Harem Ship Chronicles: Family Matters
By S.L. Hadley
Wrinkling his nose at the smell of ozone and hydraulics, Capt. James Davison wriggled his torso free of the gap in the Dionysus' floor panels. There was a small towel waiting for him in Janna's hands and he accepted it with an appreciative grunt. Wiping the grime from his face, he sighed.
"Bitch wasn't lying," he said. "The Hyperion might as well be docking lights now."
Janna made a thoughtful sound and wordlessly accepted the used towel. "Completely unusable?" she asked.
"Nearly. Military-grade regulators on every damn piece. They scuttled some of the coolant system too, just to be sure we can't fix it. Doubt we'll get more than 40 percent power now. Cheaper just to buy another."
"Because that went so well last time," Janna muttered.
James grimaced and propped himself against the bulkhead, sitting silently. He traced the spot on his arm where he'd been shot through. Though Diana's healing abilities meant he needn't worry about pain or scarring, he was certainly in no hurry to repeat the experience. In fact, he'd given Juarez Station a wide berth ever since. And since this sector of the galaxy was not exactly bursting to the seams with shady weapons dealers...
"We'll just have to make do," he said. "I'll check our inventory. Might be some way to bypass the regulators or repair the cooling. It'll take some time, but I'd wager I can get us back up to 60 percent."
Folding her arms, Janna fixed him with a look.
"You know what," she replied.
For once, James actually didn't know. He racked his brains, wondering if he'd inhaled something below decks that was clouding his thinking. Janna was upset because their weapons were underpowered? Women. There wasn't time to figure it out, so he settled for a fallback.
"Janna," he said, trying to sound reassuring. "It's going to be fine. Trust me."
For a moment, the psyker looked dumbfounded. Then she scowled and walked away without another word.
"Janna!" James called. He was actually beginning to worry. Not for the first time, he cursed his luck for not sharing Janna's supernatural empathy.
She ignored him and stiffly closed the door to the bridge behind her.
"Shit," he said. Women were too damn complicated. It was one thing to match wits with the half-alien women that filled the Dionysus' main hold. Not only had Janna been with him longer than any of them, but her abilities meant she was perpetually a half-step ahead of him. And James was not one to settle for second-place.
"Um, my lord?"
James looked up from his seat on the plasteel floor. Kitty stood timidly a few meters away, hands folded and face red. That was another source of irritation he could place squarely on the Navy. Ever since she'd publicly pissed herself staring down the barrel of a plasma rifle, the already shy Kitty had become positively invisible. Hell, he saw Miki more often.
"Yes, Kitty?" he said with a comforting smile. She struggled to return it, then glanced toward the hole in the floor paneling.
"C-can I do anything to help?" she asked. "I mean... I'm pretty good with ships. So I thought, maybe..."
James waved her closer and shifted slightly toward the gap. Kitty knelt eagerly beside him, peering into the opening. As she did so, the front of her blouse dipped low and allowed him a glimpse of her small, firm breasts. James smiled, but his gaze didn't linger. The girl's eagerness had suppressed her nervousness in a way he'd not seen in weeks, perhaps ever.
"Naval regulators," he said. His finger weaved about as he indicated the pieces of hardware. "Basically work like resistors, except for energy-based weapons. Can't be removed without mangling the directional field all to hell."
"So you can either be strong or accurate," Kitty noted. She leaned forward and her shoulders easily slipped into the gap as she examined the pieces.
James nodded, pleased. "That's right."
"What sort of field generators are they?" Kitty asked, voice muffled. She slipped forward another few inches.
"Standard high capacity," James said. He was grinning now; there was no question about Kitty knowing ships. She was piecing things together in half the time it'd taken him.
"You've got no spares?" Kitty said, incredulous. Only her hips and legs remained outside.
"Plenty of spares," he answered, almost defensively. "Problem is the Hyperion uses embedded generators. Can't swap them without weakening the coils and risking a breach every time you fire."
"Huh. Good business, bad design." She paused briefly. "Man, they really fucked the cooling!"
James shook his head in disbelief. "Kitty?"
"Where did you learn all this?"
"Can a girl keep her secrets?"
"Well, that depends. Want to be my chief engineer?"
Kitty laughed and squirmed her way back up from the hole. She gave him a mischievous grin. "Chief engineer? How many others you got?"
"Pretty sure I saw Janna change a light once."
Kitty laughed. "Do I get a raise?"
"Sorry, it's not in the budget." Leaning forward, he ran his fingers through her hair until he softly cradled her head. "We can talk about benefits, however."
Giving a playful, intrigued purr, Kitty nuzzled her cheek against James' forearm. "Don't you want to see what I can do, first?" she murmured, glancing toward the gap.
"Well, sure. I'd still like to know where you learned it, though."
Sighing a bit heavily, Kitty drew back and stared glassy-eyed at the hatch. "I picked up a few things on
Juarez," she said. "Where do you keep the spare field generators?"
"They're in the cargo hold. Starboard, midway down."
James watched silently as she strode off. It was obvious that he'd touched a nerve somehow, but he thought he'd approached the subject cautiously enough....
"Women," he muttered.
Briefly, James debated replacing the plasteel flooring until Kitty returned--last thing he needed right now was someone falling through--but decided against it. It had been damn heavy to begin with and he doubted Kitty had the strength to pry it free. Plus, it's not as though anyone but Janna frequented the bridge and she was plenty observant.
Grumbling, James began to meander toward the main hold. What he really needed was something to take his mind off things. The first person to come to mind was Shana; the drakashi was perfect for a rough screw when he needed to let out some frustration. But after a moment of debating, he concluded his back was too sore to deal with her passionate violence. Someone more low key then... Orryhena? The darkmaw could handle his aggression, sure, but she was almost too submissive. He wanted a struggle, not to abuse.
Even when he reached the main hold and silently surveyed the assembled females, no one stood out as a particularly ideal partner at the moment. It was a problem he'd not encountered in ages. Kitty would have been perfect, given his mood. Or Janna. Yet it was clear neither were in the mood for him.
James bit back a growl of frustration. If not for his damn sister and her meddling he could have been balls deep without a care in the galaxy.
Morgan, you worthless piece of--
"Ev'thing okay, m'lord?"
James forced a smile as Kentravi sidled toward him. The woman's shapely hips swayed with each step, and her face bore her usual, confident smirk.
"I'm fine, Travi," he said. Reclining against the bulkhead, he allowed his eyes to drift over her body, thoughtfully. She was topless and her large, dark breasts were crowned by stiff, chocolate-colored nipples. Her lower half was contained, barely, within a simple pair of light grey trousers that rested far below the ridges of her hipbones.
However, at this moment, it was not exactly her body that interested him.
"M'lord want some company?"
"Perhaps," James said, shrugging. He nodded toward the door to his quarters. "I'd like to run something by you, first."
"Hmmm," Kentravi murmured, grinning. "Like the sound o' that."
James did nothing to further her anticipation, but instead turned and marched toward his quarters. The patter of Kentravi's bare feet trotting eagerly after him made him smile slightly--as did the jealous stares cast toward them by the other members of his harem. He opened the door, then stepped aside to allow Kentravi to enter first. By the time he'd stepped inside after her and sealed it, she had already placed herself on the edge of his bed.
"S'on your mind, James?" she asked.
James eyed her sternly. "I'll tell you in a moment. First, I want your promise that what we discuss will not leave my quarters."
Kentravi cocked an eyebrow, but gave no other outward sign of intrigue.
"Course," she said.
"How does your shifting work? What sort of limits does it have?"
Fixing him with a curious smile, Kentravi's eyes twinkled. "Two years I been wit' you, James. Only just now askin' the hard stuff?"
"Never needed to know until now," he grumbled. "It came in handy, so I didn't question it."
"One way of puttin' it," Kentravi teased, giving her breasts the faintest shake. "You got someone in mind?"
"Hmm..." Kentravi said. "But you dun wanna just say'er name, huh? Gotta be famous or 'barrassing, then."
Well, right so far.
Kentravi's eyes narrowed. "S'not a man, is it?"
James let out a soft laugh and shook his head.
"Then who? Secret's safe wit' me."
Kentravi's eyes went wide and she immediately clapped both hands over her mouth. A flurry of emotions washed through her face and she seemed to have difficulty settling on one. Eventually, she adopted a sort of nervously delighted smirk and rubbed her hands contemplatively.
"Keepin' it in the family, huh? Can't say I blame ya; I wouldn't mind teachin' her a lesson m'self!"
"Travi," James warned.
"Right, right. Sorry, m'lord. Um... yes. I can probably manage. Skin'll be tricky--your sis' plenty fair--but just 'magine she gotta nice tan, y'know?"
James kept his face blank as he sifted through Kentravi's outpouring of agri-world slang. Inwardly, he was grinning from ear to ear at the thought of the wicked things he'd do to his bitch of a sister's body. It wouldn't be quite the same, knowing it was really a shifted Kentravi, but it would be enough. The only concern might be...
"Travi, you know my sister and I are on... rather poor terms?"
The shifter nodded, obviously lost in thought.
"I plan to be rough," James said.
That got her attention. Kentravi looked up and frowned slightly. "How rough?"
James shrugged. "I'm not sure," he admitted. "That's why I wanted to talk to you first. Because as much as I want to... well... I want to make sure I don't hurt you. That's more important."
Kentravi flashed him a wry smile. "So, you wanna have your sister's cake 'n eat it too?"
What the hell is that supposed to mean?
"Something like that."
Falling silent, the shifter bit her lip and intermittently nodded to herself for a moment. Eventually, she met James' gaze.
"Here's what I can do, m'lord," she said. As she grew serious, her accent faded and her words became stiff. "I'll make some extra changes when I shift. Extra elasticity in some areas, shift some nerves around, that sort of thing. It's an art, not a science, but you'll be able to go to town without really hurting me. I can holler and the like just the same, y'know?"
Something in James' gut twisted strangely at hearing Kentravi's voice change. He'd experienced it plenty of times before, but always when she'd shifted. Seeing and hearing his dark-skinned beauty speak so rigidly set him on edge, somehow. Nevertheless, the change was not enough to dampen his excitement.
"That's excellent, Travi. Really, I--"
"I got a few conditions, though."
James hesitated. "Yes?"
"I want a safeword. I trust you--you know that--but just in case."
Probably a good idea.
"Of course. I understand completely."
"Also, you gotta make it up to me later, y'know? Show me a good time."
James laughed. "I already intended to, Travi. Anything else?"
Travi took a deep breath and shifted a little. "Yes, m'lord," she said. "Um, there's no easy way to..."
"I need you to explain everything to Diana."
"What?" James frowned, folding his arms. "You understand I want to keep this a secret, yes?"
"I know that, m'lord. But if I'm injured during... while shifted, she'll need to heal me. It's not like a normal healing. And I'd like to--"
James interrupted with a wave of his hand. "Very well," he said. "I understand."
Kentravi bowed her head appreciatively.
Unfolding his arms, James nodded toward the main hold. "Let's go get her, then."
James stood outside the door to his quarters, struggling to keep the anticipation from his face as he distractedly watched his harem go about their business. Fria was arguing heatedly with Shana, the latter perched upon the former's bedding. From the look on the were-harpy's face, it was clear she had no expectation of reclaiming her belongings through the conversation.
Need to bed the drakashi soon, he mused, conflicted.
Beside him, the door hissed open. James turned, eager, but hesitated at the look Diana gave him as she stepped through. The goddess was normally the epitome of calm obedience, but her eyes were uncharacteristically alight.
"What is it?" he asked, cocking his head.
Diana gave a small shake of her head and fixed him with a stern gaze.
"What?" he repeated.
Diana glanced toward the other concubines, as if to ensure they were not listening in, then stepped closer.
"What are you doing, my lord?" she asked. Her voice, musical as ever, somehow seemed to carry a hint of disapproval.
"Isn't it obvious?" he said, elusively.
Staring, Diana stood silently.
"Speak plainly," he half-growled.
"I think Shana would be more appropriate for this manner of thing," Diana said. She folded her arms.
"The girl is rather frightened."
James looked away, gritting his teeth. "It's merely a precaution," he said. "I'll be careful."
"See that you do," Diana said, gliding away.
He watched her for a moment, then gritted his teeth and shook his head to clear it. Why was everyone being so difficult today? Taking a deep breath, he palmed open the door and stepped through. As it closed behind him, he turned and felt his chest tighten instantly.
Morgan stood in the doorway to his private washroom, clad in one of his spare uniforms. The garment was too large for her, but she'd done an admirable job shaping it to her lithe, somewhat curvy form with a wide belt. Her hair was drawn back into an efficient ponytail, with only a single, elegant lock hanging to highlight her flawlessly smooth cheek. His sister had never looked so beautiful in her life.
Only it wasn't his sister--he reminded himself after a second--merely Kentravi masterfully shifted. She'd even adopted Morgan's proud, vaguely scornful smirk. The only discrepancy was the color of her skin.
As Kentravi had warned him, there was a rich tanned hue to her cheeks. But taken all together, he had to constantly remind himself that it was his lover, not his sister, who stood in front of him.
Well, that's the point, right?
"What are you doing here, Morgan?" he growled, half-surprised at how easily the anger and resentment bubbled up inside him.
Morgan grinned wickedly and James felt his gut churn with a familiar unease. He nervously wondered for a moment if he'd perhaps taken this charade too far.
"Jamie," his sister's voice teased. "You say that like you're not glad to see me."
His nervousness evaporated in a split second, replaced with bitterness and rage. He stomped forward and took advantage of his height advantage to loom over her. One hand slipped forward and paused briefly around her neck before snaking around the back of her neck and seizing the base of her ponytail.
He yanked her head back and leaned forward until his face was inches from hers.
"Why would I be glad to see a bitch like you?" he snarled.
For a second, fear filled his sister's eyes. The expression sent a thrill down his spine.
"Jamie," she said. "I--"
"That's not my name," he spat, twisting her by the hair and pressing her against the frame of the doorway. Leaning down he pressed his face against her neck and inhaled sharply. She smelled of freshly cleaned uniform and soap. It wasn't exact, but it was close enough to make the fantasy real. He kissed her neck softly, then bit down--still light, but rough enough to leave a mark.
Morgan yelped in surprise--a sound he'd heard her make only a handful of times in his life--and one hand leapt up to push his face away. He snatched her wrist with his free hand and continued to suckle on the skin of her neck.
"Jamie! I mean, James! Stop!" she cried.
James ignored her for a few seconds, then slowly allowed her skin to slip from his mouth. He moved to her ear and pressed his lips to it.
"Better," he hissed. She shuddered as he spoke, which sent another thrill through him. "You finally remembered my name. That's good. But why should I stop?"
"B-because I'm your sister," she said, audibly scrambling. "You should listen to what I say!"
"Oh?" he said, lips still pressed to her ear. He could feel her heart pounding, even through the uniforms they each wore. Her breasts were squished against his chest, and it occurred to him that it was the first time he'd ever felt them. They'd never hugged, at least that he could remember, and any other contact between them had occurred long before his sister had matured physically.
"But you're younger than me," he added. "So that means I make the rules."
"I outrank you!" she protested.
"Really now?" James drew back, amused despite himself. "We're both Captains, if anything I hold seniority."
"Bullshit," Morgan growled, fighting against his grip on her wrist and hair. "I'm serving with distinction in the Federation Navy. You're some up-jumped Captain in the Survey Corps."
Even as his emotions flared at the insult, a tiny, rational part of James' mind was impressed beyond belief. Kentravi was doing a magnificent job; it was enough to make him suspect he'd encountered his sister before. Though, of course, that was impossible.
"You're forgetting something," he said, using his weight to press her more firmly against the doorway.
"You're on my ship, Captain," he growled. Pressing his face to hers, he lightly ran his tongue across her upper lip. Morgan grimaced, squirming to try and escape. Releasing her hair, he quickly snagged her other wrist and tucked her arms behind her on either side of the bulkhead.
"And that means my word is law."
Bending, he took her earlobe between his teeth and bit down softly, tugging. Morgan let out a cry, thrashing against his grip. James bit down much harder.
"Ah! M'lord! My--Hyperion! James, Hyperion!"
Concerned, James stepped back and let go of her wrists. Kentravi winced, reaching up to caress her ear gingerly. Shutting her eyes, she exhaled through gritted teeth. James watched her, confused.
"Travi? What is it?" he asked.
Kentravi gave a pained smile, which looked comically out of place on his sister's face. She raised a hand reassuringly.
"Sorry, m'lord," she said. "Didn't mean to startle you. Just sensitive, y'know? I moved a ton of nerves to my ears."
James let out a relieved sigh. "That's a relief. You worried me."
"Don't apologize," he said. "Anywhere else I should avoid?"
"Well," Kentravi shrugged. "My feet. And eyes. That's about it."
Giving a roguish grin, the shifter eyed him. "How I doin'?"
"Fuckin' brilliant," James admitted, grinning slightly. "I was about ready to beat the shit out of you."
"Travi," James said. He gave her a reassuring smile and reached up to cradle the side of her cheek. Doing such a thing to his sister's face was unnerving, but he forced himself to see through the transformed features to the petite, rustic woman within. "You're doing great. Truly. I can honestly forget that you're not M--my sister."
"I'm glad, m'lord."
James shook his head. "My point is, stop me if I get too intense. Not just if you're hurt. You're more important than my grudge."
Morgan's face softened tremendously, and an adoring smile started in her eyes and spread to her lips. The sight of it involuntarily sent a shiver down James' spine that made his stomach churn. This expression was a new one for him. It was the way his sister would look at someone she loved. That she loved frankly and without her characteristic manipulation.
He couldn't help but wonder if she'd ever actually looked at anyone in that way. The smiles she'd sent toward her lieutenant--Sarkolis, Sarpolis, whatever his name had been--had lacked the warmth her face now demonstrated. Had it been his own presence that drove that affection into hiding? Or was she simply so far beyond normal human emotion that such a thing was impossible for her now?
"Thank you, James," she said. "I--You're very kind."
After a moment, his sister's face hardened and she sneered. Stepping forward, she reached out and cupped the crotch of his uniform with an unimpressed expression.
"Too bad," she said with a snort. "I thought you'd be more impressive. We're related after all. I've got twice the balls you do, Captain."
James stood, unmoving, as she dismissively felt him up. The cold rage that had faded so quickly at Kentravi's safeword flared up as if it had never been interrupted. His eyes narrowed.
"Hell," Morgan said with a laugh. "My lieutenant's got twice the balls you do."
Growling, James grabbed the wrist at his crotch. She tried to yank her hand away, but he held it in place against him. Slowly, he clenched down with his much stronger grip and savored the expression of discomfort that filled his sister's features. As he began to stiffen against her fingers, she swung at him with her other hand. She landed one clumsy blow against his cheek, then he caught that wrist as well. Keeping her arms crossed at the elbows, he slowly maneuvered her backward into the corner of his quarters. Realizing that he intended to corner her, Morgan spun and twisted in his grip. She very nearly succeeded in escaping, but the strength of his grip prevailed and she merely succeeded in twisting herself up further. As a result, when they reached the corner her arms were still crossed, now pinned to her sides just above her hips.
James let out a chuckle as he pinned her against the corner with his weight. He pressed his hips against her firm backside, grinning at the expression of disgust that immediately crossed her face.
"A lot of good they did," he said. "You're in one hell of a tight spot, Morgan."
"Fuck you," she spat, though her words were muffled somewhat by the plasteel bulkhead.
James clucked his tongue. "Such insubordination," he teased. "But then, you're in the Navy. I'm sure you remember the old punishments?"
She didn't answer, but the hint of anxiety in her eyes was answer enough.
Cautiously, James released her wrists and immediately used his shoulder to keep her pinned in the corner. Scooting his hips back, he reached down and ran a hand over her backside. Even through the trousers of her borrowed uniform, he could tell his sister's ass was toned and muscular as befit a naval officer. Even so, there was just a hint of feminine plumpness to the cheeks. Though he'd never had the inclination to check, he doubted his sister truly possessed such a quality rear. However, even if it were no more than fiction on Kentravi's part, he was not sorry to make the discover. He groped her cheeks coldly, as though she were nothing more than livestock, much as she'd done to him moments earlier.
Without warning, he seized the waistband of the trousers and yanked them down. Oversized as they were, the only thing that had kept them aloft were Morgan's hips. And against his efforts, they proved no obstacle. The trousers dropped around her ankles.
Letting out a frustrated squeal, Morgan's struggling doubled. James kept her in place with minimal effort, allowing his hands to roam across her backside. The skin was soft, smooth, and tanned like the rest of her. Though she wore undergarments, the tiny, black thong failed to conceal much.
"Hmmm," James murmured, pulling at the vaguely elastic ribbon of material that descended out of sight between her cheeks. "I doubt these are considered regulation, Captain."
In another second, he'd yanked the undergarment down as well. Morgan's desperate struggles continued, though they still failed to amount to much. His fingers trailed lower, threatening to sneak between her legs, but resisted the temptation. He wanted to savor his sister's struggles, however feigned they might be on Kentravi's part. They were the reason for this charade, not what his sister hid between her legs.
Not that he wasn't interested, though.
"You're an officer," he reminded her. "Which means it wouldn't be proper to flog you in front of the men. But that doesn't mean an appropriate punishment doesn't exist."
"J-James!" Morgan growled. Her voice was filled with a mix of fury and fear.
"A dishonorable punishment... for the dishonorable part of your body, Captain."
Drawing back his hand, James brought it down in a ferocious openhanded smack delivered to the center of one cheek. Morgan let out a howl and began to writhe. Almost immediately, her ass began to redden where he'd spanked her. Twisting, she tried to shield herself from the next blow.
It was a futile effort. As much as she tried to escape, the angles of the corner ensured that one cheek was always exposed. James let her struggle for a moment, then spanked her again, even harder. Morgan shrieked, and he immediately smacked her twice more for good measure. Even with her tanned skin, it was mere seconds before her entire backside was crimson.
Eventually, it seemed to dawn on her that escape was impossible. Her struggles to escape slowed, then ceased, and she soon sagged weakly into the corner. Too proud for tears, she nevertheless sniffled occasionally, letting out yelps each time he spanked her. He continued past the point where he would have stopped on anyone else, savoring the defeated tone her weak cries soon adopted. Eventually, when he was basically holding her aloft, he lifted his weight from her back. Sluggishly, Morgan spun and immediately covered her lower half with her hands.
"Are you ready to behave?" James growled.
She refused to answer, avoiding his eyes and blinking her own rapidly to clear away a few rebellious tears.
Roughly, James grabbed her shoulder and turned her back toward the corner. At the same time, he landed a powerful smack on her already smarting rear.
Morgan yowled, twisting frantically and managing to spin back to face him. "Stop!" she pleaded. "James, please! Stop! I'll behave!"
"Good," he said. "But you don't get to call me that. Apologize."
Red-faced, Morgan bit her lip, looking lost. "I--I'm," she said, haltingly. "I'm sorry, Captain."
Reaching up, James wrapped one large hand around the side of her neck, thumb resting over her throat.
"Sir," he corrected quietly. His thumb pressed down the slightest bit.
Morgan's hands flew up to clutch at his wrist. "I'm sorry, sir," she amended.
James smiled darkly, allowing his eyes to sink down the length of her body until they settled on her now unshielded mound. A small patch of brown hair, trimmed short, surrounded her vulnerable sex. As if feeling his gaze, Morgan immediately twisted about, trying to twist her legs to hide herself once more.
"What do you know," he said. "No balls, after all."
When Morgan made no reply, he lifted his eyes sternly to hers.
"No, sir," she whispered.
"What would you call it then?"
Once more, Morgan made no reply. Growling, James reached forward and forced his hand between her legs. Indelicately, he tweaked her clit and observed with pleasure the resulting jolt that shook her from the hips down. He cupped her with his broad hand. Her pubic hair scratched at his palm as he spread her outer folds with his fingers. She was wet, though far less than a member of his harem might have been.
Kentravi, you are magnificent.
"I don't like to repeat myself," he growled. "I said, what would you call this?"
"A pussy," Morgan whispered, dropping her gaze.
The corner of James' mouth twitched upward. "Try again," he said, pressing lightly with his thumb. Morgan's hands clutched at his wrist a little more forcefully.
"A cunt." Morgan's answer was so quiet it was barely audible.
"That's right," James said. Slowly, he shifted his hand and eased the tip of one finger inside his sister's sex. He barely managed past the first knuckle before her body clenched down on him so tightly he could barely believe it. Her fingers on his wrist were like claws.
"And what is it good for?" he added.
Morgan lunged. Her hands pried his hand from her neck and she launched herself at him. The action drove his finger deep up inside her, but she seemed not to notice as she grabbed for his face. Her fists pummeled the crown of his head even as her legs snarled around his, threatening to take them both to the ground. James caught her upper arm with one hand, but the other managed to strike him a half-dozen times before he collected himself enough to defend. Clutching her beneath both shoulders, he heaved her away, and she landed hard on the edge of his bed. Looking dazed, Morgan stared up at him, legs splayed.
With a scowl, James stalked toward her, unfastening his belt.
"If you don't know the answer," he said. "Just admit it."
"Bastard," Morgan spat, scrambling back away from him.
James felt himself growing hard and quickened his advance. But then he paused.
Detecting his hesitation, Kentravi broke character for the briefest moment. She grinned, nodding slightly. Then, her purpose complete, she adopted her nervous scowl once more.
James grinned and rushed forward. In seconds, he was on top of her, straddling his sister's stomach and pinning her hands to the bed. Deftly, he snaked his belt around her wrists--tightly as he dared. Dragging her along the bed, he quickly wove the last of the belt around the frame until she was secured to his satisfaction. Still grinning, he pressed his lips to her ear once more.
"I'll show you what it's good for, my dear."
Morgan let out a pitiful whimper that sent a chill down James' spine. He ground his hips against her chest, wishing they were both naked. That would have been so much more humiliating. But then, it wasn't like she was going anywhere was she? Rolling off, he began to strip out of his uniform. The task was accomplished in a matter of seconds and he immediately returned to his place atop his restrained not-sister's chest.
The only clothing she still wore was one of his dress shirts, though his sister seemed to have withered inside it. Grinning, James reached down and began to unbutton it. He took his time, savoring the emotions that alternately crossed her face. There was anger there. Fear. Shame. Not to mention a healthy dose of anxiety. When he'd unbuttoned her down to her abdomen, he rose just an inch and yanked the garment wide.
His sister's breasts were small, but flawless. The skin was smooth and milky white and each breast was crowned by a small, pert nipple. They were just a shade redder than her areolas, which were so small as to be almost nonexistent. The stiff nubs stood out so prominently, however, that James hardly noted their absence.
Reaching down, he cupped Morgan's breasts and gave each a gentle squeeze. They fit perfectly in the palms of his hands and he savored the softness as he slowly rolled them beneath his fingers. Running his thumbs over her nipples, he grinned at the involuntary shudder that flickered across his sister's face. As much as he despised her, the thought of her struggling against her own body's arousal was intoxicating.
Though, to be fair, Kentravi was unlikely to be experiencing such a struggle firsthand.
Taking each nipple between his fingers, James pinched hard. Morgan cried out, back arching as she struggled against the belt that kept her bound. He tugged, stretching her nipples painfully far. His sister's face contorted into a mask of pain and she let out a strangled shriek. After waiting for a second, James released her, eying the way her breasts jiggled in response. Immediately, the flesh began to redden around her abused nipples.
Taking a deep breath, James angled his hips forward, allowing his erection to press between his sister's breasts. The skin was warm and incredibly soft. Awkwardly, he cupped her breasts and pressed them together to envelope his member. It was a struggle and her small tits barely managed the job, but as he gave his first thrust, James knew he'd made the right choice.
"You like this?" he growled. Leaning forward, he loomed over Morgan's face. "You like fucking guys with these pathetic tits of yours?"
"You're disgusting," Morgan whispered.
Snarling, James grabbed her hair and yanked her head up from the pillow. He shoved his hips forward, until the tip of his cock was smashed against her lips. Grimacing, Morgan twisted in his grasp, angling her face away from his member.
"Sir," he reminded her. He took advantage of her helplessness and began to grind his shaft against her cheek. A bead of precum welled from the tip and he smeared it at the corner of her mouth.
"Say it properly," he ordered. Taking hold of her head with both hands, he forced her to stare straight ahead at his rigid pole. The tip rested on her lips, and he saw her upper lip quiver in disgust.
"Sir," Morgan muttered. Her eyes clenched shut as the word made her lips brush ever-so-slightly against his flesh.
"That's very rude, Captain Davison," he teased. As he spoke, he pressed himself just a bit harder against her mouth. Her lips tightened instantly, so hard the color drained from them. "Open your mouth."
"James, please!" Morgan cried out, suddenly. But the exact nature of her petition was interrupted as James forced the end of his shaft between her lips.
"No biting, Kentravi," James advised. He doubted the shapeshifter would have been either so daring or foolish, but there was no harm in being careful.
"Yeuh suhh," Morgan acknowledged. She pressed her tongue hard against him, as if trying to expel him from her mouth. After a few second, she let out a cough and began to struggle against her bonds with increased ferocity.
Bracing himself against the headboard, James sank more and more of his shaft into her mouth. He knew Kentravi could handle easily enough, but in an unfamiliar form it was entirely possible for her to choke on him. The sight of his sister, face screwed up in horror as she was forced to fellate him filled him with furious lust. Her mouth was nothing special, warm, soft, and wet like any other. But the roleplay made him wish he were not so accustomed to endurance. The thought of emptying his balls into his bitch of sister's mouth was too tempting to pass up. He gave a few deep, aggressive thrusts into the back of her vulnerable throat.
Pulling back, James watched Morgan struggle to catch her breath. She was red-faced, and her chin was soaked with a thick coat of phlegm and saliva. She coughed, spraying the sloppy mixture onto her tits and hair.
Wrapping a hand around his erection, James began to use the slimy mixture to stroke himself off.
"You're not even worthy of sucking my cock, Morgan," he said. "You're just a worthless piece of trash."
To his surprise, Morgan nodded weakly. "You're right, James. I mean, sir. Sorry, sir. You're right."
Smiling darkly, James nodded.
"Still," he said. "I think I know just thing for you."
Straddling her face, James slowly lowered himself until his balls sagged against the bridge of her nose.
Morgan's eyes went wide with panic. Reaching down as he continued to stroke himself with one hand, James rested his free palm on the top of her head.
"Lick my ass," he ordered.
At first, Morgan made no indication of complying. James tightened his fingers, pressing down on her temples with his thumb and middle finger until he felt the first hesitant lap of her tongue against his backdoor. He eased his grip, letting out a soft groan as she began to lick at him more earnestly.
He'd never been a huge fan of rimjobs. It wasn't that they didn't feel good, or at least interesting, but it certainly wasn't something that normally got him near orgasm. Plus, they seemed a tad more about humiliating the giver than pleasuring the receiver. Right now, however, that was exactly what he needed.
James jerked himself eagerly, savoring the thought of Morgan's tongue forced to clean his backdoor. To her credit, the woman pursued it without much complaint, though she continued struggling at her bonds.
She even probed upward, managing to penetrate him a half-inch with the tip of her tongue.
In the span of a few minutes, however, James' practiced hand had him dancing around the edge of orgasm. He was almost sorry for the interruption. The pleasure of degrading his sister's body was so great that even his own climax seemed more like a necessary evil than the delight it normally was.
When at last the moment arrived, James lifted his hips suddenly. Morgan stared up at him in surprise, her tongue still extended obediently.
"Don't move," he instructed. Dropping down, he straddled her shoulders and continued to stroke his shaft eagerly. His breathing grew ragged. Snatching up a handful of his sister's hair, he angled her face forward, holding her inches away from his tip.
Gritting his teeth, James allowed release to wash over him. A gutteral growl erupted from his lungs in tandem with the first blast of his seed. The cum plastered his sister's face, right between the eyes. They shut immediately, but her mouth continued to hang open, either deliberately or in legitimate surprise.
James struggled to keep his eyes open to savor the sight as he covered Morgan's face in cum. His cock unleashed a torrent of the stuff and he'd never been more grateful for the volume. Waves of pleasure coursed through him as his swiftly emptying balls clenched, but he was a hundred times more focused on his target. As the flow dwindled to a weak trickle of seed, James tensed and managed one last glob of milky semen directly onto her waiting lips and tongue.
Groaning, James let out a weak exhale and dropped back to rest on his knees. His shoulders were covered with a thin sheen of sweat, but it was nothing compared to the mess he'd made of Morgan's profile. There didn't seem to be an inch of her face that had been left untouched. Streaks of cum crisscrossed her nose, lips, and cheeks. It even hung in sticky pools on both eyes, clinging in thick strands to her brows and eyelashes. And that wasn't even beginning to touch on the wads scattered throughout her hair.
"That's better," he said. He dismounted her and knelt beside her heaving breasts. "Appropriate decoration for a captain of your... distinguished accomplishments."
Morgan opened her mouth, then grimaced as much of the glossy seed coating them dripped into her mouth. She grimaced, licked her lips, swallowed, then grimaced again.
"Thank you, sir," she whispered.
"Oh, don't thank me yet," James said. "There's still much more to come. You, for instance."
Morgan lunged upright, eyes flashing open. Or, tried, rather. One eye appeared to have been glued shut during her facial. The other barely managed a squint, due to the weight of cum hanging from the lashes. Though her bound wrists kept her from sitting up, the half-upright angle of her face made the residue begin to leak down her cheeks, onto her neck and shoulders. More than a few strands of hair fell across her face and immediately became fixed in place.
"James, please!" Morgan pleaded. "Isn't this enough? You've made your point!"
"Is that right?" James teased. He reached out, softly caressing his sister's breast. Her skin was hot to the touch, and he marveled at how his twisted, worthless, pain-in-the-ass sibling could have such an exquisite body. Even knowing that it was actually Kentravi, It almost disturbed him how easily it was to look at her sexually now.
"Yes! You have!" The hint of desperation in Morgan's voice had grown into the only detectible emotion.
"And what point is that?"
"You're in command!" Morgan insisted, speaking so hastily that her words nearly blended together.
"You're powerful and I'm not! I'm weak and worthless! Trash! You're the master and I'm nothing!"
If he hadn't just blown his wad all over her face, James felt as though he might have at hearing his sister's voice say such submissive things. It was almost enough to satisfy his anger. In fact, had it actually been Morgan saying such things he imagined that he might have relented.
But it was not, so he would not.
"Dear, dear sister," he murmured, giving her breast an affectionate squeeze. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to hear you say those things."
"I'll say them!" Morgan babbled. "I'll say whatever you want! Only--"
"But that's not the point I'm trying to make here," James said coldly.
"Please, please, please...!"
Pinching Morgan's defenseless nipple, he gave the stiff bud a sharp twist. Morgan gasped, back arching.
"Spread your legs," he ordered.
"No, please! James, please don't!"
James pinched harder, allowing the nail of his thumb to dig into her sensitive flesh. Morgan shrieked and immediately spread her legs, trembling.
"I'm going to continue," he warned her. "And this won't stop until you've grasped the real point that I'm trying to make."
Closing her eyes, Morgan fell limply back to the bed and let out a quiet, solitary sob. Her legs continued to tremble, but remained open.
Scooting toward the foot of the bed, James planted himself between her knees and allowed himself to examine his sister's pussy for the first real time. To his surprise, it resembled, more or less, any other he'd seen. Knowing Morgan, he half expected it to be lined with teeth or resemble some monstrous gate to the
Void. Instead, he found it altogether ordinary.
Well, ordinary wasn't precisely accurate--Morgan's snatch was as flawless as the rest of her, physically speaking. Her folds comprised a textbook cleft of venus, soft, pink, and tight-looking. A hint of moisture was visible leaking from the center, and her small, delicate clit was peeking out from its hood. The only hint of character was the small, neatly trimmed patch of pubic hair that lay above her sex. The rest had been shaved bare, all the way back to the tiny indent between her cheeks. Even the barely detectible odor was feminine and familiar, without even a hint of sulfur or brimstone.
Softly, James reached out to clutch one leg. He could feel Morgan tense at his touch, but he ignored the reaction and pressed his cheek to the inside of her thigh, just below the knee. As tenderly as he would any member of his harem, he began to plant a row of kisses down the length of her thigh.
"J-James?" Morgan gasped, drawing her head upright. "What are you doing?"
Reaching down, James closed his fingers around her clit and gave a soft squeeze.
"Not another word," he warned. "Lie down."
Reluctantly, Morgan obeyed, though her one good eye continued to squint down at him between her naked breasts.
When he'd reached the sensitive crease where Morgan's leg met her hips, James nipped playfully. His sister's hips jerked violently and he grinned. Releasing her leg, he immediately switched to its twin and began his procession anew. He took his time, dragging out the minutes to ensure each leg had been attended to properly.
By the time he reached the base of the second leg, Morgan's breathing had grown increasingly heavy. Her breasts rose and fell substantially, and her toned abdomen shifted each time she tensed.
"Are you enjoying this?" James asked. He nipped the inside of her thigh then straightened to stare at his sister's face.
"No," Morgan said. Her face was red beneath the ribbons of half-dried cum that coated it.
"Don't lie to me," James warned, allowing his thumb to wander across her clit.
"I..." Morgan stammered. "I mean... it feels nice. Sir. But we shouldn't be..."
"You're going to cum for me," James said, dropping his face back between her legs.
"W-what? No! James!"
Ignoring her, James lightly guided her legs wider. At once, Morgan began trying to clench them together. With a growl, James snuck a hand between her thighs and pinched her clit in warning. He said nothing, but had no need to. After a few seconds of hesitation, Morgan reluctantly parted her legs.
Ducking his head between his sister's legs, James nuzzled her sex with his cheek. Her skin was soft, like her breasts, though her pubic hair tickled her nose as he passed. He could feel a hint of moisture wet his cheek as he passed. The thought sent a thrill of pleasure through him, followed closely by bewilderment.
Why in the world was he enjoying this so much? Sure, the thought of forcing Morgan to do anything--literally anything--against her will was enormously satisfying. But he could just as easily have been balls deep inside her. So why was he about to go down on a woman he despised?
Fuck it, he was going to force the bitch to cum for him.
Teasing the inside of her thighs with his thumbs, James went to work. He kissed and lapped his way around her pussy, carefully avoiding the increasingly wet center. Morgan's breathing grew ragged, filled with half-voiced moans and whimpers. On either side of James' head, her legs began to shift and wriggle with unmet need.
With unsurpassed softness, James allowed his tongue to slide ever-so-slightly past Morgan's clit, though he avoided the button itself. Morgan yelped suddenly, legs jerking back toward her torso.
"Liked that, did you?" James murmured into her thigh. He repeated the technique, watching his sister's filthy face contort with pleasure.
"I asked you a question," he growled.
Morgan opened her eye and the color in her face faded a little.
"Yes," she admitted, averting her gaze.
"I bet you'll like this even more," James said. Taking a deep breath, he pressed his lips to the rear of Morgan's pussy and gave a powerful lick all the way up across her clit.
Morgan squealed, legs spasming and twitching in midair as her back arched. Without pausing, James dove headfirst into his oral attentions. Skills, acquired from years of practice, guided his movements without thought. His thumbs spread her outer folds as his tongue stroked and teased every inch of her exposed sex. He sank his tongue inside her, stroked at her clit with his fingers, then switched when the telltale signs of her body suggested it was time. Within a matter of minutes, every inch of Morgan's body was trembling on the brink of climax.
For all his efforts, Morgan did her best to keep her face stoic. She couldn't prevent the sighs and sounds of pleasure from slipping out, but it was clear she was doing her best to keep them off her features. Though a part of James wanted to punish her for that, his own arousal insisted that he was up to the challenge.
The woman would be climaxing, whether she wanted to or not.
When he'd had enough of the game, James closed his lips around Morgan's clit and sucked hard. At the same moment, he sank two writhing fingers deep inside her previously unpenetrated sex. The unexpected stimulation proved too much for Morgan. She stiffened beneath his touch, breath catching in her lungs, and then her cunt gave a telltale clench.
A cry of pleasure spilled from Morgan's lungs as she came, clenching down on James' fingers. Her clit throbbed and shook between his lips and James took the opportunity to give her a playful bite. Morgan shuddered, her legs thrashing and nearly kicking him from the bed.
Grinning, despite himself, James withdrew his fingers and watched as the orgasm shook his sister's body. Slowly, she came down from her high and lay panting and trembling.
All too aware of his own painfully hard erection, James slowly retook his place beside Morgan's chest. He reached out with a hand, still slick with her juices, and silently circled one nipple. After a few circumnavigations, Morgan opened a cloudy eye and stared up at him.
"Well?" James asked. "How was it?"
Morgan's gaze quickly lowered, evading his. She bit her lip then cleared her throat.
"Have you figured out the point I'm trying to make?"
Morgan's face grew tight and it was clear she was racking her brain for the answer he was looking for. For a moment, he wondered if Kentravi actually knew, or if she was as lost as Morgan would have been.
"Y-you control me," she answered after a moment. "Control everything, sir. If you decide I'm going to... going to cum, I will. You decide. Not me."
"Better," James said. "Closer. But not quite."
"What? James! Please! Give me a hint!"
James slapped her. Not terribly hard, but hard enough to silence her and leave her cheek red and stinging. She stared up at him in fear and confusion. He, on the other hand, stared down at his hand. His fingertips were slathered with cum, half-dried and cold.
"Quiet!" James snapped. "Remember what you just said. I control you."
Morgan dropped her eyes once more and whispered a barely audible, "Yes, sir."
"Open your mouth."
Morgan hesitated, then complied immediately the second James raised a warning hand. Reaching out, James took his cum-covered fingers and slid them between his sister's open lips.
"Clean them," he instructed.
From the look on Morgan's face, it was obvious how revolting she found the task. But she did as she was bidden, running her tongue along James' fingers and lapping up the sticky cum from them, as well as the remnants of her own body's fluids. After a moment, she closed her lips tightly around his fingers and James pulled the newly cleaned digits free.
"I'll give you one more chance," he warned her. "Now, roll over. On your knees."
Morgan opened her mouth as if to protest, then slowly obeyed. It was difficult for her, with her wrists still bound, but she eventually managed. She rested on her elbows, which had the fortunate side effect of lifting her backside high in the air. More hair fell down across her face and stuck.
Silently, James reached out with his newly cleaned hand and gathered a few large globs of cum from his sister's face. She observed him expressionlessly and half-opened her mouth when he drew back his hand.
Ignoring her, James instead made his way to her rear and placed himself once more between her legs. Before she had a chance to protest, he smeared the collected cum across her pussy. Her folds clenched down in resistance be he ignored them, forcing his fingers inside as he deposited the wad of cold, viscous semen inside her.
"James," she whined.
Instead of answering, James gave her ass a ferocious smack. His sister yelped and fell silent. Wordlessly, James positioned himself at her entrance and shoved his way inside.
Morgan's pussy, unlike the cum he'd just forced inside, was warm and inviting. She gripped every inch of his shaft as he sank into her, squeezing and stimulating him with tantalizing friction. He groaned as he bottomed out inside his sister's cunt and permitted himself just a few seconds before he began to thrust.
Morgan let out a whimpering moan as he began to move. He gripped her hips, yanking her back to meet each one of his thrusts to add to the force of impact as he pounded her. The action kept her from using her elbows for leverage and she soon sank down, face against the bed.
"Say my name," he demanded. He slammed his hips against her well-disciplined rear.
"James," she mumbled weakly.
"You want me to stop?"
"P-Please," Morgan whimpered. She twisted a bit to stare pleadingly up at him. "It hurts. Y-you're t-too big!"
"Tough. You've been a real bitch, Morgan. This is what you deserve."
Morgan screwed her eyes shut and let out a cry somewhere between pleasure and pain. She took a few gasping breaths then paused, gave him a quick wink, and immediately sagged with a hopeless moan.
Good old Kentravi.
James smacked his sister's ass again as he continued to fuck her roughly. It was astonishing that he'd never thought of using the shapeshifter's abilities for such creative scenarios. Changing hair and tits was one thing... but there was no going back after something like this.
"Please, please..." Morgan moaned.
Not breaking his merciless rhythm for a second, James leaned forward and used one arm to put his weight squarely between Morgan's shoulder blades. Pressed to the bed, her sex fluttered weakly as she moaned and stared up at him.
"Give me one good reason why I should stop," he growled.
"Please," Morgan whimpered. "I'll do anything. Anything."
Cock twitching at the idea that immediately sprang to mind, James allowed his thrusts to slow then stop.
"Offer accepted," he announced, slowly withdrawing. Morgan went limp with relief as the last of his girth slipped from her well-stretched lips. That relief immediately turned to panic however, as James simply angled himself higher and pressed his tip to her small, untested pucker.
"No!" Morgan cried out, thrashing as best she could. "Not there! Not that!"
Hands clutching his sister's hips with an iron grip, James bore down. For a long second, her body resisted him. Then, with a slow, elastic motion, her ass gave way beneath the head of his cock.
Morgan cried out, tears filling her one visible eye.
"You said anything," James reminded her. He pushed forward with his hips, unable to bite back a groan of pleasure at the impossible tightness of his sister's asshole. The stretched, clenching orifice squeezed the base of his shaft almost painfully tight, but just past that he might as well have been fucking a cloud.
Grunting, he began to slowly buck with his hips.
"Jaaaames!" Morgan half-sobbed, half-whimpered. "Not my ass! It hurts!"
Ignoring her protests, James continued to thrust into her rear. The pressure on his cock was incredible, and he could tell almost at once that his legendary endurance would be no match, even considering his previous orgasm just a few minutes ago. Plus, the thought of dominating and ravishing Morgan in such a manner meant that he felt no obligation to last. It would be just what she deserved--fucked in the ass and used as nothing more than a cumdump for his frustrations.
"What's my point?" he demanded through gritted teeth. He could already feel the telltale churning in his balls and wanted to ensure he got an answer first.
"I'm yours!" Morgan sobbed. "I'm your slave, sir! Your bitch! I'm just a hole for your cum!"
James felt a shiver run down his spine and his cock gave a preemptive throb in anticipation.
"Go on," he gasped.
"My life is yours!" Morgan rambled, words interspersed with a chorus of groans, sobs, and moans. "I live for your cum! Fuck me! Make me pregnant! Choke me with your cock!"
Exhaling, James closed his eyes and came harder than he could ever remember. His cock throbbed inside Morgan's ass and unleashed such a torrent of cum that he felt like his life was draining away. He collapsed on her back, pushing his sister's body into the bed. His vision and hearing faded to black. The only sensations his brain managed to process were orgasmic bliss, the silent screaming of his empty lungs as he tried to moan, and the powerful contractions of his balls as they emptied themselves into his sister's ass.
After a thoughtless eternity, he gulped a desperate breath of air and struggled to lift his still pulsing body from the bed. His limbs didn't seem able to respond, and it took another few shaky breaths before he managed. No sooner had he done so, however, then his legs gave out and he tumbled back to the mattress. His cock, still leaking drops of cum, slipped from Morgan's gaping pucker as he did so.
He tried to look over, but his body still felt numb. After a few seconds, he weakly managed to turn his head.
"James?" Morgan repeated, eyes wide.
Why is she so worried about me?
As he watched, his sister's sharp, angular face grew smooth. Her pale skin grew darker, and the rest of her features changed a second later. The look of concern remained, though the expression looked far more natural on Kentravi's face than it had on Morgan's.
"James!" Kentravi almost shouted. "Y' okay? Say something!"
Am I okay?
James opened his mouth, but for a second no words formed. After a deep breath, he finally managed a raspy, "I... I'm okay."
Swallowing, James weakly forced himself upright. His head felt foggy. Confused.
"Are ya sure?" Kentravi demanded. She lifted a hand to James' brow. "You're really cold. And pale."
"No," James insisted. "I'm fine. Sorry, 'Travi. I didn't mean to worry you."
"What happened?" the woman asked, a bit more calmly.
James gave her a weak grin. "I think I just got too excited. Almost passed out."
"Do ya need anything? I could go 'n get Diana."
James shook his head, though the act left him a tiny bit dizzy.
"I just need a minute," he insisted. After a few more deep breaths, his grin widened and he added, "That ass was incredible."
Wincing, Kentravi stretched an arm low behind her back. "Thank your sister," she said with a grimace. She winced again and gave a lopsided grin. "Actually, no, thank me too."
James laughed, then leaned over and kissed Kentravi's forehead without thinking. He pulled back almost at once, spitting and gagging at the salty residue he found.
"Double standard!" Kentravi said with a laugh. "How would you like being forced ta swallow a bunch o' that?"
"Less than you would," he grumbled. Then, after a moment, he reached out and wrapped an arm around the woman and pulled her close. Immediately, the shapeshifter curled close, shut her eyes, and rested her still slightly sticky head on his chest.
Peeking up at him, Kentravi gave him a content smile. Stretching out an arm, she hugged him softly.
"Mmm, welcome," she murmured.
"But, seriously, tell anyone and I'll throw you out the airlock."
"Mmm, you wouldn't risk it."
Opening one eye, Kentravi stared up at him and gave a mischievous smile.
"Losing such an incredible ass."
It wasn't the sound of the door to his quarters opening that woke James. He'd fallen asleep cuddling Kentravi, both of them still stark naked, after all. Exhausted as they both were, he could probably have slept through a battle much like the one that had forcibly reintroduced him to Morgan.
What woke him was the heavy steel wrench that impacted the bed a few centimeters from his head.
Sitting upright, he scrambled for a weapon and was halfway to his concealed pistol before he realized that it was Janna who stood in the doorway.
"What was that?" he demanded. Had he been more awake, he would have been furious. But sleepiness had left him merely bewildered. He glanced at the bed, confirming that Kentravi was still sound asleep.
"You!" Janna thundered. She gestured furiously at him, face red.
Not this again.
"Janna, for the last time," he growled. "I don't know why you're upset! I'm doing everything I can to fix the Hyperion."
I just... you know... took a quick break.
Janna stared at him blankly, then began to laugh. It was not a laugh of amusement.
"Men," she snarled. "You think I care about that damn thing?"
"Then what is it?"
"Why the fuck did you leave a giant hole right outside the damn bridge?"