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It was built as a generation ship, a fat, bloated thing that hung in the void like a particularly cumbersome manatee. One of the four last, great hopes of humanity, the UNS Inuus had been adrift on the solar winds for several years, its grav thrusters working overtime to bring the massive bulk into the decimal-point of light speed that it would need to reach Gliese 667 Cc, one of the few exoplanets close enough and viable enough to sustain human life before it perished among the stars. Now, with its thrusters cold and inert, the Inuus slid soundlessly towards its destination, unperturbed by the fact that neither man nor machine held the helm. It was, for all intents and purposes, a blind, idiot hunk of metal hurtling at unsafe speeds towards a planet that might or might not still be there, and which might or might not be capable of sustaining a fledgling population of Homo Sapiens. So, all in all, there was reason to hope.
It had been a long time since anyone had walked the halls, and when the first cryo-pod of cryo bay nine-delta-two switched from a blinking yellow light to a persistent, cheery green, no one was there to greet the bleary-eyed man who stepped, dazed and slightly damp, from the billowing vapors. Naked except for a pair of unisex undergarments, he stumbled forward and only just managed to grab onto a conveniently placed handle before doubling over and groaning with belated exhaustion. It took a few minutes for him to recover, but at length his blurry vision straightened enough that he could look around at the row of unopened and unflappable pods that surrounded him.
His mumbled words were swallowed up by the humming of the cryo-pods, and slowly, the man turned around and looked at the pod from which he had emerged, and upon which was a name emblazoned in sensible, white print.
“Terrence Jameson. TJ.”
He remembered now, at least parts of it. Signing up for the Gaia Initiative, acing the physical tests, acing the mental tests, even acing the fertility tests that had been run no less than four times to ensure that his seed was not merely up to par, but also copious and healthy. A sensible bit of foresight for a mission to essentially repopulate the species, but no less awkward to deliver yet another sample of his semen to the dark-haired scientist who had overseen his application. She had given him a smirk every time he handed one over, as if she was both amused that he was humoring her, and disappointed that she was not allowed to help extract the sample. Perhaps it had all been a ruse; certainly, delivering the samples to her with the ghost of her smirk and plump, perfect breasts hovering behind his eyes had been no problem at all.
With the muscles in his legs aching due to disuse, TJ staggered over to the next pod and looked at the display. He was no technician, but the red light did not imbue him with a sense of confidence, and experimentally, he tried pressing a few buttons to see if he could unlock it. He could not. If anything, the blinking light only seemed to resent the idea, and began to blink more rapidly in response. Muttering a curse under his breath, TJ reached up and placed a hand on the pod. Still cold. That meant it was working, but perhaps the mechanism to unlock it had become faulty. The occupant – a man named Maxwell – would not suffer, but he would have to wait until someone with a clue of what was going on was awakened.
It took TJ another forty minutes to gather his wits, during which time he located the storage for clothes and dressed himself, a standardized pair of trousers and a zip-up shirt that fit snugly across his chest. Adding a pair of socks, he next set out to find something to eat, and only when he was halfway through a box of animal crackers that he had found in an altogether larger crate full of boxes of animal crackers did he realize that it might be suspicious that no one else was awake. Not just in Nine-Delta-Two, but at all. The ship around him was totally, perfectly silent, and with his immediate hunger sated, it was beginning to unnerve him.
From 9D2, it was easy to get to the living quarters on the decks above, from whence the bridge was accessible through the front. A cursory check, however, showed that no one was awake, and the bridge was locked off and sealed until the commanding officer, or one of his many subalterns, awoke from stasis. Subsequently, TJ returned to the cryo decks and began to meticulously investigate the numerous five-pod bays which held the collective cargo of six hundred human popsicles. It was slow going. Starting with the port side, he soon began to feel weary and forlorn as room after room showed nothing but closed, humming pods, and by the time he had finished with all sixty, TJ was ready to give up. Some of the pods, he knew, were set to open before others, to allow the flight crew to attend to the ship before the civilian passengers were brought back to the surface. But somewhere, something had gone bağcılar escort wrong, and TJ seemed to be the only person to emerge at all. With the Inuus still billions of miles from its destination, it would be years before TJ might possibly see anything but the inside of the spacecraft, and even then, assuming he did not go stark raving mad with cabin fever, how would be disembark? How would he survive alone? Perhaps he wasn’t the fortunate one to awaken while everyone else slept. Perhaps it had been better to remain in the cold and gentle dark, and waste away with the others. Perhaps.. perhaps..
Or perhaps the noises coming from the aft section of the starboard side wasn’t mere engine noise after all. TJ perked up, his steps growing harder and more steady as he began to run towards the very hindmost pod bay of the women’s side. The blood pounded in his ears, muscles straining and wailing with fatigue after years of inactivity, but the closer he got, the more certain he became that it was not just a figment of his imagination. Someone was coughing. Someone who wasn’t him!
Skidding to a halt in the doorway, TJ cast his gaze about, and hope soared in his chest. Not only were the pods open, but all five women were slowly getting their bearings, one of them leaning heavily against the side of her pod while another, a tall, slender redhead, was hunched down and coughing her lungs out. When one of the women – a short blonde with wet curls and a cherub face – spotted him, her gasp alerted the other women, and TJ suddenly found himself the object of attention of five weary and confused women.
“Who’re you?” barked one of them, the one who had been leaning against the pod, and TJ set his eyes upon her dark, mocha skin and fierce, brown eyes with a soft, disarming smile. She took a step forward, and immediately, TJ sensed that she had the air of a leader about her. Maybe military, but more likely scientific. The lead physician?
“I’m Terrence,” he said, and held up his hands to ward her off. “I only just woke up, too, about an hour ago. Two, maybe. I’ve been checking the other pods, but–“
“You with the flight crew?” The dark woman had a slightly British accent, which made every ‘th’ sound dip slightly towards a ‘v’, and TJ felt an unspoken challenge in the way she spoke, a challenge he had no desire to return.
“No. I’m just a civilian. Like I said, I only just woke up, as the only one. Aside from you, I guess.”
Behind the dark woman, another girl of a slightly lighter complexion peered out over her shoulder and blinked, her large, almond-shaped eyes hinting at a vaguely oriental heritage.
“Just us? Is everyone else dead?”
The blonde gasped, which made the confrontational woman scowl slightly. TJ sighed softly.
“No, no– the pods just won’t cycle to unthaw them. I tried doing it, but I’m not an engineer. Now that you are here, though, maybe one of you can help! It’s worth a shot, right? But, look, we gotta get you clothed and fed first. I know where, just come with me. Okay? It’ll all be alright.”
“Of course it will.” It was the redhead, her milky eyes scanning over her companions and TJ with reassuring warmth. “We’re here, we’re alive, and we’re going to be fine. So let’s go get dressed, huh?” She turned to TJ and smiled. “Show the way, Terrence. I’m Leah, by the way.”
The dark woman made a moue, but did not object. Then, after a second’s hesitation, she said: “Ginny. My name’s Ginny.”
“Bree.” The blonde squeaked from the corner, and from behind Ginny, the almond-eyed girl added: “Anjali. But you can call me An.”
“And I’m Emma.”
The voice was familiar to TJ, but he only made the connection when she stepped out of the shadows, dark hair mussed by her long sleep and glasses slightly askew. It was still the same enigmatic smile, however, and TJ felt a slight shiver of serendipity run through him as he smiled back, not sure why his trousers were suddenly feeling altogether more tight than before.
To cover up his reaction, and because ogling the half-naked women for much longer would have been churlish, he turned on his heel and began to lead them past the rows and rows of restful cryo bays, and up to the upper decks where he had left a few of the crackers on a table. The women, he noticed, were craning their necks every which way as they walked, and he silently wondered if he had done the same – it was hard to remember the initial fugue, and he resolved to get the women fed and clothed as quickly as possible. With them seated in the living quarters, he went back downstairs to fetch what he needed, and returned ten minutes later hauling a large bag of clothes as well as several packets of dry rations and bottled water. For a spell, everyone ate in silence. Ginny, who seemed to have claimed the position of leader by natural inclination, eyed TJ warily as she chewed. TJ in turn did his best to remain as bahçelievler escort friendly and disarming as possible.
Finally, someone broke the silence. It was Bree, staring with a forlorn gaze down at her half-eaten food.
“Are they ever going to wake up?”
Ginny snorted. “Don’t be daft. It’s just a matter of time before this place is crawling with people. If anything, we ought to enjoy this.”
“Oh?” The raven-haired doctor, Emma, cocked her head and pursed her lips. “Do you know something we don’t, Ginny?”
The dark woman shook her head. “Nah. But if we’re awake, they will be, too. Guaranteed.”
Emma smiled, but said nothing. Meanwhile, Bree got up and began to pace the floor, her bodysuit flapping around her arms with the zipper undone. TJ followed her with his eyes, but said nothing. He wanted to, but it was difficult to find any reassuring words when he himself wasn’t certain. Maybe Ginny was right, and the problem was temporary. But maybe not.
“Well, we’re not going to fix anything by sitting here.” Anjali rose, her bodysuit fitting perfectly, and took a few steps. “Ginny, you’re Agri, right? We should get our green foods going, the sooner the better. Hydroponics should be ready to go.”
Ginny gave a strange look, but nodded. “Yeah. How d’you know?”
Anjali smiled. “Read your pod. I’m tech, although I only deal in the gardening stuff. Come on, let’s go check it out.”
Evidently reluctant to leave, although for reasons unknown, Ginny allowed herself to be spirited away, and Emma likewise recused herself, citing a need to check the medical facilities. Her gaze and smile remained hypnotic, although TJ wasn’t sure if it was actually her doing, or if he had simply evolved some sort of pavlovian response to her presence. She had been instrumental in several of the last ejaculations he’d made, and his body seemed to remember that fact.
Alone with Bree and Leah, TJ tried to think of something to say. Eventually, he decided that words weren’t his strong suit, and he, too, left, to go try his luck with the cryo pods again. He didn’t feel particularly lucky, but it was better than sitting and watching Bree pace and worry, or Leah’s quiet, slightly detached smile. Better to do something with himself, even if it would prove futile and fruitless.
Trying to unlock the cryo-pods proved futile and fruitless. After several hours, TJ heard a soft chime ring out from overhead, and fifteen minutes later, the lights of the ship cycled down to about one quarter of the strength, leaving him in a weird sort of pseudo-gloom that pervaded everywhere he went. Realizing that this was the beginning of the ship’s internal day/night cycle, TJ rose from the console he had been poking for the past half hour, and made his way up to the living quarters. There was no sign of the women, so instead he found himself a nice, cozy double bed in a small cabin meant for two, and laid himself down to sleep. It had been a short day, a scant few hours since he had been woken from a years-long nap, but TJ was nonetheless intent on acclimatizing himself to the ship’s environment, if only to avoid having to work in the dark. Pointedly, he folded his arms behind his head, closed his eyes and failed utterly and miserably in falling even a little bit asleep.
After half an hour of lying motionless and feeling increasingly frustrated with himself, a soft sound from outside made him open his eyes. He had, for reasons of disclosure, left the door to his cabin open, and now he found Leah standing on the precipice, her body suit slightly ruffled as if she had been crawling or rolling around somewhere. It was difficult to make out her face in the darkness, but her silhouette stood clear against the open door, and TJ sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed to face her.
“Leah..? Is everything alright?”
“Terrence..” Her voice was soft, and it had an odd timbre, as if a slight, nasal whine had made its way into her otherwise melodious words. “Are you alone in here?”
TJ frowned, a gesture which was lost to the darkness, and nodded tentatively. “Yeah,” he said. “Not a lot of people to shack up with just yet.”
Leah laughed and took a step into the room. Her naked feet were all but silent on the short carpet, and TJ merely watched her in curious silence as she came closer, evidently spurred on by his stare.
“Shack up with..” She laughed again, and now she was close enough that TJ could see the contours of her face as she stood before him, slender and gorgeous. “That’s funny. Would you like someone to shack up with, Terrence? Someone to keep you warm in the cold, cold evenings?”
“It’s just TJ,” said TJ, whose mouth suddenly felt very dry. “And, uh… I– that’s a little forward, isn’t it?”
A movement near the door momentarily stole his attention away, but then Leah pulled her jumpsuit down to expose her bahçeşehir escort terribly naked breasts, and TJ’s attention was immediately dragged back to the woman before her. Sitting on the bed in front of her, he was practically at eye-height with her nipples, and for a few, pregnant seconds they were all he could focus on, small and hard and erect like bullets from her small, conical breasts.
“I want you, Terrence,” she whispered, and TJ felt her hand creep around to the back of his neck as she moved to pull him against her chest. He likely would have allowed her to, his libido rapidly surging to take over motor functions where his higher consciousness had failed, but suddenly a second figure emerged next to Leah, and TJ saw a flash of muted gold as he was rather vigorously tugged out of Leah’s grasp.
“Back off, bitch! I saw him first!”
Confused, dazed and slightly horny, TJ looked up at Bree, whose hand had interfered and grabbed hold of his collar to yank him to the side. If her eyes could have sparked, they undoubtedly would have as she bodily pushed Leah aside and made to straddle TJ’s sitting form. Only the irate arms of the redhead kept her from achieving her goal, and suddenly a scuffle had broken out on top of TJ, who tried to comprehend what the hell was going on around him.
“Girls.. girls! Ladies!” Reaching up to break the two fighting women apart, TJ accidentally found his hands seizing on a breast on either side of him, one small and needy and naked, the other larger and clothed, but evidently no less needy than its cousin.
As quickly as they had begun to row, the two women quieted into a odd, subservient lull, and TJ felt obliged to say something as he clutched each of their breasts awkwardly. “Please,” he muttered, slowly peeling his hands away while regretting doing so with every fiber of his being. “Don’t fight. I’ve–“
“He’s right.” Bree cut him off, her voice equally tinged with what TJ now started to recognize as lust. “It’s just the two of us. We can share him!”
One long, tense second passed between the two women, during which TJ felt his eyes grow wide with incomprehension. Share? They’d barely exchanged ten words with him before, and now they wanted to share him? But then something sparked in his mind, a memory long buried by the arduous hypersleep and the panic of being the only survivor of the ship. It was a piece of information left over from the vast briefing package he had been given before take-off. It spoke of a hormone and pheromone treatment laced into every parts of the ship, from the food and water to the recycled air, and even the fabric of the female-designated clothes. A treatment to ensure maximum breeding potential, similar in nature (and chemical composition) to the states of heat that other mammals experience when procreation is on the line. A deep, heartfelt urge to fuck, scheduled to take place as soon as the female crew and passengers were awakened. Certain pills, he recalled, would diminish or negate the effects, allowing a skeleton crew of women to remain unburdened by pregnancy should the need arise, but otherwise, the UNS Inuus, true to its purpose, was built to be a literal hatchery of human beings. A breeding ground. A generation ship, in the truest sense of the word.
TJ contemplated this as the two women before him kneeled down and tore away his trousers, their fingers leaving stinging red marks where he was too slow to comply with their wishes. Already, the idea of a pair of above-averagely attractive women yearning for his body was having a marked effect on his cock, but TJ couldn’t help but feel slightly bad when he looked down and saw the two girls lean in like mirror images of one another, and both press their warm, soft lips against the head of his cock. It was a kiss, gentle at first but then increasingly sultry, and his cock throbbed painfully in the middle of the flurry of tongues and soft, gasping moans as the women began to literally wrestle against each other’s mouth for the privilege of taking him inside and swallowing him down. However much their minds might have been altered by the pheromone soup, their eagerness and enthusiasm seemed genuine enough. Tentatively, TJ leaned back and placed a hand on either head, content to simply watch in awe as they fought over his cock.
In the end, Leah prevailed, helped along by a sneaky hand dipping in to nudge his cock over to her side, and TJ gasped with heartfelt pleasure as her lips pushed halfway down his shaft in one, slick move, the wet heat engulfing him and dragging languidly over his skin by way of her hungry tongue. Bree, momentarily put out by the loss, wasted no time leaning down to kiss the parts of him that she could reach, and soon she was leaned over his knee, her plump breasts squishing against his thigh as she suckled and licked his sack, moving from one orb to the other while humming with delight. Bit by bit, TJ felt his pleasure mount, and he allowed himself to lean his head back and close his eyes, the sensation of two hungry tongues lapping at his manhood washing out the moral part of him that suggested that he ought not take advantage of these women. Tomorrow, he told himself, knowing full well that he was probably bullshitting himself, tomorrow I will find the pills to revert the hormones. Tomorrow. Tomorrow.
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