at that top and disappeared.

  “Oh, no…” Edwin murmured, and then sprinted out of the engine room.

  Harriet clenched her teeth. Damn it! Why hadn’t she thought of this before? How could she prevent this in the future? What she didn’t know was that although the principle of the device she needed had just been discovered, it was still thirty years from being useful. Even if she had known that, it wouldn’t help her now. There was no time to lose: she had to confirm her theory. As Edwin raced to stop his crew from trying to contribute, Harriet rushed to her lab to begin making the modifications.

  “Scarlett, call everybody involved with female collection together and have them meet me in the female collection room immediately. If they’re in their cabins, do not bother them. I will address them personally,” Edwin said urgently when he found her. She stared at him, mouth slightly agape. It wasn’t like him to be so terse. “I’m sorry,” he said, slowing down briefly, “but this is urgent.” She nodded and started locating everyone she could find. Edwin went to Francine and Mary Elizabeth and dispatched them to Harriet, apologizing for getting them out of bed. Then he made for the female collection room.

  “Everyone,” Edwin said gravely, “the ship is in distress.” There were gasps from the crew. Nothing seemed wrong, but it wasn’t like Edwin to pull their legs. “The feminine energy level is almost zero, and without feminine energy, the ship cannot land.” The gasps turned into cries of fear. “Be calm,” Edwin said sternly. “Harriet is currently researching the issue, but it looks like people who are sick who try to contribute deplete our resources. If you are sick, please stay in your cabin. I am sorry, but we cannot lose any more energy. If you are not sick, please do everything you can to contribute as much as you can.” He looked out affectionately over the faces in front of him. “You know I care about all of you,” he said, “and you know that I wouldn’t put this on you if it weren’t urgent, but this time it is.” Murmurs of assent came from the crew. “Bless you all,” Edwin said. “I know I can count on you.”

  He touched his forehead in respect, and then left to go to address those who had been told to stay in their cabins. He gave them the same instructions. “I didn’t mean to deplete our energy! I’m so sorry!” was the typical response, but he soothed their fears. They hadn’t known, and they were all doing their part by staying in their cabins.

  Next he went to seek out some of the male crewmembers. “I’m sorry to ask this of you,” he told them, “but I need you to play nurse maid.” He could not afford to distract what was left of his female crew, and so the task fell to these men to take care of the sick until they could get off the ship. This they did without complaint: in the propulsion crew, everybody did what was needed to keep the ship aloft, even if it wasn’t fun, and Edwin’s crew was the best of them all for picking up the slack.

  *****

  The music was enchanting. The miniature orchestra that played for the third-class passengers had come around again, and Nora was delighted when they accepted her request to hear the William Tell Overture again. They had played it the first day, and she’d been enchanted by it: the soft, sweet song of the cello, the fierce frenzy of woodwinds, the stillness as the oboe and flute painting a picture almost as beautiful as the one she could see outside, and finally the clarion call that brought the orchestra to life and had all of the spectators cheering and tapping their feet in time all those days ago. Now as the oboe and flute again soothed away the chaos of the previous section, she felt the anticipation growing inside herself, the desire to again hear that trumpet brightly calling to the orchestra and to the audience, stirring them to giddiness. A quietly adventurous part of her stirred, wishing she had a horse to ride down the long corridors of the ship, evading pirates or stirring up trouble of her own. With the climax of the music, she imagined herself sailing over the bridge on her steed, headed for who-knows-where. The thought of being airborne and the final chord of the piece took her breath away.

  *****

  Harriet made it back to her lab and quickly instructed Giles to bring the gauge from her main observation room to the lab pods for modification. She quickly put a new pod together, dragging chalkboards over so that she could scribble on them to perform the calculations required to make the modifications. No sooner did Giles bring the gauge than Harriet set upon it like a starved piranha on a cow, quickly dismantling it, pulling pieces of it out and throwing them behind her, putting new pieces in, and closing it back up.

  “Giles!” she called.

  “Yes, madam?”

  “Take this back to the observation room,” Harriet told him, “and do it quickly. This is very important.”

  Giles did as instructed, and she paced the floor, wondering where her test subjects were. She glanced at a clock. Surely they must be here by now.

  “Giles!”

  “Yes, madam?” Giles grunted as he moved the heavy gauge.

  “Have you seen my test subjects?”

  Giles grunted again and put the gauge down, dusting himself off out of habit and straightening his bow tie. “Yes, madam; they’re in the observation room.”

  “Oh! Giles, why didn’t you tell me?” Harriet asked sharply, tensely.

  “I assumed you knew,” Giles said with a dismissive shrug. “They said you sent them.”

  “Never mind,” Harriet said impatiently. “Get that in there as quickly as possible.” She raced to the observation room. Inside, Francine and Mary sat on the bed, both looking exhausted and sick. They regarded her with sunken eyes as she entered.

  “We have a very important test to perform,” Harriet told them perfunctorily. “I need you two to get off.”

  The two exchanged exhausted glances and groaned aloud.

  Harriet summoned whatever empathy she could and continued through gritted teeth, “I know it’s hard and you don’t feel good, but I have to have this test data right now. The fate of the ship depends on it.”

  The two looked at each other again and seemed somewhat bolstered. “All right,” Francine said wearily.

  “Good. Do you have your power collection apparatuses?” Blank stares answered her.

  “U
gh, your brass socks, your brass socks!” Harriet said, throwing her head back in frustration. The other two glanced at each other and then shook their heads guiltily.

  “Giles!” Harriet shouted. The door opened and Giles trudged through with the gauge.

  “Just in time,” Harriet said. “Put that right there,” Harriet said, gesturing next to the bed, “and then run downstairs and fetch the PCAs for these two.”

  Giles made a face. “Wouldn’t one from up here be satisfactory, madam?” he asked.

  “No, Giles. I need theirs to take out any error in the measurement. Ask Edwin to help you.”

  Giles’s expression continued to convey distaste as he made for the door.

  “Run!” Harriet barked. Giles took off.

  “Now,” Harriet said, “I need you two to do the same thing you did this morning, whatever it was.”

  “What do you mean, what we did this morning?” Francine asked.

  “However the two of you contributed this morning, do it again,” Harriet said with an impatient sigh. “I need you to be consistent in your activities.” The two nodded, and Harriet tapped her finger on the desk impatiently, watching the seconds tick by on the wall clock. Then she began pacing. Giles returned two minutes later, his collar damp, his hair out of place, his breathing heavy.

  “Finally, Giles!” Harriet said, gesturing to her test subjects impatiently. Giles caught his breath and handed the brass socks to the two women and then turned to go.

  “Thank you, Giles,” Francine said softly. Giles paused, his face brightening, a hint of a smile appearing at the corners of his lips. He nodded silently and left.

  “All right, plug in,” Harriet said obliviously. The two plugged the cords on the ends of their brass socks into ports on the modified gauge. Harriet observed the needle closely: it pointed straight up. Harriet had repositioned the scale to read zero when vertical, positive to the right, and negative to the left.

  “Insert,” Harriet prompted, and the two women tiredly slid the brass socks into their vaginas, both too tired to jump when it locked itself in place. The needle drooped slightly below zero.

  “Hmm,” Harriet said, scribbling on a piece of parchment. Abruptly noticing that nothing else was happening, she waved her hand impatiently to the two, saying, “All right, get on with it!”

  Francine and the other crewman sighed. “Come on, Mary,” Francine said, “let’s get this over with so we can go back to bed.” Mary nodded and moved closer on the bed. The two began to explore each other’s bodies with their hands. As soon as they made contact, the needle drooped further.

  “Strange,” Harriet muttered to herself as Francine leaned forward to kiss Mary’s lips. As soon as they met, the needle dropped still further. Harriet’s face screwed itself into a puzzled expression, and she held up her hand. “Wait.”

  The two stopped, looking at her expectantly. Their lips parted, but the needle did not budge.

  “Very interesting. Continue.”

  Mary exchanged glances with Francine and leaned forward to caress her neck with her hand, running her fingertips slowly over the soft skin. The softness of her partner excited Mary, and Francine shuddered lightly under her touch. The needle drooped further still.

  “Wait,” Harriet interrupted again. The two stopped, irritated, and looked at her. The needle remained motionless. Harriet made some notes and gestured for them to continue.

  Francine laid Mary down on the bed and rested her cheek on Mary’s breasts, stroking her side soothingly. Her lips made for Mary’s nipple and took it gently into her mouth, suckling it sensuously. Mary let out a breath of anticipation, and Francine’s head lowered with Mary’s chest as she exhaled. Her fingers continued to stroke gently across Mary’s skin, moving slowly downward.

  Mary reached down and stroked Francine’s hair, appreciative of the feelings she was having. In this aroused state, even being sick didn’t seem so bad. She fondled Francine’s ear, and Francine moaned, Mary’s nipple still in her mouth. The movement of Francine’s hand across Mary’s body became more insistent, moving closer to her groin. The vibrations of Francine’s moan stimulated Mary even further, and her body writhed lightly against the bed.

  Harriet watched as the needle continued its leftward journey. Already it was at negative fifty percent and still dropping.

  Mary tugged gently on Francine’s ear, and Francine rose to press her lips to Mary’s, but not before flirtatiously running her fingers over Mary’s sex. Mary gasped and pulled her in close, and the two wrapped their legs around each other, their crotches pressed tightly together, each of them basking in the warmth of the person next to her. Still the needle dropped, and Mary rolled over to be on top of Francine. She turned and straddled her, her sex above Francine’s head as she ran her tongue over Francine’s navel.

  Francine shuddered, but Mary was only starting. Her tongue lingered at Francine’s bellybutton and then strayed toward her crotch. The smell was inviting, a warm, seductive scent that beckoned to Mary’s tongue, yet Mary paced herself. Her tongue retreated to Francine’s navel again, lingered, and strayed once more. Francine grunted and pressed her legs together in anticipation, but the sickness that had left the two of them feeling terrible had, for a moment, cleared, and Mary wasn’t about to get distracted or to give in to Francine’s growing needs. Again her tongue retreated, and Francine moaned earnestly. At last, Mary let her tongue graze over the folds of Francine’s sex, yet she wouldn’t penetrate. Francine writhed, trying to drive Mary into her, but without success.

  ‘Two can play at this game’, Francine thought desperately, and she reached up with her tongue to flick across Mary’s clitoris. Mary jerked in surprise and unexpected pleasure as Francine settled back down on the bed. But Mary’s concentration hadn’t faltered, and her tongue retreated back to bathe Francine’s belly with sensuous caresses. Francine wriggled, frustrated, and again reached up to get back at Mary. This time, her tongue flicked up between Mary’s folds, distracting her, and she shuddered, sagging down onto Francine’s body. With Mary’s sex now within easy reach, Francine began to lap over her vagina like a mother cat washing her kittens, with long, gentle but determined strokes.

  Mary’s head clouded. What had she been doing? Oh, it didn’t matter. This felt so good! She lowered her face to rest…and her chin landed gently on Francine’s clitoral hood. Francine gasped mid-stroke, just long enough for Mary to remember what she was doing, and she grinned wickedly to herself. Oh, yes. That’s what she’d been doing! With the passion wrought from the attention she’d just received and an almost sadistic enjoyment of making her partners squirm with delight, she pursed her lips and brought them down on top of Francine’s clitoris, kissing, licking, and sucking for all she was worth.

  The needle struck the left side of the gauge, lingered just a moment, and then returned to zero. Harriet frowned, watching as Francine’s orgasm wracked her body. Francine groaned into Mary’s sex, and then instinctively reached forward and bit her clitoris. Mary’s body went rigid as her orgasm ripped through her body. Still the needle remained motionless at zero. Harriet got up from where she’d been leaning on the desk and rushed to it, tapping it vigorously. It didn’t budge. A light came on in Harriet’s mind, and she opened a panel at the bottom of the gauge. Inside was a sealed glass jar. A miniature gauge next to it read zero. Harriet backed away from the jar and leaned against the wall, her eyes widening. Oblivious to the two now soaking up the rays of their afterglow, she walked in a daze to the door, opened it, and left, leaving the door ajar.

  Harriet’s thoughts came slowly, in fleeting glimpses: an image of the engine room. An image of the captain, steering the ship but without success. An explosion as the ship crashed into the newly built Eiffel Tower. The last image stopped her dead in her tracks, and she gasped, the flames licking at her mind’s eye and paralyzing her. She came to, cleared her head and shuddered, and then took off at a sprint for the stairs, passing an astounded Giles on her way. He’d never seen her move in
any manner other than her brisk walk. As he gaped, she flew down the stairs, rounded the corner at the landing, and found herself on the propulsion deck. She stopped. Where was she? Forward or aft? Confound it, they both looked the same! It didn’t matter; she’d figure it out. Wait. There were few women here. This was probably the forward end. She took off, running down a hallway that traversed the entire port side of the ship. She made her way to another hallway that bisected the ship to her left. She turned and raced down it. Halfway down the hallway were two doors, one on the left and one on the right. She turned to the one on the left and threw it open.

  Edwin jumped up from his roll top desk, upsetting his papers and sending them flying all over the floor.