Two Months In Space


By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM
Artwork (c) 2003 by Mike D.

Illustration of 'Two Months in Space'

"So what are we now, a taxi service?" Ensign Comerer griped. "We ought to be getting back to our mission!"

"The T'Par'A are our mission." Captain McGeal pointed out. "The Planetary Union needs a source of trans-uranic elements and the T'Par'A homeworld is not only rich in the trans-uranics, but also has a breathable atmosphere and a tolerable surface gravity. Diplomatic relations will advance the interests of the Union in this sector, and we're going to darned well transport their ambassador!"

"Well...don't expect me to mop up after him." Comerer muttered. Then he grinned, his blue eyes slid over to Commander Markhat. "It takes a higher rank than ensign to be in such close contact to an ambassador, after all."

Commander Markhat turned a startled dark face toward Comerer. "I'm not sponging up his slime trail, either."

"They don't leave slime trails." Captain McGeal pointed out unnecessarily. "They're cohesive gelatinous beings that move on millions of tiny cilia all over the lower half of their body. The only time they resort to fluid attachments is when they have to climb up on top of things higher than their cilia can reach."

"Can we convince him not to jump up on the furniture?" Ensign Comerer mumbled. Had their ship had more than a three-man crew, Captain McGeal might have considered disciplining him more. As it was, he pretty much had to put up with a lot of shit most officers wouldn't.

Commander Markhat snickered. "Dog-training is definitely ensign's work."

There came a wet splatting sound at the door, a pseudopod reaching for the opening button. "All right, everyone on best behavior." warned Captain McGeal.

The T'Par'A slid into the room. He didn't ooze, exactly, but his body moved in a very liquid way, throwing out pods that it retracted into itself as it moved forward. The internal organs were somewhat visible inside the integument, and they moved around in there, randomly. That took a good deal of getting used to, it was like having a pool of noxious fluid on the floor, covering some four to five square feet of space.

And the odor, oh, God, the smell! Bad enough on the planet, with howling winds carrying the smell away from you, but here aboard ship with its recycled air, the odor was getting worse and worse and worse! And they still had nearly two months left to get back to Earth!

"I have completed my estivation period." the ambassador informed Captain McGeal. "I shall now be active for the next two weeks and require additional space and nutrition during this period." None of this was in sound, the T'Par'A were telepathic, though thankfully their ability to read coherent thoughts (as opposed to emotional states and such) were limited to those thoughts strong enough that they were put into actual words, or may as well have been. Your own private thoughts were fuzzy, jumbled things to a T'Par'A, and their own communications were translated by your brain into sounds that had never traveled through the air (after all, wasn't all sound when understood actually electrical impulses inside the brain? The brain wasn't fussy about where those impulses came from.)

"Good thing we have all this extra room." Ensign Comerer muttered.

"Ensign." Captain McGeal warned him with that one word. To the ambassador, he said, "There will be no burden to our systems, this ship is rated for six humans, and there are only the four of us on board. Extra capacity is standard on all Union starships."

"I am grateful." the ambassador said. "If there is anything I can do to ease your discomfort during the trip, please do let me know."

"We will be certain to do so." Captain McGeal assured the gelatinous blob of goo on his control room floor, which acknowledged the courtesy and began to reach back the way it had come.

"Please, if I can help, let me know." the ambassador repeated. "It is the nature of our people to cooperate in all things; if I can be of any help aboard the ship, I wish to do so."

"Our problem is really the opposite." Captain McGeal said. "Now we're on course, the ship pretty much flies itself. We all will have very little to do for the rest of the trip. I fear you will be left to your own resources until we arrive; I did suggest you pack things such as hobby materials or entertainment."

"I have done so. In that case, I shall avail myself of my supplies. Do let me know if I can help you in any way."

"We shall."

Comerer waited until the ambassador left and the door was closed. "A shower now and then would be nice. I think I'll stuff my nose full of cotton from now on."

Captain McGeal had to sympathize with his crewmen at this moment, the stench was still rank in the air. "That's your choice. Just keep telling yourself, it's only for a couple of months." He squirmed, and said, "If we're on course, let's lock down the controls and relax. Markhat, you're on first watch, I'll take second, and Comerer, you can have the third."

He went back to his own room and once inside, found himself rubbing his crotch. The age-old way of a man alone to kill time, beating his meat. Sometimes he wished he could marry someone in the Union Space Navy, the USN had no objections to married couples sharing a ship. As it was, time to take matters into his own hand. He judged his degree of "space ennui" by keeping track of his masturbatory habits. This would be the second time today. Once would have been typical.

The next day, three times.

The next day, four times.

The next, five times, once, he barely managed to get into the control room bathroom and give it a few jerks before he shot his load.

He got back out of the bathroom, wiped his face with a handkerchief. Comerer looked at him with understanding. "You too, huh?" he asked.

"Yeah." Captain McGeal had been with these two too long to worry about ceremony or the dignity of his rank. "I think this life is getting to me, I'd better ask for a planetary post for a while."

"You and me, both." Comerer said. "If you'll pardon me, I have to go release some fluids in the bathroom. And between you and me, it isn't piss."

When Comerer passed by him, McGeal caught the distinct smell of semen on Comerer. Not strong, but distinct. Comerer was just coming on watch, he must have jerked off earlier and not washed up very well, or gotten some on his clothing.

Not time to mention it yet.

He waited until Comerer came out of the bathroom and properly took over the watch, then got out of there. Darned if he wasn't pitching another boner already!

Over the next sixteen hours, he spent most of it in his bed, jerking off over and over again, nine times before he had to go on watch again. God, he was really overdoing this! He hadn't done anything like this since his high school senior year! He stuffed his still-hard boner into his trousers, groaning as he felt the tingle there. Damn it, which one of his heads was in charge here?

Comerer wasn't in the lounge, the place where any officer off watch would go to eat, watch entertainments, play games, and so on. It was his traditional time to visit with Comerer, as he did with Markhat after his watch was over. He had skipped Markhat in the middle of his "off watch" period, and wondered why Markhat hadn't commed him; the tradition was that strong. Still, he had been grateful at the time for the lapse (being in the thrall of his own hand and cock), but now it did have his curiosity up. He went looking.

There were only a half-dozen rooms to check out. He skipped the ambassador's room, but opened Markhat's and Comerer's rooms, even opened his own again on the theory Comerer may have gone there. The last place was the control room, left to last because it was at the opposite end of the hall from the lounge.

Damn, his dick was throbbing! He'd never felt this completely horny before, it was less a feeling of "it'd be nice to jerk off right now" and more like, "Man, I gotta do it, now!" Like he'd been totally turned on by something or someone, like watching a porn holoscene or having someone stroke him erotically, the time when sex practically turns off your mind and you fall victim to the mating instinct that still drove animals to this very day.

He touched the panel and it bore the unmistakable slight dampness he'd come to recognize as that of the pseudopod touch of the T'Par'A ambassador. There was something about that dampness...it wasn't enough to be unpleasant, exactly, about like touching something a sweaty person had touched, the sensation of wetness and nothing more. But it was like it turned the panel into something...sensual. He was more turned on that ever, now! God, he'd have to see where Markhat and Comerer were and how they were doing, and then he'd have to scoot out and jerk off again!

The door opened and his worst fears were confirmed. Markhat and Comerer were in the control room, lying on the middle of the floor, their pants around their boottops at mid-calf, and they were sucking each other cocks! The T'Par'A ambassador was watching them from a position on one of the consoles.

"Markhat!" Captain McGeal snapped out, swallowed hard. Shit, he wanted to go join them! "Comerer!" That was only a croak.

Comerer let go of Markhat's thick black dong with a loud pop as it sprang out of his mouth, and looked over. "Captain?" he gasped out. "Sir!"

McGeal was rubbing his crotch, knew he was doing it, and couldn't stop! "What do you...two think you're...doing?" he moaned out.

"Can't stop!" Comerer groaned. "Sorry, sir! Uhhhh!" and he dove back down onto Markhat's cock, trying to shove the entire thing into his mouth and throat.

McGeal watched him do that and part of him gave up. He fished into his pants, took out his cock and began to pump it. "Markhat!" he gasped out.

Markhat didn't answer.

"Markhat!"

Markhat looked at him from between Comerer's ass cheeks, and his eyes said volumes.

He couldn't stop if he wanted to.

McGeal walked toward them, stiff-legged, his hand still working his cock. He reached the two writhing crewmen and knelt beside them, his free hand reaching for them and not sure yet what he was reaching to do.

What he did was take hold of Markhat's cock and yank it out of Comerer's mouth. Comerer looked up at him again, his blue eyes glazed, his blond hair rucked up along one side of his head, and he started to say something, then those eyes fell upon McGeal's cock still being pumped by his hand, and Comerer moaned deep inside his throat and his head darted at McGeal's cock.

Before McGeal could protest, before his befuddled mind could think of any such thing, Comerer's mouth was on his cockhead, and that was all of it. The fluidity of those moist lips drove the last dregs of sense out of his mind, and he was in blind rut. He had hold of a hard cock and his mouth drooled even as he lowered his head down onto it. The taste of Markhat's cock, all slicked up by Comerer's spit, was electric upon his tongue, and his cock was screaming passion at his brain as Comerer took McGeal's cock away from his still-flailing hand and began to cram his captain's prick down his throat.

The closed embrace of the 69 position moved into a triangle, and there ensued an unending bliss of sexual motion, McGeal's entire universe was that of sucking cock, having his cock sucked, the two sensations blending so that he wasn't quite sure where his fellow crewmen started in and he left off. It was like he'd been doing this forever.

Markhat reached climax, McGeal felt the dark cock heat in his mouth and a part inside of him shuddered, but he didn't, he couldn't, let go. He'd never tasted come before, and he was about to find out first-hand.

The searing hot cock suddenly sprayed in his mouth, like a water pistol squirting water when he played at war as a kid, and used the pistol to quench his own thirst. But that water was cool, delicious, this was hot, hot and salty...and just as satisfying. Hot man juice filling his mouth, splashing his tonsils, the shudderingly intense musky flavor of hot jizz, and he'd never tasted anything like it, anything so wonderfully intoxicating in his life!

He gulped at the steaming liquid and felt it course down his esophagus and into his stomach, Markhat was thrashing, those lithe hips ramming the long cock into him as the come poured out of it and into him.

And Markhat was still, and his cock, still hard, lay at least quiescent in his mouth. McGeal sucked on it as if it were a peppermint stick, relishing the flavor of it.

Comerer began to groan around McGeal's cock and McGeal let go of Markhat long enough to look down, see that handsome brown face wrapped around the so-white prong, nursing it with rich lips and a startlingly pink tongue that lapped around as he moved back and forth.

And Comerer's humming around his cock was turning McGeal on intensely, he had been jerking off too long, the months of the trip to T'Par'A, the months they had spent on the planet, and he'd been jerking off, while his fantasies faded to worn-out things, incapable of energizing his cock. That made the intensity of his feelings here the more baffling. A man had to feed his desires with fantasy, if not the reality, if not both, to get and maintain an erection, to reach orgasm, why were these sensations coming to him.

If not from outside? As much as his sex-dazzled mind let him, McGeal considered it. Whether the ambassador knew or not, whether this was due to the telepathic nature of the T'Par'A, or just the all-pervasive odor they gave off.

Comerer groaned and blasted, McGeal watched as Markhat held on, but still a drizzle of come oozed around those dark lips, down the pale shaft and onto the ballsac dusted with blond hairs.

McGeal looked at that pearl-colored blob and shut his eyes and moaned, his own climax struck him like a sledge-hammer, Comerer's groans of joy were strangled off as his captain's jizz flooded his mouth, he choked and strangled, but he held on and the ensign's mouth never left his prick for a moment.

McGeal shuddered through his orgasm, and spent, found Markhat's cock hardening in his mouth, Markhat began to hump into his captain's non-moving mouth, fucking his exhausted superior's face, and McGeal found his own dong hardening again.

He had to act! Tearing himself away from this sexual triad was one of the hardest things he'd ever done, but this was as good as he was going to get. He got up, fumbling his trousers shut, covering his throbbing, screaming pud, wincing as he felt the mere touch of the material was enough to excite it the further.

"May I be of assistance, Captain?" the ambassador asked him.

"Not just now." McGeal said to him.

"This is a most interesting method of interaction." the ambassador said as McGeal stumbled toward the door. "May I ask what the intent of this ritual is? We have nothing like it on our own world."

"Explain later." McGeal gasped out and got out of there. If it was telepathic, then he and his crew were helpless. But he could block the odor!

Near the airlock was a locker filled with a variety of breathing apparatuses, ready for any kind of atmosphere. One of these was meant for atmospheres that didn't contain enough oxygen but were otherwise harmless. A plastic cup over his nose and mouth, and he took breaths. Right now, he felt as horny as ever!

His only hope now was to wait and see what would happen. Groaning, he opened his fly and began to pump his cock once again!

"I'm sorry, Captain, but that isn't going to work." the ambassador said to him.

"Huh?"

"It's true that the pheremones were necessary for introducing your minds into the proper state, it is no longer required."

"So you did this on purpose?" Captain McGeal asked incredulously. "Why?"

"It is necessary for our propogation upon Earth." the ambassador said. "We cannot let your people learn our nature until we have had a chance to establish ourselves. I have learned how to fly your ship, enough to land it."

"But...but the sexual impulses...." Captain McGeal said to himself, and to the alien up in the control room.

"A side-effect of my explorations of your mind." the ambassador said. "And I have no need to kill you, merely to control you until I can escape into your world."

"But...but there's only one of you." McGeal sputtered. "What can you hope to accomplish all by yourself?"

"I shall consume, and grow, and divide." the ambassador said. "A few years will suffice for me to be numerous enough that no actions by your people will dislodge us. I suspect that I will wish to begin in one of your jungle areas, food will be plentiful and your own control over those areas is tenuous."

McGeal couldn't deny that, they'd been nature preserves for nearly a thousand years. "What about us? That's our homeworld!"

"You needn't fear for your own people, we will share your world with you so far as we are able. And you are welcome to colonize our planet yourself so far as you wish."

Do what? Destroy his ship? That wouldn't prevent another expedition from setting out for T'Par'A, ships were lost in space and no ship could communicate with Earth until it was very close.

By then, the ambassador may well be in total control of him and his men.

He could kill the ambassador...maybe. But that would be a last-ditch thing for him. Their job was to explore, contact, develop...not start a war.

And the ambassador hadn't really harmed them. He wasn't declaring war on Earth, just planning to establish a colony without permission. Earth might not mind them coming...once the T'Par'A were understood and the possibility of ecological damage evaluated.

What he had to do was stop the ambassador's telepathic control of them!

But how do you stop something like that! The T'Par'A themselves couldn't stop their own telepathy! They lived, grew up, in an environment filled with the thoughts of their people. The ambassador himself had said...that was it!

He finished masturbating, spurting his jism onto the steel deck and sagged back against the wall. Better move fast before he had to shoot his wad again!

The infirmary was nearby, he loaded a hypodermic gun and went to the control room. There, Markhat was sitting at the control panel, the ambassador right in front of him. Ensign Comerer was on his lap and the bobbing of his body meant that he was fucking himself on Markhat's cock.

"You will not succeed." the ambassador said. "My control over your bodies is now quite complete."

McGeal looked at Markhat and Comerer and saw that they were insensible. Mere fucking machines.

"I know that." McGeal said. "In fact, it's what I'm counting on."

He shot Comerer full of the drug in his hypodermic. Comerer gasped and collapsed.

And the ambassador jerked. The words in McGeal's mind were shaky. "What have you done?"

"Knocked him out." McGeal said. "I figure if you're really hooked into us, having us knocked out is going to knock you out. And with that dose, Comerer is out for over a day, maybe longer, and he'll be groggy for two or three more. This is powerful stuff."

He raised the hypodermic. "Even if I have to dose all three of us, I will. I can keep us all down. And while you may know how to fly this ship, you can't sit at three controls at once. You need us to land this ship. And I'll be damned sure all three of us are down when we get close to Earth. Ships have headed toward Earth before without someone at the controls. Procedure is to board and divert it into orbit, not let it get down."

Just to prove his point, he shot Markhat full of the drug. Markhat fell down and the ambassador was definitely dazed. Telepathic communication of a drug's effects, the ambassador was about to faint!

"What happens...what happens if...I permit myself...to be isolated?" the ambassador said.

"The Union will consider your request to colonize Earth." McGeal said. Damn, he was getting horny again! He took out his cock. "Meanwhile, can you get out of our minds enough so we can stop screwing ourselves silly?"

"I...I cannot." the T'Par'A said, and there was a frightened wail in its voice. "I would not have come to your ship had I not known I could do this, enter into your minds! Don't you understand that I need this! I can't be alo-o-o-o-one!"

"Let's get you into your quarters." McGeal said. "Right after I squirt one more load, I'll go and be sure you're in there, and lock you in. After that...well, we'll see about after that."

And he began to whomp his pud.

He gave Comerer and Markhat the antidote. He had to, he needed more than his hand on his prick. While Comerer and Markhat sucked each other, he fucked Markhat's brown ass and told them their dilemma.

"Soon as we get in range, we radio Earth and throw the ship into an orbit." he concluded. "They can bring someone in and take away the ambassador. It takes the pheremones to initiate the mental bond he's gotten us into, but they can find volunteers to bond with the ambassador while they study the problem." Shit, this ass felt as good as any pussy he'd ever fucked! He was getting damned used to this, fast!

"What do you want to do, sir?" Comerer said.

"It's only two months." McGeal said. "The ambassador can scale down his mental connection, enough to let us not fuck non-stop. A few times a day will be enough...after the effects diminish, the ambassador says that will take a week or two."

Markhat let go of Comerer's cock with a slurp. "You mean we're going to be sucking and fucking all the time for another week?"

"Afraid so. What do you think about that?"

"Fine with me." Markhat said. "Been wishing I had a reason to get you two into bed ever since I was signed aboard this ship."

McGeal sped up his fucking of Markhat's ass in gratitude. "And you, Comerer?"

"Sounds like a great way to waste time two months in space." Comerer chimed in. "What do you think, Captain?"

"Count me in." McGeal agreed.

And after those two months in space...Maybe they could be the volunteers who kept the T'Par'A Ambassador happy while the Union Congress decided what to do about him!

THE END

Comments? Complaints? Suggestions?
E-Mail me at Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM


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