Steampunk Desires: An Erotic Romance (The Complete Collection)

by Wilde, Sophia

  The captain said nothing, mulling the situation over, trying to think of a solution.

  “Sir,” Edwin began hesitantly, “I know that you do not like to trouble the passengers, but we may need their help. I have some beds free due to the illness, and if we could get some of our passengers’ help, we could make up the difference.”

  The captain stood silently for a while. Keeping things running smoothly for the passengers was his top priority, but he was reasonable enough to know that getting the ship landed was a still higher priority, and damn the executives: they would fuss about it, but he knew, as did his whole crew, that it was the right thing to do.

  “All right,” he said at length. He turned to one of his aides and dispatched him to ask around third class for volunteers. Edwin went back downstairs to see what, if anything, could be done to move things along.

  *****

  Nora had been staking out the bridge for some time now, wondering if her role model would make another cameo. While she dared not venture down the stairs to the crew’s deck, she hoped to see her again and maybe make contact of some kind. She continued to hold her book, but flipping pages was rather useless. At one point, a steward asked her if she wanted tea; she’d declined. At another point, another steward announced dinner, but she feared that if she left, her opportunity might vanish without her seeing it. Dr. Harriet Beechworth, here! She still couldn’t believe it, and by the time that dinner had come and gone, she’d begun to wonder if maybe she’d just imagined it. Still she held out. She was finally rewarded when she saw the crewman from before come scurrying up the stairs. She put her book down and moved close enough to hear what was going on.

  “…doubtful, sir,” the man had been saying. What she could piece together from the conversation was that there was something going on below her, and that the crew might need help from the passengers. If Dr. Beechworth was somehow involved, Nora reasoned, maybe this was her chance. Just then, the captain dispatched an aide, who walked briskly past her, heading towards the common area. Nora pursued him quickly.

  “Excuse me, sir,” she accosted him, and he turned. “What do you need volunteers for?”

  “Follow me,” he said, “and I’ll let everybody know.” She nodded and followed. The aide was slightly shorter than Nora, probably around 5’4” or so, but he walked with purpose and quickly arrived at his destination. He stood where the orchestra had been several hours before and called out in a loud voice, “Ladies and gentlemen, your attention please: I have a request from the captain, a call for volunteers.”

  His call attracted the attention of most of the people present, and as they gathered, people who had missed the call followed the crowd. Nora stood to the side of the little stage by herself.

  “The captain does not wish to alarm the passengers,” the aide began, “but we are in need of some female volunteers for propulsion.”

  The crowd stirred, but nobody came forth. “What for?” asked someone.

  “There has been some illness among the crew, and they are unable to meet our energy needs,” the aide replied.

  “‘Unable to meet our energy needs:’ what does that mean?” someone else asked.

  The aide chose his words carefully, trying not to start a panic while still conveying the urgency of the situation. “For a proper landing,” he said, “we need additional energy, and the type of energy required can only be provided by women.”

  “Why can only a woman provide the energy?”

  “I’m afraid I can’t explain that; I don’t know.”

  “Then how do you know you need a woman?”

  “I’m acting under the captain’s orders, and he has received word from the propulsion crew and the ship’s engineer,” the aide said patiently. “Admittedly, it is an assumption on my part, but if the ship’s engineer says we need women, then that’s what we need.”

  The audience murmured. Several people left to go do something else. Others began to talk of other things amongst themselves.

  “Are there any volunteers?” the aide asked, a hint of urgency in his voice.

  “What do these women need to do?”

  “They will be involved in propulsion,” the aide said carefully. “The ship is powered by coition, and so it is related to that.”

  “What’s coition?”

  The aide looked uncomfortable. “Intimate relations,” he said.

  The audience gasped. “Intimate relations?” someone asked. “Are you saying you need women for melting moments?” The audience was silent, expecting an answer.

  “Actually,” the aide said unhappily (why did he have to be the one to deliver this news?) “We need women of the Sapphist persuasion.”

  More people left. “Ladies and gentlemen,” the aide implored, “I must have volunteers for us to land!”

  The audience members scoffed indignantly and continued to leave. Soon, the place was vacant, save for the aide and Nora.

  “I’ll go,” Nora said quietly. She didn’t know what a Sapphist was, but if it meant being able to be close to her role model and if it meant letting the airship land, she wanted to help.

  The aide looked at her gratefully. He hoped one would be enough as he led her back to the bridge. Two guards, dressed as common ushers, moved to block their entrance, but the aide told them it was official business, and they let them pass.

  “Captain,” the aide said as he presented Nora, “I’ve found one volunteer.” The captain bowed to Nora and took her hand. “Thank you for your help,” he said. “We are indebted to you.” She smiled and curtsied. “Take her downstairs,” the captain said to the aide. “Mister Bligh will be waiting.” The aide nodded and escorted her down the stairs.

  They passed the deck for the crew, then the engineering deck. Nora’s eyes widened and her heart fluttered with excitement in seeing it. It was so close: it had been so close this whole time! They exited the stairwell at the propulsion deck. A wide open space sat in front of them, littered with chairs, tables, couches, and beds, but it was completely deserted. The aide, who had not been to the propulsion deck since his orientation his first day years ago, was unsure where to go, but with hallways on the port and starboard side of the ship that both extended forward, it seemed they couldn’t go wrong. They began down the starboard side, and suddenly they could see why the place was deserted: everybody was back here. The place was cramped with so many men trying to get in and out of one room. And they were all naked!

  “Hello, who are you?” one of the men asked, surprised to see an unfamiliar face.

  “I’m the captain’s aide, and this is a volunteer,” the aide replied disconcertedly. “Where are your clothes, and where is Mister Bligh?”

  “Bligh? Who’s he?” the man asked, puzzled, ignoring the question about his lack of dress.

  The aide faltered for a moment, his jaw opened slightly in confusion. “Mister Bligh, the one in charge down here. The Master Propulsionsman.”

  “Oh!” the man said, his face brightening with recognition. “You mean Edwin! Come with me.” The aide and Nora exchanged glances, and then followed the man as he called for people to make way. Finally, they found themselves in a room with rows upon rows of beds, most of them with two or more women in them, all of the women naked and in various stages of sex or foreplay. Many of them looked exhausted, as if they had been going for hours.

  “Mister Bligh,” the aide called out above the din. The room quieted momentarily as everybody turned to look. Edwin stepped over to the aide and motioned for everyone to keep going. The din rose again, and Edwin beckoned for the aide and Nora to leave the room so that they could talk.

  “Oy, who’s this?” Edwin asked the aide.

  “This is,” the aide began, but trailed off. He turned to Nora, “I’m sorry; I didn’t catch your name, Miss?”

  “Nora,” she replied. Edwin nodded.

  “Glad to have you aboard, Nora. I’m Edwin.” He paused. “Or Ed,” he added. “Any others?” he asked the aide hopefully.

&
nbsp; “I’m afraid not; the passengers seemed disinclined towards joining giblets,” the aide replied apologetically.

  Edwin sighed. “All right,” he said to the aide, “Thank you.” The aide nodded and left. Edwin turned to Nora. “First off, let me begin by saying that I’m sorry we had to ask you to come,” he began. “We’ve had a bit of sickness, and we don’t have enough energy to land this thing.”

  Nora’s eyes widened. Apparently the aide hadn’t made that part clear to the passengers. Edwin shook his head; that’s probably why there weren’t more volunteers.

  “How familiar are you with how this thing works?” Edwin asked.

  “Not very,” she replied. “I know it runs off sex, and I know Dr. Beechworth is the one who designed it.”

  Edwin started. “You know of Dr. Beechworth?”

  “Yes! She’s my hero!” Nora gushed.

  Edwin grinned and shook his head. “She’s got a following,” he said to himself, almost disbelievingly.

  “Ed, I’ve made the modifications to a few of the PCAs, and–” Harriet trailed off, coming up abruptly behind them and just having noticed Nora.

  Nora turned, and her face lit up. “Dr. Beechworth! I–I–I’m so excited to meet you! May I shake your hand? Please, may I?” she asked in a rush.

  For the first time Edwin had ever seen it, Harriet stood dumbfounded, gaping. She frowned and cocked her head in bewilderment.

  “She’s your biggest fan,” Edwin needled her, giving her a nudge with his fingertips to her shoulder. That snapped her out of it.

  “Oh, um, yes, how do you do,” Harriet said to Nora clinically, extending her hand, which Nora seized with fervor and shook with zeal.

  “I have read everything I can about coital energy, Dr. Beechworth,” Nora said, “and I have always wanted to meet you. I am so excited to finally get to talk to you!”

  Harriet disengaged her hand with some difficulty, and then stopped. “You’ve read my work?” she asked, surprised.

  “Yes, Dr. Beechworth! I’m very interested in it!” came the reply.

  “Oh,” Harriet said cunningly, “is that so?” She exchanged glances with Edwin, who grinned. “In that case, I suspect you’ll be interested to see it firsthand.”

  “Oh, yes, Dr. Beechworth! I’m very excited about it!”

  “I can see that,” Harriet said blandly. Another idiot, she thought, but at least this one was high-energy, which was an improvement over everybody else, except Edwin. “Come with me,” she said, beckoning. Edwin stayed to continue to oversee the room.

  Harriet took Nora to the engineering floor and grabbed one of her prototypes. “This is a Power Collection Apparatus, or PCA,” she said. “The crew calls them ‘brass socks’ for obvious reasons,” she added distastefully. Nora nodded. “As you can see, it’s made of several parts: the body, which goes inside of you, the cord, which conveys power, and the plug, which connects you to the ship.” She handed it to Nora, who held it reverently, like a religious artifact. Harriet frowned thoughtfully. Maybe she wasn’t an idiot after all, she thought as Nora inspected the device minutely.

  “Where is the resonator?” Nora asked. Harriet looked surprised but pleased: the girl really had been reading her work!

  “It’s covered,” she said, taking the prototype back, placing her thumb inside and squeezing her thumb and fingers together. With a click, the cover that formed the inside of the PCA disengaged, and she slid it out easily, exposing the inner workings. She handed the prototype back to Nora, and she didn’t even have to tell her to be careful. Nora took it and held it close to her face so that she could see the ridges on the resonator, painstakingly crafted to resonate at the frequency of orgasm.

  “Wow,” she whispered, biting her lip subconsciously. She had never dreamed she’d meet Dr. Beechworth, let alone get to hold one of her prototypes! This was just too wonderful! She handed the prototype back to Harriet carefully, who put the cover back on and beckoned for her to follow.

  “We need to make sure you’re not sick before we plug you into the ship,” Harriet said, muttering, “That’s what started this mess.”

  As they made their way back to the observation room, Nora took in all of her surroundings: the dusty chalkboards with calculations, questions, and notes scratched all over them, pieces of PCAs, storage capacitors, gauges, and other equipment littered about the place in various states of disassembly, the quietness and dark gloominess of the place. It was perfect, she thought, just perfect. But her reverie was interrupted when Harriet opened the door to the observation room and ushered her inside.

  “Strip,” Harriet said simply. Nora looked at her, a little confused. Harriet slowly raised her head to look at the ceiling, letting out a long sigh. Not again. Not another one. Not another mindless dunce who couldn’t follow simple instructions. She closed her eyes and tried to relax; she and the crew needed this volunteer, and she had to try to be nice.

  “Look, just take off your –” she opened her eyes to find that Nora had stripped completely and was sitting on the bed, looking at her expectantly. “Oh, er…yes, that,” Harriet fumbled. She recomposed herself quickly and handed the prototype to Nora. “This goes inside,” she said.

  Nora nodded and began to insert it.

  “Ah, you’re not a virgin, are you?” Harriet asked. Nora stopped and looked at her.

  “Well, I–er, that is…” Nora stuttered. Harriet waited patiently, curiously. “I’ve never been with a man,” Nora finally got out, “I don’t prefer their company.”

  Harriet nodded. “That’s not unheard-of,” she said. “We have several onboard like that, and actually, that’s perfect for the predicament in which we currently find ourselves.” She paused, and then regained her train of thought. “If you haven’t had anything inside of you, though, the PCA may be uncomfortable,” she warned.

  “What can I do?” Nora asked, undaunted.

  Harriet thought a moment. She didn’t want to disturb the women downstairs; they were all needed at full capacity. She didn’t want to make the volunteer uncomfortable: she couldn’t afford to lose her, and frankly, she was growing fonder of her by the moment. She herself had never been attracted to women, but she reasoned that she could do this for the good of the ship. She shrugged to herself. “Lie back,” she said. “The object is to get you aroused.” She hesitated. She knew there was wide variety in preference from person to person from her research. An idea crossed her mind, and she began narrating what she was doing.

  “The cord to the PCA plugs into this gauge here,” she said, plugging the cord into the gauge. “As you can see, the gauge currently reads zero. That is because I am neither providing energy to the gauge nor absorbing it.” Nora nodded, licking her lips excitedly. Harriet noted her reaction and continued, “The effect is noticeable just from my holding it, since brass is conductive; however, the effect is much more pronounced when the PCA is inside.” She took the PCA and placed it just below Nora’s navel. The cold metal sent a chill up Nora’s spine, and the needle jumped to ten percent. Harriet frowned. “That’s mighty high,” she said to herself, moving the PCA up Nora’s belly between her breasts and her belly button. The gauge stayed put. “Huh,” Harriet said, removing the PCA. The needle dipped back to zero.

  Harriet raised her eyebrows in surprise and turned to Nora. “The gauge was working fine earlier today. Either it’s lost its calibration, or you’re really putting out a lot of energy right now.”

  Nora grinned. Now she was going to be one of Dr. Beechworth’s test subjects! Best day ever! “I’m pretty excited right now,” she admitted giddily.

  Intriguing, thought Harriet. She placed the PCA onto one of Nora’s breasts, and the needle read forty percent. Harriet shook her head in disbelief. “I don’t trust this gauge,” she said, “but if it’s accurate, you’re perfectly healthy, and we shouldn’t be wasting any more time here! Come on.” She waited for Nora to gather her clothes and led her downstairs.

  *****

  Things were
not looking good from the bridge. The helmsman reported heavy winds that were making it difficult to keep the airship on course, and every time he had to fight the wind, it sapped the precious feminine energy. The captain ordered the helmsman to make large corrections, not to try to fine-tune it. “Keep her aboveground and heading generally back to port,” he said, “but don’t be too picky on the direction; we can’t afford the losses of power.”

  With the darkness outside, the passengers could not see the effect of the wind on the craft, but the more discerning ones could feel it.

  *****

  Harriet led Nora back to the feminine energy collection room and took her to an unused bed. The setup was the same for all the beds: a full-sized bed, perfectly made with white sheets; a nightstand with a clock and a logbook, pen, and ink; and two small gauges on the floor with connections for PCA plugs. Harriet plugged Nora’s PCA in. “What was your name again?” she asked.