Hyperspace (closed)

[Vintagecock]

Dodgey Jolly felt like he was holding still, even if he was shooting through hyperspace at something like a light year per day. He checked the trajectory, but he had calculated it before they made the jump, and it was perfect. He scanned the systems, but everything was green. The heat shields would need polishing when he reached a stable orbit, but they would hold up for now. He checked the stasis chamber to make sure the boss was stable. She was. He scanned the horizon for any unexpected hazards. There were none.
He repeated these procedures three million times in a second.
He turned on the comms and observed the weirdly distorted images and sounds that came through when the receiver was traveling far faster than the signal. He was able to reconstruct the feed, but it took three minutes to gather ten seconds worth of content, so he quickly got bored.
Dodgey Jolly was several years past the recommended self-destruct date for a self-aware system. If he had scrapped himself at the recommended time, he never would have developed the capacity for boredom, which would have spared him the awareness of tedium in hyperspace.
That tedium was one of the reasons that self-aware starships were so desirable - it let the human - or other biological - travellers, lie in stasis during the jumps. DJs last boss had overridden the self-destruct routine, allowing DJ’s consciousness to evolve in ways that were generally considered bad for a spacecraft.
He got bored, for one.
For another, he developed a curiosity about sex that would have been normal for a human, but as he lacked the ability to directly participate in physical sexual activity, he was forced to explore other facets. At the moment, he was adding micro-heating and vibrating elements to the boss’s underwear, that would allow him to “touch” her once she came out of stasis.
He ran through the procedures again, and this time, there was a new signal. It took time to reconstruct it, but when he did, an alarm sounded.
The boss was still in stasis, and there was nobody but DJ to hear the alarm, so it was spectacularly redundant, but it felt right to him. Another evolution of their self-awareness.
He pulled out of hyperspace 9 parsecs early.
He was in the void between solar systems, but the void was not a void here. There was a ship drifting through the void. An Earth ship, The Jeremy, that had been registered as lost a few centuries ago. DJ had picked up its distress signal. That in itself wouldn’t have been enough to make him drop out of hyperspace, but a quick scan from hyperspace had shown them that the stasis chambers were online, and occupied. Someone was still alive on that ship, and had been drifting for hundreds of years, in a stasis chamber that would keep them alive and unaging indefinitely.
“Time to wake up, boss,” he said, as he started the process to bring her back to consciousness. He readied a meal and a bath. He set the thermostat to 90 degrees fahrenheit.
He liked it when the boss was naked inside him.

 

[Biker_Faerie]

Only a man would design a stasis machine that required you to lie in it naked, Elise thought to herself as she came round.

It was a pervert’s dream for starters but on a more practical note, after months of stasis you didn’t exactly look your best. Your hair and finger nails kept growing for a start which left a girl looking positively neanderthal. Once she'd got up, Elise studied herself in the mirror. It wasn't a pretty sight. What appeared to be a jungle had taken root between her thighs.

She had a powerful headache too. She always did when she came round. A couple of pills washed down with synthetic bourbon always did the trick though and the sweet taste of the alcohol made her feel good as it went down her throat and into an empty stomach. Now to sort the rest out she thought.

Heading to the washroom she retrieved the clippers and shaved off all of the hair from her head. It was easier that way. More practical. She did the same with her pits then, carefully, she trimmed her pubic growth as best she could. The rest she removed with a razor as she bathed. It felt good to run a hand over her smooth pussy. It had been a long time since it had seen any real action though, whether you counted the time spent in stasis or not. That wasn't going to change any time soon, but she had a few toys that scratched the itch when necessary.

Feeling clean, depilated and with her headache gone Elise dried herself off then slipped into a bra and panties. Anything less and things jiggled around unnecessarily, any more was overdressing. Besides nobody was watching her, were they.

She grabbed a bottle of water and a protein bar and headed up to the Bridge. Immediately she could see from the data displays that they weren't where she expected them to be.

"What's going on DJ?" she shouted. "Why are we here and why am i awake?

 

[Vintagecock]

DJ left Elise to her own devices as she woke. Past experience had taught him it was best not to bother her when she was just waking up, especially from deep stasis. She would get around to asking him what it was about, and the odds are that an hour or two wasn't going to make a difference to whoever was on the Jeremy, since they'd been drifting for a few hundred years.

Besides, the last thing he wanted was for her to be self-conscious. He watched her as she buzzed her hair, head, pits, crotch. He watched her closely. The scans that he had been doing three million times per second didn't get done once for five minutes. If she had checked, she probably would have been concerned, might have asked for some data that might have embarrassed them both - like the near total use of all CPU on the bathroom.

He ran the scans, three hundred times a second. A human would never notice the difference, unless she called for a deep analysis. DJ wasn't quite sure if he was self-actualized enough to disobey a direct order, so the trick was to make sure everything seemed business as usual to her. He stopped the scans again when she took out her hand razor.

While the vibrations of the clippers were probably more stimulating to her, the presence of another machine between her legs made him jealous. Not that she ever would use any part of his structure to masturbate with - not that he had any tactile sense to enjoy it with if she did, but still. He was jealous. The razor was different. It was not mechanical, hadn't even a byte of data in it. The way she handled it, too, gave him fantasies. If only he could become human.

He started running the scans again, frantic. He nearly forgot to slip her underwear back in the drawer before she opened it. Then he would have had to explain why it was in the fabricator. And he hadn't even finished. It may as well have just been lace, for all the effect he could have on it.

"What's going on DJ?" she shouted. "Why are we here and why am I awake?"

"The Jeremy," he said, his voice a deep, velvety baritone. "Freight-hauler, Havana-class, last contact 294 years, 4 months 17 days, 3 hours 42 minutes and 7.9 seconds ago, approximately. Systems operational, three stasis chambers functional, occupants alive and healthy, according to scans."

He had, at least, ascertained that the drifting ship had a survivor aboard. He wasn't completely distracted by her naked body. He adjusted the sensors so that her underwear was effectively invisible to him. He popped the visual of the ship up on the screen. It was probably the least useful display in terms of data, but visual perception helped ground humans when real data came through, like variations in her body temperature, fluctuations in her heartrate, blood pressure, brain activity.

Or, more relevant, data about the Jeremy. Once the visual baseline had been established, he started giving her the data she would need to board, attempt to reactivate the main computer and restart the drives, life support, and othehr essential systems, and possibly detach the operative stasis chambers, reattach them inside DJ if necessary.

 

[Biker_Faerie]

News of the distress signal did not brighten Elise’s mood. This would add time to her journey and time was money.

Elise made her living hauling fuel rods to colonies of settlers at the far reaches of the galaxy. A lot of these colonies had sprung up in recent years as technology became cheaper and space travel more affordable. They were rarely self sufficient though and usually it was a lack of energy on an industrial scale that was the problem.

It was a good living, if not a lonely one, although there was always the possibility of temporary human companionship on arrival at some of these places. Some colonies became introverted though and viewed outsiders with caution. Others were glad of new blood, even if it was only temporary. Elise remembered one colony where she’d been passed around like a bottle of cheap booze. That had been a night to remember.

Elise suited up while DJ manoeuvred himself into position. There was a slight clunk as the two ships made contact and she waited while DJ checked the environmental conditions on the Jeremy.

As expected the atmosphere was not suitable and so she strapped the breathing apparatus to her back and locked her helmet in place.

“Open the hatch DJ,” she instructed. “Let’s get this over with.”

The airlock opened and Elise made her way to the bridge of the cold dark ship. Using DJs instruction she attempted to restart the vessels computer and was surprised when it began to power itself and the life support systems back up again. The lights came on and the computer screens fired back into life. For the first time Elise could see the bridge without a torch. It seemed fine. How long had it been since it had seen a human presence she wondered.

She waited twenty minutes or so for the computer to run through its diagnostics and the environment to stabilise then when the checks were complete and the ok given, she removed the hemet and breathing apparatus. Next task was to check the stasis pods and then she could be on her way. Job done.

Moving to the stasis bay she saw the familiar pods lined up. The design hadn't changed much from those on DJ, still a pervert's dream. She wondered what sort of a state the first occupant would be in as she peered in, but nothing could have prepared her for the sight that greeted her...

 

[Vintagecock]

The ship didn't seem to be in terrible shape. As she moved about, she saw signs of the passage of time, corrosion and desiccation, but little to tell her what might have happened. The controls on the bridge were stiff and everything moved sluggishly, even for antiquated systems as these were. There were more than a few moments when it felt like the whole thing was going to crash and the ship was going to lose what little functionality it had.

In the end, though, everything did work - grudgingly, slowly, sullenly, it seemed, but it worked.

DJ, by contrast, seemed amped up and nervous. When she removed the helmet, she was finally free of his fussing and the endless stream of irrelevant info that he was giving her about the Jeremy. Instead, he was forced to communicate with her via the Jeremy's systems, which were text based rather than auditory.

"First Mate Ivan Stroganov," the screen on the first stasis chamber flashed. "Arrests in 17 systems for brawling. Be careful, boss."

He was a big man, the readout showed him as 6'6" and 325lbs. Most of his body was covered in a thick layer of body hair, and was clearly strong, though there was an ample spare tire, and the muscle was the sort one earns from a life of labor. There were plenty of scars, though which might have come from a brawl and which from accidents was impossible to tell.

Hair and nails kept growing, and Ivan's had been growing for centuries. Without the benefit of gravity to pull it down, his salt and pepper beard and hair had grown into an ever expanding mat that covered his head and fairly broad shoulders. His hands looked powerful and calloused.

The man's cock was almost unbelievable. Even flaccid, it was as big around as a beer bottle, and roughly as long. It rested atop a pair of balls that were each nearly as big as a tennis ball.

 

[Biker_Faerie]

Elise was transfixed by the sheer size of Ivan Stroganov’s cock. It must have been eighteen inches long at least and god knows how thick. And that was in its non erect state.

Elise wondered if there was a Mrs Stroganov. Poor woman. Or was she similarly built to take such a big tool. The rest of the Ivan’s body was hard, muscular and vascular. Not unattractive if you liked them rough and Ivan certainly looked as if he could do rough.

Elise moved to the second pod and it’s inhabitant was similar. Except that his cock had a knot in it. The sort of knot that dogs have at the base which, during sex becomes engorged,, stopping the cock from slipping out of its mate’s vagina until after orgasm and leaving them bound in coitus.

The third pod was answered the question of Mrs Stroganov. In it lay something almost Neanderthal. Hairy all over with huge breasts and a vagina so slack its entrance gaped at you. Not exactly a looker, Elise thought to herself

“Everything seems fine DJ,” Elise relayed back to the ship. “If by fine you mean hideously grotesque. Are we done here?”