Lost in Space Chapter 5

Lost in Space
Chapter 5

"Yeah," Carole's brow was lined, "they told me they needed me to seduce scientists and engineers; it was a secret plan to win the Cold War. I didn't much care; I got money, clothes, they paid for my college, everything.

And what the hell, wasn't it like I hadn't, um, already seduced men for money and whatever..."

"And then me?"

"Yeah, they put me in that class to get close to you, but... well, I told them no, Didn't want you to disappear...

Then I felt left out. I told Sheryl I wanted out; they said okay, but the deal was to plant a bunch of those tiny machines you were talking about."

"Nanomachines. The labs, engineering, the seminar room," Peter snorted, "my house... yeah, I could hear them, but I was the only one. Thought I was going insane."

"Going? Yup, and for that, they'd leave us alone. Someone lied. Sheryl or one of those 'guards' I met with, you call them. Those two that took us, I'd met them."

"I'm not so sure," Peter said slowly, "that they lied, but Anna did say she thought we were 'threats' to their plans.

That they need us to help them."

"Help them? They have invisible spaceships, and you keep muttering about artificial fucking gravity and ray guns..."

"And genetic engineering," Peter said, "but Anna told me that someone murdered their planet, and we, humans, need our help. That was as far as we got..."

"So I'm not a traitor to the human race?"

"If they wanted us wiped out, we'd be wiped out. But we, you and me, we're safe. Don't know how much more of this great coffee and what exactly we can do, dunno."

Carole slid off the bed, took his mug, and put it on the little counter. Then she slid off the robe as she walked back to the bed, hopped onto it, and crawled to him on her hands and knees. She kissed him.

"Anna did mention one other offer," Peter said as Carole lifted his shirt off and kissed his neck and chest.

"What was that?"

"A three-way..."

Carole's eyes went hard, and she pushed her hand under his waistband.

"No fucking way," she said as she gripped his cock so hard it was almost painful, "this is mine. All mine. No alien cat elf slut whores are getting near it. And especially not that Jayne and her ass."

She kissed him hard as she pushed against him and pushed against his thin pants. He flexed his leg to lift his ass off of the bed, and his garment slid down his legs, and he shuffled it past his feet as he pushed off the slippers. Without breaking the kiss, she flipped herself so she could lay back as she pulled him by his very excited shaft.

Peter put his knees on the bed before grabbing Carole by the waist and shifting them entirely onto the bed. Her legs went wide as he slid between them. His mouth left her lips as her back hit the bed, and he kissed his way to her right nipple; he blew softly on it, then used his tongue to caress it before he sucked it in. As he released it and moved laterally, she wrapped her hands around his neck and pulled him up.

"Time for that later," her voice was insistent as her left hand returned to his cock and fine-tuned its aim, "get this thing inside of me. Me. Not Jayne. Not that Anna elf or whatever the fuck she is."

"Oh, ah...," she pulled him, and he felt her wetness and her heat as she guided his cock into her pussy. Her fingers released him as he inserted himself fully, and they both grunted as their eyes locked.

He'd flipped them after he didn't know how long with him on top. She'd straddled him with her hands on his chest; his hands worked the excited nipples on her perfect breasts as she pressed down hard, and he felt the tip of his prick contact with flesh. She bit her bottom lip with each downward push. Her breath was hard, and her eyes were slit as she fucked him with an abandon he couldn't recall.

She slowed as she finally tired, and he flipped them again. Her arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him tightly as he slammed himself into her as fast and hard as he could. She pushed her hips at the end of the stroke and pulled his head alongside hers to allow each of them to kiss the other's sweaty neck.

"Oh... hell... uh," he grunted.

"Do it. Fill me," she managed as she wrapped her legs around his hips and pulled him entirely into her body as his cock spasmed repeatedly.

"Finally...," she whispered as he was beyond words. Her cunt squeezed him with her climax as the last of his cream filled her and overflowed with her juices.

He kissed and nibbled her ear; her hair was sweat-soaked, but he doubted he was any different.

"I've dreamed of that," she kissed him back, "wonder how we get fresh sheets in this jail..."

                                                                            The Tour

Carole snuggled under Peter's left arm as they sat on the 'love seat' in their living room, or whatever was the proper name for the second space in their quarters that offered a sitting area with the love seat, or whatever was the best name for a small couch that nicely fit two adults, a chair and a table that served as a coffee table and dining table.

At one end of the room was a kitchenette with a machine that dispensed the not-coffee. It also served up 'soup' in beef, chicken, or vegetable flavors. It wasn't overly filling, but it tasted like what it claimed to be. Carole claimed its 'tea' was much closer to its namesake than was the coffee, which to Peter meant it was to be avoided.

All in all, if that were the limit of their sustenance, they'd have little trouble avoiding weight gain even though their quarters, these two rooms and a tiny bathroom with a shower stall, offered only one real option for exercise.

One that they'd enthusiastically engaged in twice since Peter had returned from his meeting. A meeting with an alien. An alien Queen. And Carole had met with a woman, a human woman she called Sheryl, who was an agent of these aliens.

Like Cat, Jayne Fraser was her name; she and this Sheryl were both conscious and willing agents in league with this Queen Anna. Unlike Carole, who'd been recruited under, if not entirely false, obscured premises.

Peter's thoughts were confused. He couldn't help a slight feeling of pride. He'd been 'targeted,' that was clear.

Torture didn't appear to be in the cards. But still, the deeper 'why' nagged at him. Not to mention some lingering resentment at having been forced at gunpoint and brought to a secret satellite in orbit around his home planet.
And while the sex they'd just had was great, he was happier that Carole had popped out of her funk, at least for now.

Their second time making love had been slow; each performed long and slow bouts of oral sex on the other, alternating with equally slow fucking. His climax, both of them, had been inside of her pussy. They were here; there was no reason to avoid that. She'd always claimed that birth control was taken care of. He was sterile, or all but an issue for both him and his brother. Although he suspected his brother had more significant issues, his brother's problems weren't Peter's worries for the foreseeable future. Not that Jed would've ever offered assistance for Peter's issues. Well, he would've, but only for a price.

He and Carole had showered and were naked under a blanket from the bed. Her eyes were closed, but she wasn't asleep, her legs bent under her as she snuggled under his left arm, her left hand idly stroking his not-relaxed prick. With his right, he tapped on the small glass-fronted pad that he'd placed on his right thigh and had worked out it was some computer. It offered guides to their dispenser and the printer for their clothes. It also listed a 'television,' so he tapped that. The pad reminded him of a couple of papers from a research group in Palo Alto around 'graphical user interfaces.' But this touch screen. Nothing like this existed on earth.

Another flat panel mounted on the wall across from them turned on, and a list of various languages appeared.

His pad offered arrows that allowed him to select 'English.' He'd experiment more later. The screen morphed into a listing of options.

"Shit," he said softly.

"Mmm?" Carole stirred but didn't open her eyes.

"They have movies, TV shows, oh. 'Dukes of Hazzard?' Hell. I'm surprised they haven't just nuked us on principle until it's nothing but rubble bouncing."

A chime sounded.

"Uh," Peter looked around before Carole's head lifted slightly, and her eyes opened halfway.

"That's the door," she said, "we have a guest."

The pad on his thigh beeped; he looked at it.

'Intercom? Yes/No?' He tapped the 'Yes' button.

"Hello, Peter, Carole, my name is Angie. Anna told me to bring you wristlets and take you on a tour. Can I come in?"

It was a strange voice from an unknown speaker on the pad on his thigh, flat but seemed human otherwise.

Peter wondered if that was her voice or the place. But she lacked the accent of that other girl, that Kim, thought

Peter, but it was still a strange voice. But she sounded friendly.

"Oh, uh, Angie, we're um..."

"Naked," Carole added with a lilt before she laughed; a laugh came through the pad.

"Nothing I haven't seen before," she paused, "but I can wait. Anna was insistent I take you now."

"Anna," Carole whispered sharply; Peter turned and saw her stern gaze, "I need to meet this cat, elf, whatever slut."

"Ok, Angie," Carole's voice was expected, "give us a minute."

Angie's voice was odd; it hadn't been entirely the pad. She'd produced what Peter and Carole took were some watches with black plastic armbands. Angie laughed and said, "Well, they tell time TOO."

But she'd quickly 'paired' each of them, one to the pad computer Peter had on his lap and a second she'd brought for Carole, 'pallets' she'd called them. The wristlets were even tinier computers.

"Say what?"

"The rain in Spain falls mostly on the plain," Angie said, "it'll tune the voice controls to each of you."

"Man, you guys must've spent the time since you got here watching old movies and TV," Peter said, and both women laughed. But they repeated the phrase, and after a few minutes, Angie declared herself satisfied. Then she'd reached into a waist pocket and pulled out what looked like six pairs of hearing aids in various colors and told them to choose. Carole chose a light blue pair, Peter decided on dark red, and Angie returned the rest to her pocket. She showed Carole a tiny button and told her to push and hold for a count of three before slipping them into her ear. Then Angie helped her make a button on her pallet, and the shorter woman's eyes widened, and she smiled before she bopped her head in time to music Peter couldn't hear. Angie repeated the setup with Peter before they paused their respective tests. She stopped them as they reached to pull them out and lifted her wristlet to near her mouth.

"Tell your wristlets 'enable translation,'" Angie directed. They offered questioning looks, but first Peter, then Carole followed suit.

"I hope we can be friends," Peter heard through his earbud but blinked because that wasn't what Angie had said. Carole looked at him, her mouth frozen open. The cute, young brunette's speech had been the same language he'd heard outside the meeting room before he met with Anna.

"It takes some getting used to, hearing someone speak and having that in your ear," Angie was back to her English; it wasn't so much accented as it was... monotonic, was the best word Peter could think of. But the earbud remained silent; it hadn't translated that.

"You can set it to the language you want to hear; if that's what's being spoken, it doesn't bother."

"Can I get mine to translate hick? Then I'll finally understand what this one says," Carole followed that with a laugh and nudged Peter, while Angie seemed at first to take that as a serious question before she chuckled.

"You only need one; whichever is in touch with your skin will work," Angie pulled her left earbud out, slipped it into a small breast pocket, and sealed it with the velcro strip, "I keep the extra in this pocket. If you're stuck without any, you can record with your wristlet, and it can use the speaker. But most everyone speaks at least some English."

The couple followed suit and put a single earbud into their pocket.

"Hey," Peter asked, "the recycler in there; what if we forget and put this in there?"

"It won't cycle," Angie laughed, "there's a sensor when you toss it in, it'll tell you."

They followed her lead, and she led them out of the room, Carole's first foray out since they'd been shown to their quarters that first day. 'Home' was at the end of a short hall. They shared it with other residences from the widely spaced identical doors. Or cells.

"That way," Angie pointed to the left as they stood at the tee intersection at the end of their access hall, "is offices and labs. Anna has something in mind for you, but we're not going there now."

"In mind? Anna implied she needed my help. Somehow..."

"Oh yes," Angie's face and manner were enthusiastic even if her voice didn't quite match, "but she hasn't told us exactly what."

"She's planned this? For a while?" Carole's light tone from a few moments earlier was gone, and Peter tried not to wince.

"Yes, a little while."

"Oh, hey, Angie," Peter said quickly to cut Carole off; she squinted at him for a moment but relaxed, "Are you and Kim sisters? You could be... twins. Although I think you're just a shade taller?"

"Let's go this way," she led them in the opposite direction from what she'd mentioned; the hallway had widely spaced doors along each side, "I'll show you the gym and the cafeteria. If you ever get lost, and it's easy to do, tell your wristlet where you want to go. It always knows where it is."

"And our place is?" Carole's question in a sarcastic tone.

"'Home,' of course. It set when we paired them." Angie hadn't seemed to notice or ignored Carole's tone.

The hallway wasn't quite wide enough to walk three abreast, so Peter trailed the two women; Carole's soft, dirty blonde curls and Angie's straight dark brown hair pulled into a ponytail bobbed in front of him. He had eight inches and a bit on the petite Carole, but Angie was only a few inches shorter than him, indeed a bit taller than the coffee savior Kim. He tried to hide his admiration of her ass, her garment the same sort of soft papery cloth he and Carole wore, but it was better fitted to her than to the recently arrived pair. The 'printer' offered choices for bras and other undergarments, but neither he nor Carole had bothered. Peter had slightly regretted that when Angie's entrance had made clear, her breasts were likewise unconstrained and as large as Carole's, the shapes of her nipples clear through the soft peach-colored fabric.

He forced his gaze up her back to the ponytail and tried to ignore the stir in his crotch. Did they put something in the air? He and Carole had fucked hard for a couple of hours, but his prick... yeesh, couldn't he control himself?

Then he had a more profound thought about the ass below that ponytail. It was nice... it was... human. He'd been immediately smitten with Anna, her stain and heterochromia. And her chest. Double D or so, almost perfect when she'd exposed them on Halloween and secured their pipeline of free alcohol at the Church. It had all sucked him in. But not so deep, he hadn't noticed. He'd just assumed at Halloween she'd had an injury; for some reason, her hips were... weird. Her arms, other movements. Just not... right. But this one? She and Carole. The same. Although Carole in flats? That was weird!

They came to a tee intersection. Angie pointed right and turned them. The hallways were unobstructed, but Peter noticed regularly spaced doors or barriers retracted into the walls or ceiling. Fire doors.

Or security doors? Probably both. And vacuum doors. The view of Earth through their 'cell' windows made the need for such precision. He'd also seen regularly spaced recessed handholds along the walls on both sides and in the ceiling. He had no idea how they generated gravity; movies and books used rotating space stations, but this was different. But the handholds offered refuge if that gravity was somehow lost. He'd been mercilessly teased for his interest in spaceships, science fiction, dinosaurs, and science in general by his immediate and extended family. But it had always been his refuge, the televised moon landings at ten years old in 1969 one of his happiest moments.

Who's laughing now?

"The gym is this way; it's well equipped. And has saunas and whirlpools."

Carole sniffed but didn't make an intelligent remark.

"Not sure," Peter said, and Angie turned slightly, "however you do it, the gravity on this sci-fi set is close to Earth's."

".98, like ho...," the brunette stopped mid-word and stayed silent.

'Ho...' 'Home' she meant. Not Earth. Home. This Angie and the coffee girl Kim? Their eyes. Both sets were green, like Carole, all nuts, but they were nothing like Anna. Then again, she had one green look.

"You and your sister, Angie," Peter said after a few moments of silence, "your English is better. She sounds... well, kind of like Anna. You sound... American. Mostly. How old are you two?"

Angie stopped at a set of double swinging doors and turned so she could face her charges.




To be continued