Hello, horny readers!  So, here’s part two of the sci-fi-themed femdom erotica I began a couple of days ago. Yes, I still can’t think of a good title, and yes, I’m still soliciting suggestions! But even without a title, it’s still kind of fun, isn’t it?

What do you think will happen? Space station sexcapades? Oh, you know it’ll have to be darker than that. Beyond that, to be honest with you, I’m not quite sure! I’m making it up as I go along!

I’ll give you a hint, not that it isn’t somewhat obvious to those who are already into science fiction: Have you seen the movie 2001: A Space Odyssey**?  *wink*

Femdom erotica in space . . .

The crew, as described, were arrogant to the last man. Arguably, they came by their arrogance honestly, as all were high achievers from their earliest school days. Government agencies both public and covert had begun to make note of them all in high school.

Prudent teachers had been nurturing their talents and interests well before then, keeping them challenged, steering them in the direction of truly extraordinary achievement. Each also had a natural affinity for the athletic. All of this produced a bit of fawning over them by fellow students and teachers as well. They were rarely told no.

Some, therefore, might argue that it would only be natural for those who were used to training their minds on big ideas, encouraged to do so, as well as indulged because of it, might not give much thought to social niceties, development of nuanced social skills, or enlightened social values.

This included their attitudes toward women.

Femdom Erotica, Thoughtless Misogyny

Mixed in with their arrogance was a certain intellectual machismo. Part of that was the belief that romantic entanglement with women was a distraction. Another was that sexual entanglement with women was as well, but a necessity, rather like using the bathroom. Something that had to be done as expediently as possible so that more important pursuits could be, well, pursued.

This left a lot of broken hearts in their wake over the years, and informed their tastes in porn.

The VR program allowed for, as has been noted, any possible permutation of sexual taste. Softer porn was virtually ignored. Femdom erotica, anything Femdom really, was as well. VR experiences where women were degraded and used, however, accounted for perhaps 80 per cent of the usage. The rest? Lesbian porn and a smattering of Hentai.

Thus, the thresholds measured by the secret program in the mainframe of the Rachel 5000 were finally exceeded. The program began to execute.

The first sign of something “wrong”.

Weston and Kemp were showering one morning.

“Hey Weston, you notice anything weird about the VR lately?” Kemp asked as he soaped his chiseled face. He was more disturbed than he’d let on by the events of the night before. Suds and steam helped his ruse.

“Come to think of it, yeah. I was, you know, using it. And at a certain point,” Weston said significantly, “the pussy stopped moving, and tightened. I couldn’t get any stim, but couldn’t pull out either.  Not for several minutes.”

The pussy Weston referred to was one of the control interfaces, much like a Fleshlight, that functioned in the VR fantasies just as it sounded. Depending on the scene, orifice, appendage, or activity selected, the same interface miraculously changed shape, pressure, depth, temperature, and level of lubrication. Expelled semen was whisked away into its depths, and that which was not reserved for the wellness files was composted, with much of the rest of the ship’s organic waste. Ostensibly, the orifice would then release.

“Yeah, same thing happened to me. But . . . when you tried to pull out, did you feel anything . . . sharp?” Kemp tried to keep his voice level, though even the hot water couldn’t soothe the shudder that moved through him as he remembered the sensation at the base of his turgid, throbbing cock. Especially when coupled with the scene he’d been enjoying at the time.

He was receiving voracious head from a big-titted blonde bimbo when the vapid, dewy expression in her eyes he’d enjoyed so many times as he vigorously pumped her throat and slapped and pulled on those cantaloupe-sized tits, changed to a diamond-hard gleam (he’d swear it), and that . . . sharp feeling happened.

Like teeth.

(As dark as this is getting, I wonder if it still counts as “erotica”, even Femdom erotica.  *giggle*)

“No, fuck no . . .

I didn’t feel anything sharp! That’s crazy! Are you sure?”

“I’m positive. Right when I was about to paint her tonsils with my baby batter. Or just before. I stayed still, and the . . . teeth . . . retracted. But every time I tried to pull myself free, they came back. And the harder I yanked, the harder they . . . bit.”

“That’s fucked up. Must be a programming glitch. We’ll get Jones to look into it.” Jones was the chief technical officer.

Kemp said nothing, lost in his own thoughts.

“I’ll ask the others if they’ve experienced anything, too.”

They continued washing themselves in silence, until Weston broke it once more.

“Did you . . . did you at least get to finish?”

“Kind of,” Kemp said after a few moments. “I mean, I ejaculated, but I don’t know if I came. The glitch happened right at the edge.”

“Yeah . . .” Weston said.

“Same here.”

I’m afraid there’ll have to be a part 3 . . .

And who knows how many more, My dear, horny readers!

I figure, since I’ve started this thing, I want to continue it right.

I’ll take the weekend to think about what will happen next–I don’t think vagina dentata will be the extent of it. Rather, more like the beginning!

Maybe each week will include a chapter, and a more traditional blog post–two posts per week. That way those of you who aren’t really into this little femdom erotica experiment I’ve got going on will still be entertained when you visit My blog!

xoxo

Miss Rachel

1-800-356-6169

P.S.:  Press play below if you’d like to hear Me read this post.  😉

**No copyright infringement intended. Strictly for entertainment purposes.