So it was therefore a mutually beneficial relationship that allowed Kyle to throat-fuck the little redhead on a semi-regular basis.
He lifted his head off the back of the little couch in the room he shared with Bunny, his hands gripping the petite ginger’s pigtails as he pulled her face to his groin over and over, the tightness of her throat well lubricated by her own saliva and the remnants of his first load.
The deal was simple, so long as Eniella was grinding his Bunny’s face into her groin, Davie had to do the same with his, however many of his loads that meant the bedraggled girl ended up having to swallow.
Their record was five, though both Eniella and Davie needed minor medical attention afterwards, for a raw clit and a sore throat respectively.
Doctor Wu was not impressed.
He grunted as he began to climb to his peak again, forcing Davie to move harder and faster on his cock, her throat making obscene slobbering noises as he plunged his length down it over and over.
“Aw fuck Bunny! Again baby! I’m cumming again!”
She paused in her tongue work on Eniella’s clit to respond with a yowling moan for his benefit.
“Let me hear it daddy!” She sang out.
With a few more thrusts into Davie’s throat Kyle let out a groan and pulled his cock out just enough so that the petite woman had to taste his cum as it shot across her tongue.
She hated the taste of cum, but it was all part of the game the four of them played.
Davie wasn’t supposed to enjoy it.
Bunny’s tongue went back to work on Eniella’s clit even as Kyle grunted and rammed himself into Davie’s throat a couple more times as his orgasm played out.
“Taste it! Fucking taste that cum you skinny little bitch! Fuck me!”
More and more of his cum spilled into her mouth and she desperately swallowed to try to keep up, gagging all the while as she struggled not to vomit.
Eniella abruptly screamed her own release: she had been watching Kyle dominate her lover’s mouth and the sight of him debasing her combined with Bunny’s efforts had her squirting all over the cat-girl’s face.
It took a few moments for two of the four people in the room to come down from their orgasms, panting heavily.
Eniella broke the silence after several seconds.
“Thanks Bunny, that was fun. But now I need to nibble on something sweet and get some rack time.”
Kyle released his death grip on Davie’s head and slowly pulled his softening cock out of the freckle-faced girl’s abused throat while she made more gagging noises around it.
Once he was free of her she swallowed shakily and gave a couple of burping coughs, then shared a cordial nod with him as they both stood to go get cleaned up.
Despite the rough treatment, Kyle and Davie got along just fine outside of his quarters.
The reality of it was everything that he did to her throat with his cock was entirely Eniella’s fault. Which meant that, inevitably, the redheaded pilot would act all hurt and betrayed for a few days while her pink-haired lover fawned over her and strove to make up for her sexual weaknesses, both in their bunk and out of it.
It was a fucked up dynamic, but then again: aren’t they all?
__________
Elsewhere on the ship a different redhead woke from a violent nightmare, sitting straight up in bed with knife at the ready to gut the men who were raping her and her sister.
It took Eva more than a few moments to shake off the familiar memory, so it was almost a full minute later that she stowed the blade back in its sheath under her pillow.
She was smart enough to know that sleeping with a gun was as stupid and uncomfortable as it sounded, but she couldn’t rest without having a weapon close at hand.
The cold fabric clinging to her skin made her cringe so she pulled her sweaty tank-top over her head and cast it to the floor of her bunk.
Naked now save for a pair of loose shorts, she got out of bed and began to work through a series of ancient relaxation exercise, her small freckled breasts soon glistening with the effort of maintaining the more difficult poses.
The exercises didn’t do much to restore her calm, but they at least helped her get her body exhausted enough to sleep again.
Not for the first time her mind juxtaposed the harsh groping hands of the men from her nightmarish past with the soft warmth of Bunny’s hug from earlier.
She hadn’t had sex in a decade and somehow the K’or-Macka could always sense her tension. Many times in the last two years Eva had almost succumbed to the temptation of the gentle and loving pleasure that the feline constantly offered.
But that would mean letting down her guard, something she didn’t think she was capable of doing anymore.
Eva Reeves lived her life in a state of constant vigilance; this was in contrast to her sister’s reckless and almost hedonistic approach.
She knew exactly what Davie was up to at that moment, and she did not approve.
She had promised herself long ago that no one would ever hurt her or her twin again, and to keep that promise she enlisted in the Dungeness Marine Corps, intent on turning herself into the most lethal redhead in the universe.
She was definitely in the top fifty.
So far her guarded strategy had been working, but Bunny was steadily softening her defenses, which meant that poor Eva had to find an outlet for ten years worth of sexual tension. Killing people didn’t quite scratch the itch like it used to and fingering herself alone in her bunk wasn’t cutting it anymore either.
She sighed as she gave up on her exercises, then activated the console next to her bed and browsed to a familiar shopping site on the slipspace datanet.
The kind of site that Bunny would visit.
But while scrolling through the various product offerings her mind inevitably drifted back to Davie: reckless little Davie, once so terrified and helpless, now acting like a complete whore for the amusement of her so-called girlfriend.
In the end Eva powered down the console without placing an order.
She double checked that her knife was in a good position beneath her pillow before flopping down and trying to get back to sleep.
Her dreams were plagued with confusing images of her and Davie’s hellish childhood, side by side with the erotic cat-girl that so confounded her.
__________
Meanwhile, while the various shipmates were resting or fucking, Donnie and Billy were triple checking their exo-rigs in the drop-pod locker room below the tactical operation center.
It was technically Eniella’s job, and she certainly had done it already, but the veterans preferred to check their own gear.
“You have a plan for if this doesn’t pan out?” The doctor asked.
Donnie shrugged.
“Suicide pact. I do you, then you do me.”
“Oh no, you can go first, I insist.” Billy replied with a smirk, but her levity was short lived; “Seriously Donjoon. What are we going to do if this is a dead-end?”
Her use of the captain’s full name undercut just how concerned she was.
“Don’t ask me questions you know I can’t answer. Why can’t you just blindly trust me like Bunny does?”
The corner of the Asian woman’s mouth twitched again.
“I will, and have, followed you into the tightest spots you could find. But you and I both know how this story could end. We’re closer to the edge now than we’ve been since leaving the service. We won’t have enough food to get anywhere with a grocery store if we stay on Kentis for longer than two weeks.”
“Three if we starve Maria. But I take your point. We were supposed to resupply once we rendezvoused with Demarco’s contact. But without the cash from that deal...” She shrugged helplessly.
Billy shook her head as she refitted the armoured panel into the chest of her suit with a smack of her balled fist, satisfied that the suit’s augmentation gyros were configured correctly.
“I can’t help but agree with Eva about tha
t man. If anyone on that station deserves a bullet, it’s him.”
Likewise refitting the armour plates to her rig, Donnie turned and pursed her lips at the doctor.
“You’re more than welcome to stuff a ball in his mouth and break out the riding crop next time we see him. But don’t be surprised when you catch a bullet yourself for your trouble. He’s a bit of a tubster but he’s a slick one, don’t underestimate him just because he talks good.”
“‘Talks good?’”
“You know what I meant. Now come on. Let’s go eat the last of the ice-cream and gossip about boys while everyone else is asleep.”
That got a quick laugh out of the doctor.
“You got a death-wish? Whatever, I’m game.”
Donnie climbed up the ladder into the tactical operating room below the cockpit, waiting for Billy to follow and close the hatch behind her before heading out into the common room.
Seeing that there was no one else around, she opted for one last comment on their earlier conversation.
“Look, I’m trying not to freak out the crew too much. So maybe let’s not mention all that heavy shit about being close to the edge yeah?”
“I’d be a lousy first officer if I did. Now go get the bowls, I’ll get the spoons.”
Chapter 3:
Falling Pixies
Their various kinky activities notwithstanding, several hours later the crew arrived at Kentis more or less well-rested and raring to go.
The majority of them were gathered in the sealed drop-pod on the ship’s belly, all save Davie and Eniella who were both sitting in the cockpit, back to back in the flight seat and the fire control respectively.
If shit went sideways on Kentis, the Pixie Hazard would be the one doing the heavy lifting in a firefight, so they needed their FCO to have her finger on the trigger.
As was the case with any gunship, the cockpit was hardened from the rest of the vessel, to ensure that the bridge crew could operate it right to the bitter end. The curved plex-glass that afforded the pilot and crew a view of space could be covered up in less than two seconds by a retractable and extra thick layer of armour plating.
When it came to combat in space, the various sensors and scopes were far more important than the naked eye.
And Pixie was custom, bitches.
The ship’s original cockpit design required a three man flight-crew: pilot, navigator and fire control, sitting in a neat front-facing triangle with the pilot in the fore, navigator on the left, and weapons on the right.
But Davie was qualified to wear two hats, serving as both the pilot and navigator. So one of the first things Kyle did when he came onboard was heavily modify the cockpit so she didn’t need to keep switching chairs.
After removing all of the original seating he installed a Lancer class short-range fighter’s dual seat block they’d salvaged, with the two seats back-to-back and facing in opposite directions to maximize space.
He then updated the navigation console and moved it from its original location to down and to the left of the flight controls: unobtrusive, but within easy reach of the pilot.
Lastly he helped Eniella update and expanded on the Pixie’s fire control console and move it in front of the rearward-facing seat. This allowed them to expand their weapon capabilities by adding two additional banks of Javelins to the bow and to include a pair of Doberman launch pods, a rarity for a ship her size.
In the end they ended up with a leaner and meaner Pixie, and a relatively spacious as well as highly efficient cockpit setup, though the crew often teased that the boost in efficiency came from the inability for the pilot and FCO to make googly eyes at each other.
When the new cockpit was completed Eniella promptly christened it by giving Kyle Davie’s mouth for the first time. The two of them were just that grateful to not have to deal with a forty year old set-up anymore.
Having already mapped out their drop-zone, they were hovering in geostationary orbit a few hundred klicks outside the atmosphere, well within Kentis’s gravity well, waiting on the captain’s order to make the drop.
They could opt for a standard entry procedure: it would certainly be safer, but then they would draw a line on the scopes of anyone who might be watching, not to mention be plainly visible to the naked eye for a solid chunk of time as they gradually descended over dozens of kilometres of open air.
No, the Pixie Hazard was a dropship, which meant they would drop straight down, barely a speck on hostile scopes and the descent over in less than three minutes.
Donnie slapped a clip against her helmet, then shoved it home in her plasma shotgun and primed the weapon. In preparation for the drop she already had her helmet on and sealed.
Only Kyle and Bunny wore regular dirty orange civvie environmental hazard suits; they could walk in space or through toxic sludge with them, but they wouldn’t stop a bullet.
The rest of them were happy to tease the two non-combatants mercilessly about their cute little orange baby suits, because like the captain they were clad in their own dull black and battle-scarred exo-armour.
It paid to survive a full enlistment term with one of the mega-corporations’ marine units.
The captain turned to her crew as they were strapping themselves into their seats and spoke through the headset in her helmet.
“Alright listen up! It’ll be late afternoon when we hit the ground at our chosen LZ, so we won’t be at it long today, I’m not picking through garbage in the dark. We work in pairs. Billy you’re with Hooker, Sledge with Kyle and the Bunny is with me. Scans show minimal rads in that heap below us, but if the wind picks up that number can spike fast, so Eniella will be watching out for us from the Pixie after we make our drop. Doc Billy gave you all your shots but I don’t want to deal with hair loss on my ship, so let’s work fast.”
They all had a chuckle at the idea of going bald from radiation, and Maria tossed few barbs Eva’s way for the wild mop of frizzy hair stuffed into her helmet.
Donnie let them get it out of their system before she continued.
“Kyle’s uploaded the image of the conduit thingy into your suit’s HUD. When we hit the ground we use the sniffers to check for iridium. If they pick it up, it will either mean industrial waste or broken ship parts. The hope is that where there are broken parts there might be un-broken parts, so if the sniffers start beeping call it in to Eniella. Kyle and Bunny have salvaged here before so if we keep our eyes peeled we should be alright, but stay in coms range of the ship and watch out for Junkers! Those fuckers will want the suits off our backs and they won’t mind putting holes in them to get ‘em. Clear?”
The marines in the bunch gave a chorus of ‘yes ma’ams’, meanwhile Kyle offered a straightforward nod and Bunny gave an enthusiastic double-thumbs up, the naively bubbly girl far more excited about the prospect of the drop than concerned over Junker bullets.
One way that she differed from most of her kind, Bunny was something of an adrenaline junky.
Donnie strapped herself in place and gripped the handles on either side of her seat.
“Alright then. Davie, Initiate the drop. Grab your balls ladies, this is the fun part!”
Sitting beside one another, Maria and Eva bumped the sides of their fists together nonchalantly as they had done in every drop they ever shared, as much a good luck ritual as it was a silent promise to have each other’s backs.
Meanwhile Bunny let out a whooping giggle and clapped her hands in glee: it was her first time actually being in the pod with them during a drop.
Davie cut the thrusters to stop fighting the planet’s gravity and the ship fell like a stone.
Even through their suits they could all hear the whine of the Pixie’s inertial dampeners as they tried to compensate for the abrupt shift in gravity, followed by the deep clunking noise of Davie disengaging them.
They were in total freefall now, simultaneously floating in place but strapped into their seats.
It was actually very peaceful until they hi
t the atmosphere, then the whole ship began to rattle and shake violently and their asses hit their seats hard.
Barely a minute later and Davie’s voice drawled over the coms as they shook around in their harnesses.
“Here comes the push ladies! Hope none of you are secretly carrying Kyle’s baby because that little fucker will pop out!”
Maria, Bunny, and even Eva burst out laughing.
“Fucking comedian.” Kyle muttered.
As promised Davie fired the thrusters again, gravity abruptly hit them with a vengeance, and the crew felt their teeth rattle some more from the added weight of their own bodies catching up to them.
It only got worse from there.
Their personal sense of mass increased by the second as the behemoth was slowed down in its reckless hurtle towards the planet’s surface, until they all felt like their weight had quadrupled.
Soon enough the rattling and the strain on their bodies began to ease off. While Bunny and Kyle recovered from the intense sensation, Billy activated the coms in her helmet.
“Eniella, what are the scans telling you?”
“Uh, that I should have been a television repairman?” Eniella responded with a bit of snark.
Donnie shared her first mate’s exasperation at that point.
“The hell is a television? Mendez! Quit fucking around!” She snapped.
“We’re still shedding atmo Skipper! Scopes can’t see shit until- wait! Okay scans are up. Give me a minute.”
With each second that passed, the heavy gravity in the pod diminished further as they gradually slowed and stabilized, finally hovering barely a hundred feet above the assorted piles of garbage below.
Hardly standard drop protocol, but Donnie didn’t want the Pixie’s landing gears touching the ground until she was sure their landing zone wasn’t compromised.
“Talk to me Mendez.” She said impatiently.
Pixie Hazard Page 3
