Intruder · Part 1

Intruder · Part 1 (1/2)
Next

An Intruder takes over Starship Invincible for some BDSM fun.

The Star Council Starship Invincible is exploring the furthest reaches of the galaxy when it encounters a unique lifeform which takes over the bodies of the crew members. The female crew members are bound naked to various BDSM devices. The male crew members are then forced to do what many males would do normally when presented with bound, squirming, extremely turned on females. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Captain David Humatha ran down the corridor toward the high speed gravity tube that would take him down the fourteen levels to the bridge. He shouted into his comlink to be heard over the loud alarms and the sound of running spaceboots which was echoing all around him in the hallway. Between loud squawks, the alarm was repeatedly shouting in a mechanically calm, and yet very urgent voice, “Level Three Intruder Alert. Level Three Intruder Alert. All crew to battle stations. All families to shielded shelters.”

“Who called the alert?” the Captain yelled into his comlink as he stepped onto the disk in the gravity tube. The tube recognized him and already knew his destination, so it dropped the disk, with him standing on it, the nearly sixty meters to the bridge level. Gravity tubes took some getting used to. You dropped or rose at greater than the speed of free fall but the disk beneath your feet slowed your fall– or ascent– and stopped at the proper level. Actually, the tubes would function without the disks, but stepping into an open tube and dropping hundreds of meters, even for an experienced spacer, was a rather daunting task. It also took some finesse, when you arrived at your destination, to push yourself out of the tube with just your hands, so the designers put disks in the tubes to provide a floor and give more of an impression of an elevator.

Gravity tubes are very fast. Captain Humatha was stepping onto the bridge by the time Ensign Tagusha replied, “I did.”

The captain walked quickly across the bridge, stepped up to the almost trembling ensign, and said forcefully, “What happened to the command officers?”

There should always be two command-level officers on the bridge. If an alert was needed, First Officer Lucille Morbsby should have been the one to make such a decision. And if she was incapacitated or temporarily off the bridge for some reason, Executive Officer Martura Combs would have had the responsibility to initiate a level three alarm.

Level three alarms were the highest possible. If the computer system detected an intrusion, it would initiate a level one or two alarm, but it took a command officer to raise that alarm to level three. There had been no computer detection. Ensign Tagusha, who had manually ordered the Level Three Intruder Alert, looked at his captain with wide eyes and a blank expression on his face.

“Well?!” Captain Humatha thundered, “Where are they?”

Ensign Tagusha opened and closed his mouth, but no words came out as he weakly pointed to the open area of the bridge behind the captain. Captain Humatha turned quickly around and gasped loudly as he saw to what the ensign was pointing. It takes a lot to make a starship captain gasp, but the sight of his two senior officers tied naked to a large, wooden, X-shaped frame mounted on an equally large metal base was enough to cause such an involuntary exclamation.

First Officer Lucille Morbsby was tied facing the cross. Her hands were pulled high and tight above her head, while her feet were pulled wide apart and lashed to the base of the wooden X. The dark wood of the cross created a contrasting background to Lucille’s almost paper white skin. Light reflecting off the thin sheen of perspiration which covered her entire body caused her skin to appear even whiter.

Executive Officer Martura Combs was bound facing outward on the other side of the cross. Her black skin nearly blended into the dark wood of the X to which they were both bound. Her skin was also covered with a thin sheen of perspiration which in her case made her look even darker. There was also an obvious trail of thicker fluids running down the insides of her legs. Both officers were moaning loudly and squirming in their bonds.

“Who did this?” the captain yelled loudly.

“No one,” the ensign said softly. “They were just suddenly like that. I triggered the alarm before something could happen to me….” He lowered his head and slumped his shoulders as he added, “… But it didn’t.”

“You sound disappointed,” Captain Humatha said curtly.

“No… yes… no…” the ensign sputtered. “I mean, it was attacking the bridge officers. Why did it leave me alone? Am I not an officer?”

The captain took in a deep breath and then let it out slowly. “I don’t think it was going after officers,” he said in that overly calm way an experienced spacer speaks when in trouble. In fact, the more serious the trouble, the calmer an experienced spacer will sound. Captain Humatha’s voice was very, very calm as he pointed to the other side of the bridge and said, “I think they are after the women.”

Ensign Tagusha turned around very slowly. His gasp was more of a squeak as he saw the other two females on the bridge, one of the navigators and the on-duty bridge engineer, tied to dark wooden frames.

Brula Markly, a navigator, was bound over what appeared to be a padded sawhorse mounted on a large, circular base. There were tie-down rings attached to the metal base on both sides of the horse. On one side, her feet were bound, widely spread, to the floor close to the base of the horse. On the other side, her arms were pulled far out from the base of the horse and spread about as wide as the horse itself. Her position caused her cunt and ass to be displayed on one side of the horse while her somewhat large breasts hung free between her arms on the other side.

Brula’s skin was somewhere between the pasty white of First Officer Morbsby’s and the dusky brown of the XO’s. Bound as she was, it was possible to see that her areola and the moon around her asshole were both very dark. It was also possible to see that she was leaking vaginal fluids as she moaned and thrashed against her restraints as if some invisible lover were working very hard at turning her on.

Next to her, bound to a strange, shelf-like apparatus, was Fin Gtho, Second Engineer of the Invincible. Fin was kneeling, if you could call it that, on a shelf that was a few inches off the ground. Her lower legs were bound to the shelf with what appeared to be leather which crossed over her calves and held them firmly to the padded shelf. A second, heavily-padded shelf was exactly at her waist level. She was bent over it and held in place by a large leather band over the small of her back. The shelf appeared to end– or become extremely narrow– at the base of her chest. The narrow piece then continued up between her breasts to just short of her throat.

Despite her Terran Oriental features, Fin had extremely large breasts. There was much speculation among the crew as to whether or not she had purchased DNA sequencing treatments to obtain those mammaries or was naturally blessed with them. In any case, her ponderous breasts were proudly displayed as they hung down from the restraint frame. Surprisingly, her nipples were not darker than her skin, but were instead an almost bright shade of pink.

Fin’s arms were pulled out in almost a cruciform position and bound to two padded poles which stuck up from the base of the shelves at approximately a forty-five degree angle. Two more poles just behind them intersected several inches above the center of her back. Her straight, black hair was knotted together with a shiny, black rope of some sort and tied to a ring on those poles. The effect was to pull her head back so that she was looking straight forward. Her eyes were wide and rolling as she gasped and moaned as if someone– or something– were driving her sexually higher and higher.

“This is the Captain speaking,” Captain Humatha said over the ship-wide comlink. “We seem to have been boarded by unknown alien intruders who are not visible to us at this time. There have been, however, several anomalous attacks on female members of the bridge crew. Report status and anything unusual through normal chain of command…. Out.”

“What do you think is going on?” Ensign Tagusha said, trying to keep the fear out of his voice.

“Captain…” another voice interrupted. “We are getting reports from all active decks of… uh… anomalous attacks on female crew members.” Communications officer, Ensign Dwayne Tiffin nodded toward where navigator Markly was bound over the spanking horse and cleared his throat loudly before continuing. “It appears,” he said flatly, “that the attacks are similar to what has occurred here on the bridge.”

He paused as he listened to the comlink which he pressed more tightly into his right ear. He, and the rest of the bridge crew, was holding their breaths waiting for his next report. Finally, he let out a long slow breath and said with obvious relief, “All family decks report no anomalies.”

The captain walked across the deck to where Brula Markly was bound. He reached out and stroked her quivering ass cheek, causing a deep, guttural moan to escape from her lips. “The question,” he said, “is why are all these women bound this way?”

As if in answer to his question, his own clothing disappeared from his body, to be instantly replaced by a strange leather outfit consisting of black pants, a black vest, and heavy black boots. The new clothing was very tight-fitting. His more than ample package was obvious in the tight pants, and the open vest revealed his chiseled six pack.

Captain Humatha looked down at his body and raised his eyebrows in appreciation. He was well endowed, but the bulge between his legs hinted at some sort of augmentation of his maleness. He was also in very good physical condition, but such sculpted abs were only found on much younger men who had both the time and the determination to sculpt them with vigorous daily exercise.

A startled gasp from behind him caused him to turn around. Ensign Yagu Tagusha was staring down at his pasty white body. The coloring of his skin had not changed, but the muscles beneath it definitely had. Tagusha’s body was usually abnormally thin, giving him the appearance of a walking ghost or skeleton. Now there were rippling muscles beneath that white skin. And the bulge in his black leather pants was no less prodigious than the captain’s.

“From the physical upgrades,” the captain said calmly, “it would appear that our intruders are expecting us to be a part of some weird BDSM sex scene.”

“Cap… tain,” the ensign stuttered out. A large leather paddle had appeared in his hand. “I’m not in control of my body,” he said slowly. His fear was causing his voice to waver slightly.

“This is the captain speaking,” Captain Humatha said loudly into his comlink. “Computer priority command code November, Uniform, Niner, Niner, Six, Alpha, Five.” He paused as if struggling to speak, then continued slowly with great effort, “Computer, put all ship’s systems on safety protocol zero, zero, zero, zero. Authorization code, Whiskey, Tango, Foxtrot, India, Golf, Oscar.”

He grimaced slightly as he gave the authorization code. WTFIGO had been sort of a joke when he set up the protocol commands– What The Fuck Is Going On– but now that he actually had to authorize this extreme command, he could see no humor in the letters.

The lights dimmed slightly and the hum of machinery and equipment faded to a dull murmur as the ship went nearly quiet. Almost all functions except life support and communications were now locked out and, after a short burst of the engines, all forward motion was ceased. They now effectively drifted, motionless in space.

Protocol zero, zero, zero, zero was a preplanned emergency setting should the ship ever be taken out of the control of the crew by an intruder. The only protocol more severe was niner, niner, niner, nine– self destruct. Unlike the self-destruct, however, no one on board The Invincible could countermand the lock-out protocol or reactivate any of the locked out systems. It would take an external signal from a fleet command-level Space Council ship to override the lockout… or activate the self-destruct.

A brilliant flash of light visible from the command deck assured the captain that an ultra-burst distress signal had been sent back to the nearest star base. A muffled “whoosh” and a trail of fire confirmed that an emergency log capsule had also been launched. The ultra-burst would be received in a few days. The log capsule would take many months to arrive at the distant star base, but would more likely be picked up in much less time by the rescue ships which would soon be on their way. The rescue ships themselves, however, still would not arrive at the Invincible for five to seven months, even at full emergency speed. When you are exploring the outer reaches of the galaxy, help is not hours– or even days– away, and rescue is usually a matter of searching for survivors who might still be alive in life pods.

“Whoever, or whatever, you are,” the captain said loudly, “you cannot gain control of the ship. And if we are not released and fully in control of the Invincible by the time the rescue ships arrive, their only choices will be permanent quarantine… or destruction.”

“We do not need your ship,” a voice replied. Captain Humatha was unsure whether it came from the console speakers or was just from inside his head. It continued, “And we will be gone long before your rescue fleet arrives.”

He remained silent, but Communications Officer Tiffin, spoke up. “What do they want?” he asked nervously.

The ensign was still at his communications console, but he, too, was now dressed in a black outfit similar to the captain’s. For some reason, that outfit, in addition to Dwayne’s disheveled mop of bright orange hair and a slightly darker orange beard, made him look like he would be more at home on a pirate ship from days of yore.

Intruder · Part 1 (1/2)
Next