Space station of the sluts
Zanthia sighed and leaned back in her chair. Her heels drummed discontentedly on the floor. Megan had rolled right over and gone to sleep after their tussle in her cabin. Forgivable, given the station chief’s workload, but frustrating…
“Right,” Zanthia said aloud. She locked her door with a gesture, then, after a moment’s thought, went ahead and sealed the atmosphere as well.
The touch of a fingertip opened her daysuit at the chest. Zanthia wiggled free, the almost-invisible shimmer collapsing down into a neat little square in her hand. Her projected “clothing” flickered out and vanished, leaving her standing naked on the dry friction-matting.
“Much better.” Zanthia grinned at herself in the section of the wall set to reflective. She ran a hand through her scarlet curls, upper and lower; primped and popped a hip at her mirror image. “Sexy lady. You’ve definitely earned a break.”
Blowing herself a kiss, Zanthia opened a desk drawer. Her favorite toy lay within: a long, flexible tube, domed at one tip; plain and unadorned but obviously phallic. Plugged into a daysuit it could shift its size and shape any number of ways. On its own, well…on its own it was just a big dick, which suited Zanthia’s mood fine.