Meadowsweet (S1 E2)

Season Notes: This is essentially a heavy nonconsent/dubious consent D/s story set in space that’s as close to erotica as I come. If you are uncomfortable with noncon, explicit sex and/or rape, or fictional slavery, skip this story entirely.

When they reached the ship, Zdenko did as he promised — brought Moira to his cabin, bent her over the bed, pulled the dildo out, and slipped himself into her. Already panting, she arched back against him. She knew that she would feel conflicted later, but right then, she needed to be filled and fucked before she exploded.

“Good girl, Moira,” he said, “just like that,” as he pumped slowly and steadily into her. He kept that steady pace until she was almost frantic, whining and begging. His own breathing heavy, he twisted a hand in her curls and pulled her back against him. With his other hand, he reached around her and tweaked her nipple. She moaned and pushed back against him, that little touch nearly pushing her over the edge.

Letting go of her hair, he grabbed both her nipples and squeezed. She exploded; a moment later, he followed her over the edge, spending himself in her, then laying them on the bed while they caught their breath.

After a minute, Zdenko stood and went to get a wet cloth. He wiped himself down, then tossed the cloth to Moira so she could clean herself. When she was done, he shoved the dildo towards her and watched while she reinserted it, wincing a bit at the stimulation so soon after orgasm.

So clinical, she thought. The sex had been good. She’d always orgasmed more easily than most women she knew, and he had decent technique. But that was all it was. Technique, a moment to rest, then clean yourself up.

When she had the shorts back on, Zdenko sat across the bed from her. “So, rules. You mostly have free roam forward of the cargo area. Don’t touch anything on the bridge. Make yourself useful if you can — cook, clean, give Ezra a hand in the mechanic shop. As long as you don’t cause trouble and don’t try to escape, you’ll get a decent bed, food, and 3% of our profits. Last girl I had bought herself out in 5 years, but she spent a lot on entertainment vids and fancy food. If you try to escape or cause problems on the ship–” he pointed to a corner of the room. Unable to see what he was pointing at, Moira got up and walked over. She bit her lip to keep from gasping. A cage, barely hip-high on her. Next to it a section of the wall with hand and ankle cuffs bolted to it. She looked back at Zdenko, who was fuzzy without her glasses.

“I don’t like locking you up. Not good for you, and a pain for me. But if I have to, then you’ll be locked up any time I, or one of the crew, can’t be keeping an eye on you. Which will be most of the time.”

“I understand. I don’t want to cause trouble, and as long as you are telling the truth, I won’t try to escape.”

“Good.” He reached into the pouch on the wall that served him as a ‘nightstand’ and pulled out a small personal data unit. He tossed the PDU to Moira, who fumbled the catch. “My last girl, Vivian, she was smart enough to save some. Had enough left over to set herself up okay. She left that for you, along with 50 credits in a secure account. You can play with it later.”

Moira hugged the PDU to herself like it was a liferaft. In a way, it was. “Thank you.”

“Alright, so vibes make you panic. What other problems?”

She licked her lips. “Ah… I’m allergic to most oil-based lubes. My ten-year implant is due to be replaced in 2 years. I think. I don’t know how long I was…”

“Yeah, that happens.”

“I haven’t tried much… creative, so there’s probably problems I don’t know about. I don’t like missionary, and my leg gives me trouble if I stand too long, so, like against the wall or whatever doesn’t work well.”

He nodded as she spoke, making a mental list. “All pretty reasonable. Don’t think we’ll have problems. Anything else I should know? What’s wrong with your leg?”

“Old injury that never healed right. You know how it goes; doctors charge an arm and a leg. I’ve got persistent anemia — I’m supposed to get a B12 shot every month. If I don’t, I’ve got about 6 months of feeling like I’ve got the flu — achy and tired. And then things get bad.” She licked her lips again. “I, ah, It feels like I’m about two months without it.” She paused. “And I don’t drink.”

“Bad how?”

“Worst I ever let it get was 2 years. Couldn’t think, could barely get out of bed, my hands didn’t do what I told them, and the doc I finally managed to get to said if went on longer I could have had permanent nerve damage.”


For a moment, neither said anything.

“I’ll try to round up about a years’ worth of your B12 at our next port. The ship will cover 50%; the rest gets added to your buyout. We’ll get you a new implant as soon as possible, covered by the ship.

“Now come on, I’ll introduce you to the crew.”

Zdenko’s introductions were like his sex — got the job done, but no feeling to it. The navigator and second officer was a petite Black woman with short hair named Efe. She seemed friendly but kept her distance after Zdenko glared at her. Ezra, a squat troll of a man with vampire-pale skin, was mechanic and cook. The signals office and third watch was Ildar, red-brown skin, blond hair, and a smile a mile wide. The last member of the crew was Skullfire Aranya, who wasn’t entirely human. She wore no covering but her pale yellow fur, her ears were slightly pointed. Skullfire was cargo master and handled the paperwork at every port.

After Zdenko’s cursory introduction, Moira was half breathless from the constant teasing of the toys. But she was starting to be able to think past the constant arousal. She decided it was time to test the waters. “You said I get a percentage of each run. What is it?”

“One and a half.”

“You don’t have a medic. Make it four and a half, and I’ll make sure none of you loses a limb between ports.”

“What, you a doctor or something?”

“Or something.”

“Two, if we needed a medic, we’d already have one.”

“Four. A medic is like a fire extinguisher. You don’t need one until you do.”

“Three, and that’s final.”

“Deal.” Moira stuck out a fist and Zdenko bumped it. “Where are the medical supplies? I need to take an inventory.”

“We’ve got a box in the common area. But you’ll need to do your inventory later.” Zdenko grabbed the back of her head and pulled her in for a kiss.

“Oh.” Moira didn’t resist and found the man’s technique with his tongue was as good as otherwise. “Of course.”

Return to:
Meadowsweet (S1, E1)

Continue to:
Meadowsweet (S1, E3)

Meadowsweet (S1 E1)

Season Notes: This is essentially a nonconsent/dubious consent D/s story set in space. If you are uncomfortable with noncon, explicit sex and/or rape, or fictional slavery, skip this story entirely.

The 3Ps (‘Personnel Processing Platforms’) in the outer rim were not places anyone wanted to be. Not the overseers, for whom it was (hopefully short) rotation at a shitty job. Not the buyers, for whom it was a necessary evil. And most especially not the ‘Personnel,’ slaves really, who came to the platforms from a number of sources but mostly went two places: the gas mines and ‘entertainment’ facilities. Debating which was a worse fate was a common pastime. Those condemned to the mines had a shorter life expectancy, but the highest cause of death among the entertainers was suicide. So long life expectancy wasn’t much of a selling point.

Captain Zdenko of the Meadowsweet was one of those who sometimes came to the 3Ps to offer a third choice. In Zdenko’s case, he /did/ offer a choice — if a slave didn’t want to come with him, he’d send them back and pick another. But he was honest enough to admit that under the circumstances, it wasn’t exactly what you’d call ‘freely chosen.’ And he wasn’t surprised that on his three prior visits, his purchases hadn’t been at all interested in telling him ‘no.’

Now Zdenko and the Meadowsweet were back for the fourth time. As usual, he’d spent the trip hating himself for giving in to his weakness and cursing the day he’d landed on Verda. He hated that he couldn’t afford to throw enough money around to buy everyone free and get the hell out of there.

Or maybe stage a jailbreak. Ezra would get behind that. Bust down the doors, kill some shitheads, load up everyone they could on the Meadowsweet…

But ‘everyone they could’ would be maybe ten folks tops before the life support gave out. Then they’d be hunted down by governments, corporations, /and/ pirates and he’d end up right back here… on the inside of the cells.

So instead, he was one of the shitheads.

He gave his usual requirements to the overseer who met him, turned down the pro-forma offer of a beverage, and waited with as much patience as he could manage.

A few minutes later, the shithead return leading a naked woman. Redhead (natural), who squinted like she needed glasses, carried at least 50 extra pounds, and jug-handle ears. She had a limp, but nothing so bad it would interfere with her ‘duties.’ Her name was Moira.

Moira wasn’t in hell. She knew that. Hell was what came next. But that didn’t keep it from feeling like hell. Still, she kept her head up and her stride steady as she followed the overseer into the small room where Zdenko waited.

She hated him immediately, like she hated all of them. But she knew he might be her ticket out of hell. So she bit her tongue, kept her eyes off him, and waited with as much patience as she could manage.

Zdenko sent the overseer out of the room, introduced himself, and asked her name.

“Moira.” He rolled her name over his tongue, liking the feel of it. “Here’s the deal, Moira. Anytime you want, you can tell me ‘no,’ walk out the door, and I’ll tell the shithead out there you don’t suit, and you can go back to your cell. If you don’t, then you belong to me until you can buy yourself free.”

Moira started at that and Zdenko grinned. “Thought that would get your attention. I run a small freighter, the Meadowsweet. You will be, being blunt about it, my sex slave.”

“Me?” she was startled into exclaiming. He, correctly, figured it was because of her looks.

“Not to be crude, hon, but one hole is much like another.

“Your job will be to be available anytime, anyplace, anyway. The word ‘no’ will have no place in your vocabulary.

“When I feel like it, I’ll share you with my crew. We’ll all try to make it good for you; blood and screaming aren’t exactly arousing. But that’s the most I’ll promise.

“If you do your job and keep us from tearing each other apart, you’ll get a percentage — /small/ percentage — of our trades. You spend that on what you want or save it to buy yourself free. Your buyout is what I spend on you today plus 5%.”

Moira wasn’t one to rush into things. Even less so now, when rushing in had gotten her into this mess. But… “I have no reason to believe you are telling me the truth.”

Zdenko grinned. “Nope. But what are your alternatives? You aren’t pretty enough to get snapped up by the entertainers, so that means the mines. If you take a chance with me, you can be free in five years. In the mines…”

In the mines, she’d likely be dead in five years, and they both knew it.

“I accept… Sir.”

“Good, that’s good. ‘Sir’ or ‘Captain’ is how you call me. Now turn around, bend over, and grab your ankles.”

She did as she was told, bracing herself for whatever he’d do. Inspect ‘the goods,’ she assumed. To distract herself, she quipped, “At least you didn’t say touch your toes.”

He chuckled. “Got a sense of humor, nice. You hold onto that Moira, and I think we’ll do okay.”

He opened up his supply bag and applied lube to both her holes. She shivered and bit her lip but otherwise didn’t move. Then he inserted a stacked-ball dildo into her vagina and slowly-but-steadily inserted a thin anal plug. She gasped and whimpered, not liking the burn of the plug.

“Not used to using the back door, are you?”

“No, Sir.”

“Well, you’ll get used to it. Now stand up.”

She obeyed, muscles twitching as the movement changed the way the insertables sat inside her.

“Here, put these on.” He handed her a pair of tight boy shorts. “Eventually, you’ll learn to hold that dildo in yourself, but for now, you get a bit of help.”

Already, the sensation of those toys was making her warm, making it hard to think, but she caught the meaning behind that. “Sir… am I to have these… all the time?”

“Unless I tell you to take them out or you need to use the head. You take them out, you wash them, you put them right back in. I got those just for you, so you don’t need to worry about anyone else’s gunk on them.”

“… thank you, Sir. Can I ask… why?”

“You can always ask,” he assured her as he repacked his bag. “Rather have you ask, just be polite about it.

“I told you, you’re going to be available to me anytime I want you. That dildo and plug will make sure you are always wet and always stretched… well, not /that/ plug. I’ve got some bigger ones on the ship but figured we’d start slowly. And for the most part, they’ll also keep you eager. Like I said, trying to make it good for you.”

“Oh… thank you, sir.”

He opened the door and walked out. She followed behind without prompting. Each step brought another burst of sensation, another wave of arousal. She shuddered, trying to imagine spending the next several years like this… and likely more and worse (better?) when the captain was actually trying. And she believed he would try. There was a note of pride in his voice when he spoke of ‘making it good for you.’

Thinking of what he might come up with when he was paying attention to her brought up a memory so sharp she froze. Cold fear wiped out every bit of arousal the toys had pulled out of her.

“Sir… sir, you can’t–”

He whipped around and grabbed her upper arm. “What did I say about the word ‘no’?”

“I’m sorry, sir. I’m sorry, I just–”

“No ‘just,’ no ‘buts.’ Do you hear me?”

“Yes, sir. Please, sir,” questions. Questions were allowed. Make it a question. “Please, sir, would you please not use vibrators on me?”

He blinked, surprised. “You don’t like vibes?”

She swallowed. “I… they don’t feel good, sir. The last time I tried, I had a panic attack. I’m going to be good, sir, I promise. I want my life back, and you’re the only one who has offered me even a chance at that.” Now that she had started talking, the words tumbled out beyond her control. “I’m not trying to make trouble, and I’ll remember to never say ‘no,’ and I’ll not cause trouble with your crew. But if you want to ‘make it good’ for me, I need to be able to tell you things. Things like this.”

She started out pleading, but by the end, she’d stiffened up, got some steel in her spine. Impressed, he nodded. “You’re right. And I never would have thought that vibes would be a problem like that. But this isn’t a conversation to have here.

“Once we’re back on ship, I’m going to take a chance to get to know you,” he palmed himself, “Because I’m not sure how much longer I can wait. Just straightforward sex with no extras. Then we’ll talk.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

Relieved, she continued following him through the passages of the 3P. Each step once again increasing her arousal. She wanted to rip out the dildo and plug, to stop feeling when she needed to think.

Since she couldn’t… stars. She hoped they reached the ship soon.

Return to:
Webserial Catalog

Continue to:
Meadowsweet (S1 E2)