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.
Zdenko wasn’t a fool. He knew what his crew was doing. What he wasn’t sure of was what to do about it.
He’d made the rules clear from day one. His girls needed to be able to walk off this ship free in all ways — including free of attachment to them. His other girls had shown no interest in spending time with him or the crew anyway. They kept their heads down, did what they were told, and got out as soon as they could.
And that was why he was stumped. Because it wasn’t the crew who were seeking out Moira, she was pushing herself on them. Not that they — Ezra and Skullfire especially, but Ildar too in his quiet way — weren’t enjoying her company. What was he supposed to do, confine her to his rooms? That was exactly the kind of asshole move he’d always tried to avoid. Order the crew to avoid her when she had herself planted in the middle of the common room?
So he’d been avoiding her. A week now without release, and the damn parasite wasn’t going to let him go much longer. He was walking around with a constant hard-on — literally — and his hand wasn’t doing it. Something about the parasite demanded a partner, the scent and feel, and perhaps most importantly fluids of another person. Why? Who the hell knew?
It wasn’t the worst he’d dealt with — hell, he usually went months between girls because he was too stubborn for his own good. But it was different with Moira right there, her scent in his room and all over his bed. He needed to talk with her, to figure out what the hell she was doing and how he could keep her from making a big damn mistake.
Should be easy, right? She was his slave and hadn’t once disobeyed him.
Yeah, right. She was obedient to a fault and still kept managing to get her own way. That was the whole reason he was avoiding her, after all.
Moira was surprised Zdenko hadn’t confronted her. Ezra and Skullfire were equally surprised he hadn’t yet cornered them. Ildar and Efe were still keeping their heads down but were starting to open up. Efe had even brought Moira a cup of tea and a warm brownie the other day. Moira wouldn’t have thought the second officer the type to be shy. Maybe she wasn’t one to talk if she didn’t need to.
Efe was actually curled up on the other side of the couch watching a vid when Moira found the answer she’d been looking for. “Ahh–!” She clamped a hand over her mouth a moment too late. “I can’t believe it,” she made herself whisper. “I can’t believe it. But it fits. It fits everything…”
Zdenko had been a puzzle to Moira since she met him. Sexual slavery wasn’t exactly unusual, and she knew most common personality types for people who bought sex slaves. Zdenko didn’t match any of them. Even stranger, she’d often noticed that he didn’t seem to enjoy the sex. Approached it as an obligation, even. Something he did because he had to, regardless of what he actually wanted. But here, when she wasn’t looking for it, buried in the ship’s log from nearly ten years ago was an unexpected clue.
Shortly after Zdenko purchased the Meadowsweet, he and the then-crew (only Skullfire was still with him from that trip, and she had a few guesses why) had landed on Verda.
Verda infection was nearly as mythic as Stolkholm, a legend within the psych and sociology fields that just happened to really exist. The parasite was one of the rare infections able to cross the blood/brain barrier and infect the brain. Moira wasn’t a neurologist, though any student of the human psyche needed to know at least a bit about the brain. The insula she recognized as being involved in sexual desire. Some of the other brain regions the parasite affected not so much. Regardless of the mechanics, what it did was well known — create an unending drive to have sex.
People — especially moralizing people — had been talking about and worried about ‘sex addiction’ since before Earth was destroyed. The Verda parasite created /actual/ sex addiction. A need for sex that got worse the longer it was denied. Stories of infected people fucking themselves to death were urban legends, but people had certainly caused harm under the parasite’s influence. As the captain had down when he’d fucked them both raw during her first few weeks on the Meadowsweet. A response to… how long without release? She didn’t think he’d ever said.
And he’d been avoiding her ever since she took her stand in the common area.
Moira sighed and closed up her datapad. Zdenko tried to be a hard-ass. Well, he was a hard-ass with everyone else. With her (and, she suspected his other ‘girls’), it was more of a bluff. Something — guilt she was betting — turned his stone to sand as soon as the parasite stopped riding him.
She waved to Efe, who smiled then went back to her vid. Then Moira strode into the captain’s rooms. “Zdenko.” She had, almost from the moment she found her feet on the Meadowsweet, been thinking of herself more as a high-priced sex worker than a slave. Time to clock in, that much-needed argument with her ‘client’ could wait.
“Zdenko.”
He started at his name. Zdenko could count on one hand the number of times Moira had called him by his name rather than ‘captain.’
She didn’t give him long to wonder about it, walking right up to him, grabbing the collar of his shirt, and pulling him in for a bruising kiss. He was stunned and confused, so full of need he responded immediately anyway.
After an eternity, she broke the kiss and stepped back — still holding his shirt. She pulled him to his feet and started dragging him to his bed. He wanted to stop her, to ask what was going on. But he needed too much, and she wasn’t given him a moment to think, to get control of himself. She twisted until he was in front of her, then pushed him down on the bed and climbed on top of him.
He found enough brain cells still under his control to say, “Moira, what…” then ran out of words as she bent over him and kissed him again.
This kiss was shorter. When she pulled away, Moira said, “You make a shitty slave owner, you know that? But I’m starting to think under all that bluff, you might be a halfway decent man. Now get your clothes off because I’m not in the mood to do it for you.”
She slid over to lie next to him. He immediately started working his pants off — probably proving her point. But hell, ‘shitty slave owner’ wasn’t exactly an insult when you came down to it.
Moira was already naked, of course, and used her hands and mouth to distract him and slow him down. He groaned as she slipped her hand under his briefs and began fondling him. “Fuck, girl…”
“That is the idea, yes.”
He was supposed to be angry with her. And this was too good to be true, that she sought him out, wanted him… she wasn’t ever supposed to want him…
But she had his briefs out of the way now, and her tongue was flicking his slit, and he couldn’t think, couldn’t remember why, didn’t care, as long as she didn’t stop.
She did, eventually. But by then, he was too worn out to complain about anything.
One of the fun things about writing stories is how they don’t always stay on track. One of the fun and frustrating things about serials is how they go off track and I need to fix it on the fly because y’all are waiting for the next installment.
This started as a Master/slave M/f and I expected it to stay that way for at least the first season or two. Moira (as usual) had her own ideas.
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