Sex, the Stars & Princess Simla

by Sally Hollister

  A senior navigator had been ejected from his cabin to make room for Simla and though a bed had been installed to replace his bunk, the bedding was still military issue and stiff, unsuitable for the soft skin of a Terran Princess. Despite that Simla soon drifted off to sleep after a rigorous day tramping the decks of the vast ship and learning its intricacies. She was used to being completely secure with Shap around but moments after entering her sleep cycle she sensed another presence in the room. Still half asleep she opened her eyes lazily and saw Yaf standing there. He was naked. He was not as slim as she’d first thought, with broad shoulders and strong thighs framing a tight waist. His swimming certainly kept him fit. She closed her eyes and opened them again. He was still there, and smiling. I’m dreaming, she thought, and closed her eyes again determined to enjoy her visitor. A hand brushed her cheek and she jumped up. “What the hell!”

  “Quiet, my love.”

  Shap, standing in the corner, moved towards her bed. “Mistress? Are you having a nightmare?”

  Simla looked from Yaf, seated on the edge of her bed, to Shap.

  “He can’t see me,” Yaf said.

  “What nonsense is this? Shap’s sensors can …”

  He put a finger to her lips to shush her and then replaced the finger with his own lips. The kisses were chaste but urgent and she swiftly opened her mouth and let him explore it. He took her shoulders in his strong hands and gently pushed her back on the bed, still kissing her. She could feel her heart-beat increasing. Finally, she pulled her mouth free.

  “Shap will kill you,” she hissed.

  “No he won’t. I’m not here.” It was obvious he didn’t wish conversation because he moved his kisses to her neck, sweeping her long, black hair away to allow him access. She lifted her chin and enjoyed the sensations. If this was a dream she was determined to enjoy it. She put her hands round his head and pulled him closer, running her fingers through his hair, encouraging his attentions.

  “My sweet Simla,” he whispered, reaching her ear and nibbling at the lobe.

  “Oh, my sweet Yaf,” she responded, enjoying the strength of his body as he nudged against her. He lifted the rough sheets and slipped in beside her, his body burning, his cock an iron bar against her hip. Instinctively she reached down and grabbed it, delighting in its urgent demanding thrusting. Yaf, in the meantime had moved down from her neck to her breasts and was licking her tiny nipples with broad laps of his tongue. This was lovely, but meant that he pulled his manhood away from her grasp. She bent to retrieve it and he took one nipple into his mouth and began sucking. The wonderful sensations travelled through her, down her belly, and gathered in an erotic fire in her groin. She thrust against him desperately. He switched to the other nipple and she felt her fluid trickling down to her ass from her pussy. This was the best dream she’d ever had, she moved her spare hand to her crotch and spread her lips, astonished at how wet he’d made her. She curled one of her legs round his thighs until he got the message and inserted it between hers, allowing her to rub her greedy lips against its hard muscles. Yaf moved to the next phase of their horizontal dance, kissing down her belly towards her pussy. She wanted it, and desperately, but felt that he’d taken the initiative for long enough. She released his cock, uncurled her leg and slithered down the bed quickly, before he had a chance to protest. She’d never sucked a dick before in her life, and had often wondered what it would be like. Despite that, she’d always known that she’d like it. Without wasting time on preliminary licking, which she planned for later, she engulfed the engorged head into her warm mouth and listened to his soft, grateful moan. His need must have been strong too, because he immediately grabbed her head and started thrusting at her, trying to fuck her face. The size of it in her mouth frightened her and she reacted again on instinct, gripping the shaft with the slim fingers of one hand, while the other snaked beneath to cup round his balls and try to control his passion. Unfortunately this only served to excite him further and he tried to thrust deep into her throat. She was almost in danger of gagging when he realised that this was no way to reach his objective. He grabbed her shoulders and dragged her up the bed, saliva still streaming down her chin.

  “My fine beauty,” he murmured, spreading her legs with his knee and moving to cover her. She was ready for it and gripped his shoulders while swivelling her hips to offer her lower mouth.

  “Love me now,” she commanded and he needed no further encouragement, lowering himself onto her. The bulbous head of his cock hesitated between her lips and she took the opportunity to rub her clit against it. But he kept on pushing and her lips opened to accommodate him. It slipped in silently, save for the sighs that escaped both their lips. It was everything she’d ever imagined, every adolescent dream, every youthful fantasy. She was woman.

  He began fucking her with long slow sweeps of his cock and she threw her head from side to side in ecstasy. “Oh Yaf, oh my darling.”

  In the room’s dim light she could barely see his face but the sheen of sweat building up on his chest was obvious. She rubbed her hands through it as he continued pumping into her.

  “You’re my first,” she whispered.

  “I know.”

  “I like it,” she confessed.

  “You were born to it,” he replied, increasing his pace.

  She pulled her legs further up till her knees came up to his chest.

  “Fuck me, my handsome.”

  “With pleasure.”

  And the hard, heavy thrusts continued pounding her into a paradise she’d never imagined. She felt her orgasm building.

  “Do you require medical assistance, mistress?” Shap’s metallic voice asked.

  Damn, Shap, she’d forgotten about him. “No, no, I’m fine.”

  But with the interruption the moment had gone, the great swell of her climax had ebbed and she felt bereft. Still, tears streamed down her face and they were not of any regret.

  “Come in me now, my Prince. Give me your pleasure.”

  And Yaf’s body shook as he moved faster and faster and faster till he stopped suddenly and a great shock wave seemed to sweep through his body as he raised himself on his arms above her. She felt his cock expand inside her and explode.

  He slumped on top of her, sharing their sweat and they slathered each other in kisses. He lay down beside her and she snuggled into the crook of his arm revelling in their closeness. The thrum of the ship’s engines vibrated soothingly through the ship and Simla, Princess of Old Earth sank into a deep sleep.

  V

  The following morning she awoke, alone and confused. Had the previous night really happened? Was she no longer a maiden? There was no time to investigate, she had slept in and was running late for the Captain ran a tight ship. Breakfast was at eight thirty and she was famished. She showered quickly, threw on her tunic and kilt and made her way down the long corridors to dine at the Captain’s table. Yaf was already there, tearing into a plate of scrambled eggs, but he and the Captain stood as she entered. They bowed and she curtsied, setting the tone.

  “Good morning, milady,” the Captain said, hastily putting down a rasher of bacon he had speared on his fork. “Did you sleep well? We would have waited but …”

  “I was starving and insisted we start,” Yaf finished. “I told the Captain here that you don’t like to stand on ceremony, so we might as well take advantage of it.”

  “Most ungallant, I know,” the Captain blustered into his greying moustache , but Simla waved them back to their seats and pulled up a chair. The Captain’s steward brought fresh food and poured her coffee and soon Simla was pigging in with the others.

  They were just finishing their breakfast when a female rating, trim in her sky-blue Pendoran navy uniform came running into the Captain’s mess and saluted. “Report from the bridge, sir. Ship approaching fast, from the stern.”

  “The stern?” the Captain bellowed.

  The rating looked shame-faced. “She’s catching us, sir.”

  “Catchin
g us? The Robin’s the fastest damned ship in the sector. Who is it?”

  “Unknown. There’s no ID signal.”

  The Captain pushed his chair away and rose. “No ID? That’s a breach of every space-faring regulation.” He looked down at Simla. “Can these be your aliens so soon?”

  She thought about it for the merest second before shaking her head. “No, I don’t think so, not unless they’re specifically pursuing me, which I doubt. We have four inhabited worlds between us and them.”

  “Yellow alert,” the Captain commanded. “And fire a salvo of signals at that ship and ask them what their game is, scaring honest spacemen at their breakfast.”

  “It could just be a freighter with a damaged transmitter,” Yaf volunteered, but the Captain shot him down. “A freighter that can catch the Robin when she’s under full steam? I doubt it.”

  Simla liked the Captain’s reference to full steam. She doubted if he’d ever seen an actual steam engine, as she had, in an Old Earth museum. But the term showed a respect for the past which she appreciated.

  “I’d best to the bridge, a Captain’s place and all that. I’d order you to your cabins as your status requires, but I’ve no doubt you want to see what’s going on. If you’ve finished.”

  Yaf and Simla jumped up together and almost collided with each other in their eagerness, but Shap’s strong arms reached out and kept them upright.

  The rating marched ahead of them to the bridge and Simla noticed Yaf’s gaze.

  “Get your eyes off her ass, you lecher.”

  “I can’t help it, I have a thing for uniforms. And it is a nice ass.”

  She had to agree, the spacewoman was a well-formed little thing with a perky bounce and made Simla feel heavy and cumbersome. Only for an instant though for Yaf added, “Not as nice as yours, of course.”

  On the bridge the crew were ranged at their stations and various monitors showed a brightening blip approaching.

  “Our pursuer?” Yaf asked.

  “That’s her,” the First Officer replied, “and if she keeps up her speed she’ll pass us in half and hour.”

  The Captain took his chair and scanned his displays. “Are we running on full? No problems with the engines?”

  His questions were answered in the positive and made the old man growl. “Still nothing from them?” he asked his comm. officer.

  “Nothing, but they’re definitely receiving our transmissions.”

  “Arm the stern guns,” the Captain ordered quietly.

  “Is that necessary, sir?” Simla asked.

  “I’ll let him come to within 100,000 miles and then I’ll put one across his bow just to get his attention. She may have speed on me, but from the size of her I doubt she’s got the firepower to take on the Robin.”

  “Do not fire, Captain,” Shap said, “it is a ship from Old Earth, a Star Skipper.”

  “A what? And how do you know?”

  “I have been analysing its motion on your view screens. Its flight pattern identifies it as a Star Skipper, a new drive technology which rides gravity waves, developed on Old Earth.”

  “Wait a minute,” Yaf interrupted angrily, “Simla said only two days ago that there hadn’t been any technological developments on the Twelve Worlds for years. And now we have your weapon-defying armour and a new star drive.”

  Shap swivelled his metal head towards him. “Research and development amongst the scientific community has not ceased on Old Earth, First Minister. New products have not been brought to market because there has been no demand.”

  “Well there is now,” the Captain said, springing from his chair. “I want a ship with the android’s armour and that little gnat’s drive. With a ship like that I could …” he stopped suddenly, realising that the bridge crew had all turned to stare at his outburst. He retreated to his chair. “And I want a new up-to-date crew instead of all these old has-beens.”

  Simla smiled and turned to Shap. “Can you signal the Star Skipper?” she asked and the android moved towards the comm. desk.

  Yaf took the opportunity to whisper in her ear. “Any other modern marvels you’re keeping from us old-fashioned colonials?”

  “I didn’t know, Yaf, I swear. Not about the Skipper drive thing, and I imagined Shap’s superior armor was a one-off to protect all us Princesses.

  Shap turned from the comm. desk. “They will not communicate save to confirm that they come from the Great Father on Old Earth with a message for the Princess.”

  “I hope it doesn’t mean trouble,” Yaf said.

  “The only trouble could be a Riaz attack and I can’t believe they’ve reached us already. It would mean they had armies and navies on permanent alert, ready to attack whoever they encountered.”

  “I have further information. Mistress. I believe I know who is aboard that craft.”

  “Ye Gods, the bugger’s telepathic too,” the Captain commented.

  “No, sir, I am not. But the codes I transmitted to the little ship identified who I was, and the reply was in rhyme.”

  “Rhyme?” they chorused.

  “It is a fancy of the occupant of that craft. I believe it to be Elfi Vilek.”

  “Never heard of her,” Yaf said.

  “Elfi is one of Old Earth’s greatest scientists,” Simla clarified. “And there is also a family connection.”

  “From your family?” the Captain said loudly, “Does the Great Father have no concern for his daughters to send them off to wander in droves through open space?”

  Simla laughed. “No, Captain, she is not a sister of mine. I meant that she was of Shap’s family. She is his mother.”

  Dr Elfi Vilek, when she came aboard, having parked her tiny ship in the Robin’s hold, was a tiny, thirtyish, woman, with cropped blonde hair and Simla was overjoyed to see her. They hugged and kissed each other like the old friends they were, Simla bending down and barely avoiding lifting the little woman off her feet. Elfi seemed to appreciate her welcome but her eyes never left Shap, standing behind Simla. Eventually, having been introduced to Yaf and Captain Thrane, she asked to have a moment with the android.

  “Shap,” she said, “Recognise?”

  “Dr. Elfi Vilek,” Shap replied.

  “Sigma, code twelve, thirteen, eighty two, nine, alpha, alpha.”

  “Received.”

  “Calculate.”

  “Insufficient information.”

  “Gamma, Alpha, sixty eight, fifteen, twenty four, Beta, Beta, Omega.”

  “Received.”

  “Response.”

  The android paused. “No conflict.”

  Her brow furrowed. “We must speak later. But now I have information for Simla.”

  “Problem, Doc?” the younger woman asked.

  “I will speak to you privately about Shap.” She pulled an info-disc from her inside pocket. “I have information on the Riaz, if I could have access to a computer. Privacy would be preferred.”

  “My cabin, if you wish,” the Captain offered.

  They made there way there and Elfi immediately took command of the occasion. “I asked for privacy because the information I have brought is not for public consumption unless authorised by Princess Simla. It includes holo images of the Riaz race and some may find them disturbing. The Great Father has decided that you should judge if this information is made publicly available on your travels, Simla. As you know, he is keen to avoid any sense of panic and these images may very well aggravate the chances of that.”

  “My God, what kind of monsters are they?” the Captain asked.

  “See for yourself.” Elfi inserted her disc into the computer’s reader and it automatically threw an image into the monitor cube. Everyone except Elfi and Shap gasped in horror.

  “The image of the human being is, of course, superimposed to give scale. No human has ever actually met a Riaz.” She flicked to the next image. “Again, the smaller ship, the largest ever built on Old Earth, is there for scale. The Riaz ship is six and a half times its length.”


  “Go back to the Riaz guy,” Simla ordered.

  The Doctor flicked back to the previous image and Simla moved towards the cube and traced the image of the Riaz with her finger tips.”

  “Over seven feet.”

  “Nearly eight.”

  “And those are tusks?”

  “As well as fangs. And look at those claws, they look as if they could shear steel.”

  “He won’t win any beauty competitions,” the Captain said nervously.

  “We shouldn’t judge them by human standards, he’s probably a very handsome chap.”

  “That’s one of their females,” the Doctor revealed.

  “Dear God, they are monsters,” the Captain hissed. “You can’t let the people see this, it’ll frighten them to death.”

  Elfi ignored his interruption. “The males are smaller than the females and seem to exist only for breeding. The females run their society. Scientists, politicians, warriors, all female.”

  “Go, sisters,” Simla commented humorlessly.

  “Very detailed information for an interstellar probe,” the Captain remarked.

  “Our first probes were designed to gather scientific data only and were never meant to be secret,” Elfi explained, “but the ones we send now are tiny and ideal spies. The Riaz have never detected one, which implies that they have no knowledge or fear of covert activities.”

  “One weakness then,” Yaf acknowledged.

  “We can’t make hard and fast decisions without much more information,” Simla said in a tone that was not to be argued with. “All we have are pieces of a jigsaw, but no idea of the final picture.”

  “Yes,” the Captain agreed, “what are their numbers, their population, their weaponry? What size is their fleet? What advanced technologies do they have?”

  “We will have it all, in time,” Elfi calmed.

  The sat and stared in silence at the fearsome Riaz.

  “They’ve made no direct threat yet? Yaf asked.

  “No, they continue their friendly overtures. They don’t seem to have any idea that we’ve seen through their façade.”

  “But what are they?” the Captain asked, “Even the Bron and Telfa are humanoid and mammalian.”