Meadowsweet, S1 E11

Season Notes: This is essentially a heavy nonconsent/dubious consent 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. Violence.

Moira, watching on her datapad, was shocked at how fast the fight had been. She had never seen a real fight before — brawls, teenaged dust ups, yes. Tournaments, many. But not this kind of life-and-death violence where nothing was for show and every move was calculated for maximum damage.

She was still grappling with how quickly everything had changed when Zdenko stuck his head back through the door.

“Stay here, I’m locking the door behind me. We need to take out the rest of them and find their ship.”

Moira nodded convulsively, staying safe behind a locked door sounded like the best idea she’d ever heard. Still… “Wait… how can I talk to you?”

Zdenko looked at her like she’d been talking an old Earth language — Mandarin maybe, or Thai, rather than galactic standard. “What?”

She waved the datapad at him. “I can see what they are doing. Shouldn’t I have a way to tell you?”

He blinked, then said, “We can monitor the security feeds through the bridge.”

Skullfire, able to hear better than most of the crew, shouted from the common room, “Don’t be a fool captain. We can’t leave anyone behind to monitor security, we need every claw we have.”

“But–”

“Lock her in the bridge instead. She’ll have full access to security there and if they try to take the bridge, she’ll be able to tell us.”

Zdenko looked like he wanted to argue, but after a moment gave a curt nod. “Fine. Get in the bridge. But no funny business. You can use the ship’s intercom from there.”

It took a moment for everyone to realize there was no way she was getting herself to the bridge. So set up something like an old-fashioned bucket brigade, with Moira as the ‘bucket’ being tossed from one to the next until she was strapped into one of the bridge seats. Ildar gave her a 30 second class on using the ship’s intercom, and then she was alone and locked in an area of the ship she’d never before set foot in.

After a tentative attempt at controlling the security panel, she decided to continue relying on her datapad for everything except the intercom. Use what you know was the most common sense law of any combat.

She didn’t pay attention to the plans the crew were making, instead turning her attention to the cargo hold and eternal cameras. The two hijackers she and Zdenko had seen in the cargo area a few minutes ago were still there. But instead of searching for the crew, they were searching the cargo itself, reading off the numbers stenciled on various cargo containers. Carefully she flicked on the intercom, trying to activate it only in the crew common area. “They’re looking for something in the cargo.”

Apparently, she got it right, as the hijackers didn’t react to her words and the crew all looked toward the camera and Zdenko gave her a thumbs up.

On the externals, she didn’t see anything. Which made no sense — there had to be a ship somewhere. They weren’t in what the crew called the Deeps — the vast empty space between solar systems. They were, however, on the far edge of an Oort Cloud, which meant they had to be at least 10,000 AU from their destination. (Moira didn’t know much astrogation, but she knew that much at least.)

For the hijackers’ purposes, they might as well be in the Deeps — they had to have a ship somewhere nearby.

Of course, that raised the question of how another ship had found them. This wasn’t a random hijacking, not if they were looking for something specific in the cargo. Moira might not know anything about spaceships, but she knew enough history to be able to figure that much out for herself.

Moira didn’t stop to wonder why the ship had exterior cameras. Those with some knowledge of space ships and space navigation tended to assume that visual navigation would be useless to a space ship. What good was light detection when traveling faster than light? They were right, as far as it went. But to each task it’s tool. Video was useless, even at the best enhancements available to anything the size of a ship, for seeing much further than a couple dozen miles away even in the airlessness of space. But gravitonics and other sensors used to avoid asteroids, rogue comets, other ships, and the rare deep space hazard at high speed were completely useless for such critical (if low speed) tasks as aligning with a stations’ docking ring or zeroing in on a landing field.

And since they needed to have cameras anyway, and cameras were cheap, most ships had lots of them. If nothing else, it was easier to use the cameras to check for external damage than send someone out in a spacesuit.

Because Moira didn’t know that there ‘shouldn’t’ be cameras or why, she didn’t know about the other sensors any ship had as a matter of course, or how to check them. So she didn’t see the small high-speed cutter sitting with its lights out a short distance (in interplanetary terms) from Meadowsweet.

While Moira was searching the space for the ship that had to be there, the crew was zeroing in on the remaining hijackers. “Sneaking” wasn’t really possible in a cargo hold. Especially one with the gravity turned off. So they didn’t even try. Just spread out a bit and moved toward the noise the hijackers were making.

The fight itself … well, it would probably be a mistake to call it a fight. It ended up being more a complex game of hide and seek that ended when Efe got a clear shot at one of the hijackers and Skullfire pinned the other against one of the cargo pallets.

The two surviving hijackers were tied up in the crew’s common area. The bodies were searched and tossed out the airlock. Later, when Ildar reviewed the logs, he found the hidden ship. It started building acceleration immediately after the two bodies went out the airlock.

Meadowsweet, S1 E10

Season Notes: This is essentially a heavy nonconsent/dubious consent 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. Violence.

On the bridge, Skullfire Aranya cursed silently to herself as she peered around into the common room. In their native environment, even the clumsiest of her people had some natural stealth. Under the humans’ yellow lights and against the dingy metal walls, the greatest of them had difficulty sneaking. In zero-G…

It had been pure luck that she’d been on the bridge when everything went to hell. But it was luck she was going to make use of.

Efe had still been in the break room when the hijackers came in. Actually, she’d fallen asleep while Moira was dealing with the captain. Like the captain and Moira, she’s woken up several feet above where she’d fallen asleep.

Unlike them, she’d been startled awake by the hijackers. The rest of the crew would never let her hear the end of her immediate, frightened shriek, but she was cunning enough to follow up on a good opening. Now she was a blubbering mess, cringing away every time the guns twitched, and inch by inch ‘swimming’ toward the hold-out gun stashed under the couch. One of these centuries, she thought, people would stop underestimating a pretty woman in tears. But for now, she got to have her freak out and kill them too.

Ezra was floating between the guns and Efe, using small swimming motions of his hands to keep himself in place. He liked to plan, Ezra did. He wasn’t a quick thinker like Efe or Zdenko. So, he thought long instead. When the hijacks rounded him up, he knew his role. He went right into belligerent mode. Get in their faces, get them on him. It came naturally to him, but the main point was it got the attention off the quick and cunning folks so they could unleash hell on whoever needed it. These assholes definitely needed it.

Ildar seemed to lean against the wall, arms crossed, watching. It was one of his parlor tricks, and right then, it was intimidating as hell. Anyone who could lean against a wall in zero-G and not go spinning off could fly rings around the average spacer.

He’d been on watch when a warning light went off, and he’d gone down to the engine room sure that it was the cooling system needing to be reset (again). They’d rounded him up and brought him here. He hadn’t given them a moment’s trouble, but they recognized his silent threat. What attention they had to spare from Ezra’s imitation berserker was centered on Ildar.

In the cargo hold, two more hijackers swept through the stacks, searching for any missing crew. A final hijacker guarded the engine room against any attempt to re-take it.

This was the scene, the moment of calm before chaos that Moira and Zdenko saw part of on Moira’s datapad. Zdenko wasn’t sure why the hijackers hadn’t checked the bridge or any of the crew cabins yet. They couldn’t have gotten this far and been that foolish.

But whatever the reason, it gave him and Skullfire an opportunity, and he was damn well going to use it.

Zdenko flung himself toward the door of the room, pausing only a moment to be sure of his handholds. “You hacked the cameras. What else you got?”

Moira fumbled, again, for the wall and data unit. “Ah… I think I figured out how to adjust the lights? I didn’t really try to dig deep; I didn’t need to and…”

“Fine. Blink the lights in here and on the bridge.”

Moira needed both hands, so she let go of the wall and let herself tumble, swallowing down nausea. It took her a few moments while Zdenko could only hope nothing in the crew area was changing. Then the lights started blinking.

One… two… thr–

Zdenko slammed the door open and got off two quick shots against the nearest hijacker. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Skullfire launch herself into the room. Chaos erupted and ended between one breath and the next.

When it was quiet again, Efe had the gun in her hand and held it on the remaining hijacker, who was pinned between Ezra and Aranya. Ildar was gone, already halfway down the corridor with a throwing knife in each hand. And, of course, the hijacker Zdenko shot was spiraling from the force of the darts, spewing blood and… other stuff.

Quiet, of course, was relative.

“Everyone okay?” Zdenko bellowed.

“Where the fuck did these assholes come from?” Ezra demanded.

Efe jammed her gun into her pocket and slammed out after Ildar, flashing a quick high sign at Zdenko as she went.

Skullfire tossed the remaining hijacker’s weapon to Zdenko, and Ezra used some of the cables he was never without to tie her up. The hijacker, wisely, kept her mouth shut. “There was nothing on the sensors until one of the engine lights started blinking. It was like they appeared out of nowhere.”


Another short one. Sorry folks, I wrote myself into a corner and family emergency is ongoing (though looking to resolve in the next week or so). Neither combat nor pantsing are my forte, put the two together and… Well, I’ll figure it out by next week. Promise.

Meadowsweet (S1 E7)

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.

Moira hadn’t confronted the captain. Her first reaction to learning he’d been isolating her had been to storm out of Skullfire’s rooms and scream at him. Her second had been to burst into tears. Having sex with Skullfire (and sharing many orgasms — once the worst of her heat had passed the alien had insisted on reciprocating) had been a distant third. It had, however, been the right one. Endorphins, Moira thought with a small sigh of memory, were wonderful. Nature’s best invention. Even better than sugars and caffeine.

Now, a day later, Moira had set herself up smack in the middle of the crew’s common room. She was done hiding in Zdenko’s bedroom and stalking the crew through surveillance systems. It was time to force the issue. Her way.

Besides, her case study on the social dynamics of a free trader was drafted, and she’s sent it out for peer review at their last planetfall. Given what she was ‘earning’, she’d have another two years stuck on the Meadowsweet. With planet falls (and access to a new library) every few weeks, it was time for that cultural survey she’d been contemplating the last few years.

She smiled at the thought as Efe popped out of her room. Moira’s smile grew wider as the woman stopped, blinked at Moira, and slunk across the common room to the head.

Each of the crew had responded differently to her staking out the common area. Efe with embarrassed awkwardness that was almost cute. The captain with silent glowers. Skullfire had given Moira a smile the first time she’d seen her there and otherwise went about her business apparently unnoticing. Ezra… poor Ezra was having trouble with Zdenko’s edicts. Every time he saw her, he started to say something, caught himself, flushed (with anger, she thought), and stomped out of the room.

Ildar was the only one to actually use the common room with her there. He’d walk in, give her a brief nod, and go do whatever.

Unknown to Moira, with her no longer stalking the security cams, the crew could talk openly about her and were. Well, when Zdenko wasn’t in the room.

Which was how Skullfire kept Ezra from confronting Zdenko himself. Skullfire was very impressed with Moira and thought the human woman would want to handle the matter herself. Skullfire was able to point to Moira’s sudden siege of the common room as evidence that Moira had her own ideas and they should let her handle it.

Skullfire’s counsel lasted a week. After that Ezra, was out of patience. But he did take to heart part of Skullfire said.

Moira was, once again, in the common room, doing a quick skim of a paper on the function of the Tyrelean government. Ezra stepped into the room from the galley, did what had become his usual open mouth, close mouth, flush, turn… then he stopped and turned back.

It took Moira a moment to notice the change. When she did, she dropped her data unit and raised her eyebrows at him.

“Look, I don’t know… I mean…” he stopped and shook himself. “Do you have some kind of plan here?”

“Plan?”

“I would have bitched Zdenko out myself by now, but Skullfire said not to fuck with whatever you’re up to. So… do you have a plan? Or do you need any help?”

“Oh. No, I don’t have a plan. Not yet anyway, I’m doing research.”

“Research?” Ezra took a step closer to her, curious. “What kind of research?”

“A bit of psychology, a bit of sociology.”

“So… mental stuff?”

“You could say that.” She grinned at him. “Congratulations, by the way. You’re the first of my subjects to grow a pair of balls.”

“The first of your…” He blinked at her, blinked again, and burst out laughing. “You mean you’re waiting to see how long you can take over the common room before we start telling Zdenko to go fuck himself.”

“Well, I wouldn’t put it that way…”

“Nope, you’d drape in some scientific gabble, just to drive it home that we’re being a bunch of idiots. Right?”

This time she flushed a little bit and shrugged.

“So,” he said, finally crossing the small room and sprawling on one of the lounge chairs. “Ildar’s hanging out in here doesn’t count as growing a pair?”

“He used a different avoidance tactic than the rest of you, but pretending I don’t exist beyond the barest courtesy is not exactly challenging Zdenko’s pile of shit.”

“Oh.”

Ezra didn’t know what to say to that. But he didn’t want to just… walk away again. Finally, just as Moira was picking up her data unit again, he blurted out, “You like fish? I finally got my fish tank set up proper.”

Moira blinked. “Is that like asking me if I wanted to see your etchings?”

“Huh?”

“Old, old joke.” She shook her head. “What kind of fish do you keep?”

Ezra didn’t stay long, not because he was avoiding Zdenko, but he did have work to do. When he left, Moira had to bit her lip to keep from crying. While she had enjoyed, reveled in, the true intimacy Skullfire had offered, she had known it was a one-time thing, a biological imperative, and not a reflection of anything between them. Ezra offered her something infinity more precious — not a single night of sex, however enjoyable, but his friendship.

She looked forward to learning more about his fish — literally and euphemistically.

Meadowsweet, S1 E6

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.

Ezra and Skullfire were not happy. Skullfire being Skullfire, no one, not even Ezra knew she was unhappy. But she wasn’t.

And though they didn’t know it, they were unhappy for the same reason.

Moira.

None of the crew had been happy with Zdenko’s ‘keep your distance’ policy with his girls. But the other three hadn’t wanted anything to do with the crew, so Zdenko’s foolishness hadn’t had any major consequences. Moira wanted to be part of the crew. From the beginning, she had put herself forward, claiming space on the ship and a role in the crew. Instead of just staying out of her space, the crew had been forced to actively avoid her.

Ildar had resorted to an old cipher system to let the others know that she’d gone as far as to hack the security system to observe them. They’d quietly agreed not to tell Zdenko or plug her hack.

In other circumstances, Skullfire would probably have kept her silence until after Ezra exploded. But as it happened, she was coming into her own heat cycle. She could have taken care of it in port, but the timing was too convenient. Zdenko decided right before they made port that Moira had healed enough from his initial attentions to allow others to request time with her.

Skullfire kept silent until after liftoff, then simply told Zdenko that she was going into her yearly heat and would like a shift with ‘the girl.’

Zdenko groused at her about not taking care of it on planet but agreed.

Moira was surprised and a bit… concerned? She wasn’t sure if that was the right word, but definitely not happy when Zdenko called her only to send her off with Skullfire. Still, she knew she didn’t have a choice, so she made an effort to be gracious.

Skullfire’s cabin was disorienting — the light was orange and reflected strangely off the furnishings and decorations. Moira stopped just inside the room and blinked a few times. Skullfire took her hand to guide her into the room. “Close your eyes. Your vision is too different from mine to be comfortable here.”

Moira obeyed and Skullfire wrapped a scarf around her eyes, blindfolding her.

“My genitals are much like yours. Will you be comfortable attending me? If not I can wait until next landfall, but it will be… difficult for me.”

“You’re giving me a choice?”

Skullfire led Moira to the large cupped cushion that served her as a bed. “I wished to speak with you away from prying ears. I have not previously made use of Zdenko’s girls, and would not have asked for you otherwise. I do not lightly subject a human to my preferred environment.”

“You wanted to… speak with me? I thought you all–”

Skullfire patted her hand. “You were supposed to. Zdenko has a great concern for your wellbeing and some… odd notions. Apparently, some humans suffer from a… Stockhell syndrome, I think he calls it.”

“Stockholm syndrome.” Moira rubbed her forehead and wished for something to bang her head against.

“You know it. He wished you to be able to leave freely when your time here is done, not to be tied to him or us by a… it is a mental illness?”

“Something like that…” Moira sighed. Every few generations for nearly a thousand years, some ‘genius’ dug up that old story to make a new award-winning viseo or other media. Moira had always thought it was annoying but harmless. “It’s a survival mechanism, really. And it isn’t anything like you see in the stories.

“So… the captain wants you to keep your distance because he thinks if you are friendly with me I’ll develop Stolkholm, am I understanding this right?”

“Yes.”

“And if it wasn’t for his… for him, I wouldn’t have been isolated and alone the however many weeks?”

“Yes. Certainly, we would not have been avoiding the common area — for all I have worked to make this room comfortable for me, I am no more fond than most humans of seeing only the same four walls.”

“I’m so pissed right now.”

Skullfire patted her hand again, trying to ignore the shudder that rolled through her.

“Are you okay?”

“It is only the heat cycle.”

“Oh…” Moira licked her lips. “That’s quite a topic change.”

“You do not have to–”

Moira managed to move to her knees and leaned against Skullfire, pushing her back down on the bed. “I remember.” With her eyes covered, she had to rely on her hands. Skullfire’s tank top and cargo pants were familiar enough, however. “But under the circumstances, I’m finding someone asking what I want to be incredibly sexy.” Moira was delighted to find that the rough fur of her arms and back turned to soft down on her breasts and stomach before disappearing lower down. She sighed with happiness at the feel of familiar curves and folds. Skullfire moaned at the lightest touch and Moira grinned. “And I’m kind of desperate to play with something that is not a cock, you know?”

“Well,” Skullfire murmured, “Don’t let me stop you then.”

Moira didn’t. With gentle fingers, she explored and discovered. Two sets of labia, the inner long and full. A nub where they met that Skullfire warned her away from. The inner channel, slick with moisture that eagerly swallowed three of her fingers — rough and smooth by turns with areas that the merest brush made the alien thrash and moan. “What is it you need, your heat?”

“Orgasms.” Skullfire moaned again and her channel clenched on Moira’s fingers. “Lots of orgasms.”

“That, I can do.” Moira slowly pumped her fingers in and out, pressing up against one of those sensitive zones as she did so. Using her other hand to guide her she leaned down and licked the top of Skullfire’s slit, then opened her mouth wider and sucked on the inner labia. Skullfire’s taste was different from a human’s, salt and tart. Moira loved it, lapped it up, hunted more of it through the crevices. Soon Skullfire was panting, her moans growing into cries and her hips pulsing in time with Moira’s hand. She shivered and was still, gasping for breath.

Moira sat back and licked her lips, wishing she could see Skullfire’s face. “That’s one.”

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.”

“Ouch.”

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.”