Seven Maids a'milking
By
Aahlu.
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The last time I saw Star Captain Dan Grey he was sitting stone dead in his chair on the flight deck. So stiff and so dead that he might have been carved out of yellow wax, so stiff we couldn’t make his eyelids close to stop his dead eyes staring at us and to wipe the dirty look off his face.
“Heart attack! The MO said brusquely. He ticked a couple of boxes on the clipboard he carried before turning away.
“Brought on by excessive wanking no doubt!” someone rudely suggested when the noticed the Captain still had his tool in is hand.
We left him there for a week while the ship ran on it’s course perfectly. So perfectly that some people began to question what exactly deadweights like Captain Dan Grey were for on a cruise liner anyway.
“To fuck the rich old dears who have come on the voyage without their husbands” another wag suggested rudely. Maybe it was but nobody bothered to find out one way or the other, so we just left him there, staring, literally into space through the portside window, which was a bit unnerving if you happened to go round that way and catch his eye.
So in the end one of the orderlies shoved a pillowcase over his head and another one over the dead giveaway in his lap, unceremoniously for there is no respect for the dead out here in space. We left him there, not really in our way, not even really noticed after a while, for the first month anyway. After that I must admit he did begin to stink.
Until eventually, as the ship’s official religious minister it fell to me to arrange a burial service for the old man.
It was the starliner ‘Noname’ we were on at the time this story got wrote, if you’ll pardon the grammar, the Noname, a Pasadena type fast cruise ship out of Lunabase Five, the most luxurious combined passenger and freight liner ever built of her class, the one indeed about which is said, seven maids a milking worked overtime to pay for the upkeep of. And that was the theme of her main gallery, that part of the ship where the richest and I have to say most corrupt of the fare paying passengers congregated, a theme which ran, in luridly naked detail all around the wall of that chamber, the figures cast in living plastic were almost twice life size.
You may have seen pictures of them somewhere, of those maids I mean, for they are quite famous. You haven’t? Oh well…… Well if you like we’ll get some stuff about them up on the viewing screen.
Right, right, OK! Look, that one, the little one, she is called Li’l Mary and the one next to her, they say is her sister. She is called Li’l Sue. Then the two sticking their tits out are called April and June respectively and the one on her own, the odd one out if you like, she is called May. There has to be an odd one, always, in any group of seven, don’t know why. For balance maybe ‘cos if you look at April and June you’ll see what I mean. Yeah they’re the leaders of the pack alright, the instigators and perpetuators of all mans’ troubles! Oh yeah, they’re Trouble and Strife, quite naturally. It would not be milk in those pails they carried, it’d be dildoes. That’s what I said and no I don’t know how many they had between them.
Trouble and Strife then. Right at the top of it all. At the pinnacle, the peak, the top of the pile. Oh yes there’s a pecking order in everything, even in a bloody carved mural in a bloody spaceship!
………………
So, a burial service, like I said.
Oh yes, it had been the sound of a life support system alarm that woke me, the little wail of distress and panic right there by my ear. Beside me Susie groaned and shifted, a wave of us shaped air wafting when she turned irritably still half asleep in an effort to get away from the noise.
Training and one or two other things overrode the desire to stay there beside her, to stay asleep. Years of training and the fact that, as well as the alarm the rails around the bunk were new flashing red and blue and vibrating. Show me a spacer who can sleep through warning signs like those and I’ll show you a spacer who is already stone dead. Which was exactly the way I found Captain Dan Grey when I got to him, as I have said.
The alarm had been set off by Grey’s monitor spiking when he snuffed it and there was nothing wrong with any of the L.S.S’s, in case you are wondering. Nothing like a quick clicking of a half dozen or so toggles wouldn’t soon put right. Nothing a lot of swearing and shouting wouldn’t soon correct, because there is always one or two loudmouthed people who get satisfaction from doing exactly that. MacMuck the Scot was the one in this instance of course, he had to be. Poking his ginger headed troublesome nose into everything and making the most noise and bother with it.
“Where the hell were you?” He demanded aggressively, glaring at me murderously.
“Off shift and asleep!” I told him bluntly “Do you want to look at the roster?”
He grunted disbelievingly, ginger head and ginger face with vile, snotty ginger hairs sticking out of his nostrils. There is always one in every ship and he’s the one in this!
It was none of his damned business where I was or what I was doing anyway but, as I say, he’d have to go and poke his nose in where it wasn’t wanted and had no damned business being. I mean, stewards, on the flight deck? Really!! If they haven’t got a tray with drinks on it in their hand then they’ve no damned business being there. That’s all there is to it but MacMuck, with all his ginger headed aggressiveness would never see it like that.
“I heard an unanswered alarm and felt it my duty to investigate” That’s what he’d say if it ever came to the crunch.
What he really meant but would never admit was that he was, in all probability, somewhere he ought not to have been. In the storeroom next to the female shower rooms for instance with his eye glued to a spyhole if I knew anything at all about him. For obvious reasons he’d never have heard any flight deck alarm from the passenger decks.
So I glared at him and he glared at me, our dislike and distrust being mutual. He knew Susie and I were an item and he didn’t like it. I knew, for a fact that he was as disliked in the circles he moved in officially as much as he was unwelcome everywhere else. He was a dislikeable, bitterly jealous man and one who, if not watched carefully, could easily become dangerous.
He slunk off smartly when my deputy came in, knowing he was out of place and not wanting to argue a point so eventually I was able to go back to bed, back to a warmly sleeping Susie who smelled delicious and wholesome like newly baked bread.
………………
I intend to marry her one day, marry Susie that is, might have done so already except there seemed little point.
“You can have it whenever you want it anyway” Susie had told me, waggling her blue overall covered backside gaily. We’d come off shift together that time and the ten hours rest from duties we were due, came as a very welcome relief.
It’s a good feeling being close to a woman; and a woman like Susie doubly so, because as a specially designed spacewoman she is particularly shapely and petite. Now let me get this straight in your minds once and for all – Susie was a GM, not an Android, oh yes there is a difference! A great big one. Androids have plastic bones and tits made of a kind of foam rubber, for a start whereas GM’s, that is Genetically Modifieds are ordinary, extraordinary humans and then some!
I suppose in real life she’d be in her early twenties, but as a GM with a perceived age of eighteen she was perfect for the job she was designed for. And as a small eighteen, physically that is even if I say so myself, she was perfect for me. Alright so she did have a serial number tattooed on the back of her neck but it was a real neck not one made of a warm to the touch rubber and the number was little more than her blood group and a couple of other things anyway. For convenience most of us have tats like that.
Yea it’s a good feeling being close to Susie, because for me Susie is always scented and seductively sexy. She’d be a Melanesian racially I suppose although her certification listed mixed source, part Maori, part something else and part something else again. That was before you got to the GM parts, the enhancements and the strengthenings and, oh hell I tell you, I’ve never known anyone orgasm so readily or so copiously as Susie can!
She’d other virtues too of course, the ability to see in the dark and an ever updatable multi-linguistic ability. But being a GM herself her major contribution to the technical skills required of all crew members was genetics, quite naturally.
…………………
Yes, a burial service like I said.
In a ship like the Noname where no overall belief system or religious status prevailed there was a standard procedure written down for the disposal of the dead. Aside from the paperwork and all that of course. A standard procedure which was swift and pain free and simple. The body is encased in a tightly fitting plastic shroud and blown out of the rubbish chute. With the appropriate tag and label on it, naturally, for no corpse likes to drift in space anonymously.
Any words which are spoken at the time of disposal are entirely at the discretion of the crew members and the ships captain of course. Or in this instance yours truly because it was the captain himself we were burying.
So I scrawled an ode while I shagged Susie, a lewd ditty all about ships captains who screw well heeled retired ladies and captains who like to sit wanking in their own exclusive chair.
We giggled over it, knowing it was inappropriate and wouldn’t be used but reading it out loud together anyway:
There was an old captain called Grey
Who’d sit wanking in a chair all day
And when he died no-one bothered to hide
His………
Susie came delightfully and with the tiniest of sighs. She made me lick her which made my tongue sting and gave me a blood blister. She has some powerful muscles down there. We fiddled and laughed, enjoying each other, casually and unhurriedly until she wanted to cum again.
For a supposed eighteen year old her breasts are very small. Not immature, just small. Boyish even, you might say, in the very nicest of ways but the size of her nipples and the target area around them more than compensates for that.
“Should I say he was a good, thoughtful and caring captain?” I asked as she lowered herself onto me.
“Why not?” Susie said “Nobody will care either way…………”
She was a deep salmon pink colour inside and glistening moistly without, with a pattern of hair like a fern adorning her honeypot.
Her muscles squeezed………..and relaxed, she smiled, looking down at me waiting for me to reach up for her nipples.
“Yerrrrrr I……..I like feelin’ you this way!” she said.
I made myself bigger for her, fatter so as to fit tighter inside her. I know she likes it like that
“Go on!” she urged “Do it, do it ddoittt”
Her words were beginning to merge.
I followed the hedge of tiny hairs up to her navel with my eyes, caught the roundness of her hips with my hands.
“Go…onnn g…on onn!” she demanded.
Until I couldn’t help it.
Susie screeched exactly like I knew she would when I got close to half size, but she is only a little girl as I have said. I wouldn’t go any bigger in case I damaged her. I allowed myself an orgasm then, when Susie didn’t expect it but she screeched even louder when she came again, lifting her feet off the floor until she was entirely balanced on my prick.
It was the best session we’d had for several days.
………………….
We buried the captain at first light, ships time, next morning with only Susie and I at the ‘graveside’ along with the purser.
I said my words and hauled on the handle and dear captain Grey disappeared forever into the firmament.
“Will reading this afternoon!” the Purser informed us as a formality.
We nodded together.
“Ok!” I said.
I patted Susie’s bottom all the way back to our quarters – through her blue overalls of course. She took them off as soon as we got there.
“Sad old bugger” she ventured softly.
I nodded, having no feelings whatsoever for dear departed captain Grey but a great many towards Susie.
“Not much of a service either was it?” I said mournfully “With only the three of us there”
“You did you best” She assured me.
It was all I wanted to hear.
And if you are wondering what my other skill is apart from being the ‘vicar’ I’ll tell you. I’m the other GM crewmember, the one with the infinitely expandable prick.
© 290311 Aahlu.
RSVP EROTICA