The Adult Story Hub

This is copyright (c) 1997. It can be distributed freely as long as no charge is made for it and it isn't changed in any way. If it is archived it is on the basis that I have unrestricted access to the archive. Email me if you have constructive criticism, or if you like it and want more.
By Spoonbender (spoonbender@hotmail.com)

"Shields down to 5 per cent commander." Screamed the Weapons officer.
"Engine room divert more power to the shields."
"I'm sorry Commander the inversion chamber has been damaged. I don't think Aaaaaaaaaaaargh..."
There was a crash and the ship shook and tumbled through the sky like a leaf before the inertial stabiliser dampers kicked back on line.
"Engine room, Damage report? Where are you Sneed?"
The voice sounded faint. "He's dead sir, they'll all dead. We're all going to die."
Danajane was terrified. What had she done to deserve this? She was a scientist not a fighter. A very junior geological mapper and this was her first tour of duty. This was a supposed to be a simple surveying expedition, mapping out the geology of a promising looking planet which, hopefully, could be used to provide much needed colonisation space for a burgeoning human population. Then came the signal for them to return to Station Theta. The peace talks with the Morgons had broken down and rumour has it that their 6th battlefleet was in this quadrant.
So they had dropped their survey probes and hightailed it. They were only two light years away from the station when one, by one, the entire Morgon battlefleet had materialised. In front of them, behind them, around them. They had fought the good fight but were hopelessly outgunned by the strato-destroyers.
Suddenly there was a huge crash and a rolling wave of flames as the doors disintegrated under the rays of the Morgon firethrowers. Danajane clasped her hands over her head and sunk to the floor screaming as the battle raged around her.

"How many prisoners?"
"One?"
Harkass raised his left mandible. "Just one?"
"They fought hard Sir and there were no other females on board."
"Bring her to me." Harkass snapped.
She was paraded shaking and terrified in front of him. He looked down at her and then buzzed closer. She had a small compact body, with a fresh radiant beauty. A fresh peach at the peak of perfection. But to his eyes she was puny and weak and would be hard pushed to withstand the rigours of her forthcoming servitude.
"So little one what is your name?"
All she could hear was a series of grunts, whistles and pops. None of which were very intelligible.
"I'm a scientist, not a fighter. Please don't hurt me."
"Get the translation phones Skark. How these puny creatures ever hope to colonise space when they can't even perform simple translations is beyond me."
They placed the phones on her head. They were a bit awkward as they had been designed for races with three ear cavities, but they sufficed.
"Who are you?" Karkass asked again.
"My name is Danajane and I am a scientist from the survey vessel.."
"SILENCE. I am not interested in where you are from, just what you are. Are you a virgin?"
"What er I er why do you want to know?"
Missilwhips are very effective. Designed for herding the stubborn, thick skinned and tempestuous missilcows they proved devestating across the backside of a stubborn little human female. Danajane screamed piteously as the formic acid from the million little needles punctured her flesh. It was like being stung by a thousand jellyfish at once.
"I am getting angry. Now are you a virgin?"
"Yes." She whimpered.
A collective sigh went up over the amorphous blob that formed the bridge crew of the Morgon destroyer.
"Strip her."
"No please." Screamed Danajane fearing the worst, even though she knew that Morgons bred by osmosis. A single, controlled shot from the firethrower burned her clothes off, without so much as singeing a single hair on her body.
Harkass gazed at her nearly nude crotch. Most of the female captives had thickets of hair down there, now he had one with just a small clump of fiery red tufts to match the blaze of her head. Fire red it seemed appropriate somehow.
This one can be the new bridge shield. He was looking forward to thinking about her when he engaged the puny galactic fleet they had despatched against him.
"Bridge forward one position." Shouted Harkass.
A cloud of pink gas descended on her and bore her away.

The other females looked exhausted. They hung in their harnesses covered in sweat and gasping for air.
Danajane was quickly manoevered into position to match that of the other females in the long dismal corridor. Her arms were strapped onto poles that stuck out from the clammy wall of the ship and her backside was positioned on a U shaped seat. Then her legs were bent down and strapped at the thigh, knee and ankle leaving her spread wide in humiliating shame. A tube was positioned just in front of her mouth. They then spent some time lining up a bulky looking machine over her body. Finally they strapped her waist firmly to the side of the ship. The pink cloud dissipated and she hung in her straps.
One by one the dazed women regained their composure. Then the one opposite raised her head and regarded Danajane.
"So you are the result of the fight hey?"
"Yes I'm Danajane. What are you er we all doing here."
"I am firstgun top formally known as Seethmantrica. What is your position?"
"What do you mean?"
"What did they say before you were brought down here?"
"Er, Bridge forward one position, I think."
"So you will be a busy girl. A very busy girl. You are not a virgin are you?"
Danajane blushed. "Er yes. Why does everyone want to know?"
One of the other women laughed, a bitter, ironic, cackle. "It is Harkass's Joke, putting a virgin into Bridge Forward one. He knows she will be in pain, it strengthens the shield."
"Don't mind Cargocover two. She's been here too long."
"Er, Seethmantrica, can I ask you a question."
"Don't call us by our previous names it is forbidden. I am firstgun top and you are bridge forward one. Do you understand?"
"Yes?"
"So what is your question?"
"Why are we here?"
"A good question bridge forward one. We are supplying a very valuable commodity for the Morgons. You see they need a certain compound in order for their shields to be effective, they searched the universe for it then, by chance, they found a unique source of that compound. Which was available in liberal quantities when the conditions were right. They needed the compound for use in their continuing war with the Quageelers. Which is why they were bothering to negotiate with the Humans at all. They had a basic understanding between the two species but then the talks broke down because they couldn't agree on the quantity of the compound generators that were to be supplied."
"Has this compound got anything to do with why we're here?"
"It has everything to do with why we're here!"
"Why? What is it?"
"Pussyjuice." Said Seethmantrica.

"Do you have them on scanners?"
"Yes Commander Harkass."
"Composition?"
"Forty two vessels, of which 19 are Strato class destroyers."
"Good then we will have a good fight today."
Briefly he thought of Red, then he gave the order. "Raise Shields."

"What's happening?" Screamed the terrified girl as the clanging of the alarm reverberated through the ship. "You'll see." Cackled Cargocover two.
Danajane tugged at her straps when she felt the machine between her legs suddenly throb into life. She looked around, searching frantically for some escape. She noticed that most of the girls were looking at her. Seethmantrica had her eyes closed in concentration. Suddenly they snapped open.
"Relax bridge forward one. It will be easier."
The probe rammed into Danajane sundering her carefully hoarded virginity like paper. It was stiff and rough like a very hard sponge. It lingered for a brief moment then it started pumping frantically. Danajane twisted and turned as best as she could in the bondage but the probe was brutal and relentless, pounding away at the centre of her being as it tried to draw her precious fluids from her and intothe shield mechanism. Meanwhile the massage units kicked in, massaging every part of her body with warm fur. Her breasts receieved the most attention as they were gently kneaded whilst the nipples were teasingly sucked.
Wildly she looked around and saw that most of the girls were similarly engaged. Soon their moans of pain were replaced by moans of lust as the machines did their work.
A fire started to build in her belly. Onward and upward it roared until it seemed like her body could contain it no longer and she orgasmed in a welter of juices.

"Bridge forward shield up to 100 per cent Sir."

The bridge took two hits simulataneouly. The shield value dropping alarmingly.
Deep, deep, down in the bowels of the ship the young girl writhed in hopeless lust as the probe doubled then tripled its speed. Her head shook, whipping her hair backwards and forwards across her sweaty red face. Her feet drummed a tattoo as the orgasm hit, creating a white hot supanova of pure ecstacy.
The machine was rewarded with a gout of precious cream and the shield value slipped up by ten per cent. The probe thundered on.

The battle raged for hours with the ponderous fighting ships pounding each other like drunken bare knuckle boxers. Finally the Morgons started to yield as one by one, as their shields lost their effectiveness or in some cases died completely.
Eventually Harkass called off the fight and his ships cloaked and hyperspaced out. He wasn't worried about the battle. There would be others and he would be better prepared next time. He'd captured nearly two hundred new shield generators to replace those too worn out or sick to provide adequate cover. These he left behind to be integrated back with their species.
Just as he engaged the drive he glanced up at the bridge forward one shield indicator. It still read 100 per cent. He clapped his spartucles together. He was looking forward to testing her in the many great battles to come.

Dane clicked the autopilot on as he cleared the gravitational pull of Morgon III. Those bastards were becoming more slippery every day. Slippery, ha! that's a joke, the Morgons had the viscosity, and trustworthiness come to that, of used motor oil. For the life of him, he couldn't see how they could even survive, let alone fight. Yet here they were, winning the fucking war.
Dane was a mercenary, pure and simple. And, so, as soon as he could see which way the tide was turning he'd been away and joined the Morgons. They were damned good fighters, granted, it was just a pity that they didn't know how to treat women. Still, and all, women did make mighty effective shields, far superior to the ones the human federation had. In fact he'd heard that the humans were starting to fit them onto new craft. That may turn the tide yet.
He sighed.
It was just a pity that's all. Take the two behind him for instance, Port one and Starboard one. A prettier pair of creatures you couldn't find anywhere. One a gorgeous little brunette the other an elfin little blond. They didn't supply big versions to little ships like his, so he had to make do with the little ones. Not young you understand because below a certain age, roughly equivalent to the age of consent on the home planet, they were ineffective and hardly worth their weight. Just small in stature.
These two were both virgins. He'd asked them when they were first installed. What a waste! The problem was that if he actually dicked one then his sperm would somehow destroy the effectiveness of the shield for at least twenty four hours. And that could spell disaster in a war zone. Furthermore he couldn't even use a condom because, somehow, it managed to upset the delicate balance of raw pussyjuice again rendering the shields useless. Only the extractors, long, thick, sponge like prongs, were able to interact neutrally enough as to not render the juice useless. It even ruined it if he shot in their mouths or over their bodies.
It was a real hassle.
He swivelled on his seat in order to survey the two bound beauties. He wondered, idly, what it would be like to be one of them. Sitting there with her legs spread wide and a huge probe facing her pussy. Knowing that if he flicked that small red switch, two virginities would be gone within a second. Then the pounding fuck from which there is no escape as the computer draws more shield energy from her vital juices.
Then, if the ship takes a hit, the sudden burst of double or triple speed action as the ship milks her for every drop of her cream.
He stood up. Fuck, this was making him horny. He scratched his crotch absent mindedly, while he stared at them. The shield generators moaned, they knew exactly what he was thinking and they were hardly in position to do anything about it if the fancy took him...
"Shit!" He exclaimed and slumped back onto his hydoleather swivel pod. The damned Morgons just didn't have a clue about human comfort. They didn't actually sit, in fact they had nothing to sit on (with no ass to speak of ), so the design of even a simple seat was beyond them. So this lumpy, uncomfortable slab was the nearest they managed to get to a chair with all their, otherwise superior, technology.
Yet they were winning the war. It never ceased to amaze him.
He reached over and toyed with the red button. Behind him he could hear the collective, and heartfelt, gasps of two petrified virgins. He could see them reflected in the glass of the spaceshield, watching his every move with the intensity of a mouse watching a snake.
Suddenly he swivelled. "Do you know what you're doing to me?" He shouted. "Well do you?"
A collective headshake.
He grabbed his crotch suggestively. "You know what this is?"
Their eyes widened in fear. They didn't actually KNOW, never having seen one in the flesh, but they had a pretty shrewd idea. They'd attended sex education classes, even though they'd giggled their way through most of them. And it held as much terror for them as the probes which stood, stiffly erect, millimetres from their vulnerable crotches. Possibly even more so. The probes couldn't get them pregnant.
"Ah, fuck." He said dismissively.
Again he turned to his control console and punched in the long range, sector scanners. He watched, boredly, as the scanners made their sweep for any other vessels. There were only two vessels within 2 light years (approximately 1 earth day in distance at low warp), a Cartegian Trader and a Morgon Patrol ship. He enabled the transponder key and acknowledged the triple bleep of the patrol craft.
He drummed his fingers on the console and toyed with the red button.
Spacegates! This was boring. He could think of better things to do with his time...
Just then a thought struck him. He had at least 24 hours before he was likely to come in contact with another ship and he was well within Morgon territorial space. What's more, he was travelling to Yunos II, the Morgon supply moon, so his passage was likely to be well patrolled. Maybe a spot of boredom diversion was in order.
He swivelled. But which one?
The brunette was delicious, her hair falling in soft brown ringlets around a smooth oval face. Her eyes were brown and wide open and watery with fear. He felt his crotch lurch as he casually studied her soft, curvy, charms. On the other hand the blond was equally appetising with her long blond hair and powder blue eyes.
In the end it was the tits that decided it.
He was more of a handful man than a mountain man and the blonde's perky little breasts finally tipped the balance. She was to be the one that was going to be graced with his juices.
He sauntered over, covering the distance across the small cabin in two strides. As he came up close he noticed her whole body was shaking. He smiled, he loved them when they were frightened it added a certain piquancy to the enforced coupling.
Staring into her eyes he dropped pressed the wrist button on his monolycra suit and it disappeared leaving him naked and rampant. He laughed as he saw her eyes widen further in fear and revulsion at the size of his organ.
He reached down and started to rub her pussy, slowly and deliberately. She whimpered as his finger sought out her secret passage and started to draw her unwilling juices from her. As the finger continued to tease, her whimpering changed to low moans and gasps and her pussy started to seriously juice up.
This one would make a fine shield.
But first she had a job to do.
He tried pushing the probe out of the way, but only succeeded in pushing it back about a foot before it reached the end of its travel. If he tried to force it any more then he was sure that he'd break it and that would mean at least two days out of action while it was being fixed.
So he inserted his body between the probe and her wide open and damply sweet pussy.
He manoeuvred his weapon at her gate, rubbing the fat rubbery head in small circles over the delicate lips of her sex. He could feel the heat of her pussy on his prick and it urged him into action, he must claim this one.
Taking hold of her hips he braced his back, his cock so stiff and straight it was like a steel rod waiting to penetrate her vitals.
"Aaaaaaaargh!" She cried as he launched into her.
'Man, she's tight.' He thought as the bulbous head pressed up against her virginity. Gathering all his strength he pushed through into the previously untouched reaches of her sex.
Her eyes flew open and stared into his with a mixture of loathing and suppressed pain as his prick finally came to rest with its complete length buried in her, with his balls slapping lightly against her ass cheeks.
A brief pause and he was off, pumping furiously.
Her seat creaked and groaned with the force of his pounding and she kept up a barrage of moaning, gasping groans as he cock beat her deeply into the chair mechanism.
Faster and faster.
Harder and Harder.
He was coming.
He could feel the surge from his balls.
Here it comes...

The federation ship uncloaked on the port side.
"Composition?" Said the Captain.
"Two female captives and a male humanoid."
The Captain turned to his security officer. "The Merc?"
The Security officer smiled and nodded.
"Get them out and then deal with him." The Captain turned back to the monitor.

Just as he was about to cum the sirens blared and the probes thrust into action. The air was rent with screams. The warning systems screamed, the Brunette screamed as the probe sundered her virginity, but by far the loudest scream came from the merc himself, as the probe, that was meant for the blonde, rammed into his ass and started pounding.
The pain and the pleasure mixed into one as he continued to ram into the hapless blonde, with the probe following his thrusts.
He could feel the orgasm welling in his balls.
Just as he started to ejaculate the two girls suddenly disappeared, teleported out, leaving him alone in the cabin as his sperm flew in long silver streams over the still warm seat.
"Uuuurgh!" He moaned as his balls contracted forcing more of his cream out into the void and the probe up his ass thundered faster trying, uselessly, to draw shield cream from him.
Moments later his craft disintegrated as the salvo of ion rays hit it.
The Federation craft cloaked and Hyperspaced out.

Admiral Frey stared at his info-tablet disconsolately. The war was progressing badly on all fronts and it was all due, he knew, to the brilliant new shield mechanisms that the Morgons had installed. They had an extremely vital component that they stole from the Federation, which made them virtually immune to whatever weapon the Federation contrived to throw at them. And the name of this component?
Pussies!
He swivelled his chair and stared out of the space port at the blur of the planets passing by. He steepled his fingers and was lost in deep thought as his adjutant came through on the communicator.
"Commander Brett to see you Sir."
"Send him in." Snapped the Admiral, maybe there would be some good news from the mission's Senior Science Officer.
"Take a seat Commander." He waited until the Commander was seated before continuing, briskly. "What is the progress of the research?"
"Encouraging, Sir. The Starfortress Stighunt has been fitted with up-rated copies of the Morgon Mechanism and initial tests have concluded that it is virtually indestructible."
"Excellent and how are you managing to ..er.. procure the compound?"
"Mainly volunteers Sir."
The Admiral's raised eyebrows said it all. In fact the Commander himself had been more than a little surprised that so many women had come forward to be included in the programme. In fact every woman in the battlefleet had volunteered, right up to the most senior Captains.
Even after he explained to them that their sole, future, contribution to the conflict would consist of an endless stream of intense and mindless orgasms. In fact their determination seemed to become even more vehement and their bright eyed resolution and fortitude brought a lump to his throat. With comrades such as these they couldn't help but win in the end.
"How has it been arranged?" Continued the Admiral, after a moment's deliberation on the bravery and courage of the women. Imagine! They were giving up the glories of battle and all they could look forward to was a succession of squalid orgasms. He never ceased to be amazed at the sacrifices these women could endure to secure the final victory.
"Every female in the program has been allocated a battle station, Sir. When the sirens sound they would strap themselves in and the machines would take over. We've arranged for their uniforms to be modified so that they may er uncover their genital area more speedily."
"Modified? I don't think I like the sound of that." Concluded the Admiral.
"Oh its been very tastefully done Sir. In fact even if you look closely you can't detect the modifications. It does not detract from the majesty of the battledress Sir." The Science Officer explained. "All they have to do is press a discreet button and the monolycra around their crotch disappears leaving them open and available."
"Humph!" Grunted the Admiral, disapprovingly.
Noting the Admiral's obvious displeasure the Science Officer hurried on. "We are also managing to build up a stock of the compound."
"How?"
"Many of the women are voluntarily going to the, what we call, 'service stations' and contributing the compound on a daily basis. In fact some of the women are so dedicated to our fight that they, with no pressure from ourselves, willingly submit up to 8 times a day." Said the Science Officer, his voice choking with emotion. "It's a glorious sight Sir, all those women lined up on their collection stools writhing in lust, purely to protect the interests of the rest of us."
The Admiral made a mental note to go and see the facilities in action. Purely in the interests of Science, you understand.
"But there is a problem Sir."
The Admiral sighed. He thought it was going too well. "Problem?"
"Yes Sir. We've found that if the woman has er, normal sex, with a man Sir he interjected quickly then the compound loses its effectiveness."
"So?"
He took a deep breath. "That means that the men can't er have relations with the women in the programme."
"A pity, but we must all make sacrifices." The Admiral said, dismissively. "We'll just have to tell the men that."
"Of course Sir. I'm glad you see it that way Sir, because your wife volunteered for the programme this morning."

The battle of Urtocon IV would go down in he annals of spacelore as the mightiest clash that ever took place in territorial space.
The cream of the Morgon Battlefleet, some four thousand vessels in all, met an opposing force of a little over three thousand Federation Vessels.
The fight went on for three revolutions of the Urtoconian Sun and resulted in the loss or destruction of a little over half the Morgon Battlefleet. The Federation escaped relatively lightly with the loss of only a few of its unmodified craft.
Historians and statisticians concluded, after many years of careful research, that there had been a total of 62 million female orgasms in those few, short, hours. Everybody was equally amazed at the tenacity and steely eyed ruthlessness of the Federation fighting men. For centuries afterwards the arguments were kicked backwards and forwards over whether it was a desire on the part of the men to seek vengeance on the Morgons for their earlier humiliations in the campaign. Or the more prosaic reason that the men wanted to get the fight over with so they could get their rocks off.
After the passage of time the real reasons get lost in the clouds of mystery.
One day a scholar may lead us to the real answer.
In the meantime you must draw your own conclusions.