It’s been another week on the run, I’m almost back on course, and I’m horny.

Really horny.

Really really horny.

How horny am I? I’m beginning to think seriously about toys.

Ci and Lia either didn’t have any or didn’t want to use them on me, and for that I’m thankful. I squirmed every time they tried to put something in my pussy, and after only one night they stopped trying.

Checks take about an hour, there’s only three pages to run through. I’m not taking off in an atmosphere, and the engine hasn’t been cool for too long. In fifteen minutes the drive is hot.

Solid fuel is fine. Water is fine. I went out and bought 25 lbs of food. Fresh vegetables and fruit (at an obscene markup), rice, bread, adventuresome pizza, beef, pork, rabbit, sausage, some whale, and gas station sushi. Gas station sushi is never a good idea, and for some reason I keep buying it. I throw out some noodles with a sense of vindication and relief.

I’ve been on the station nearly a week. It’s taking this long for Bob’s Gun’s to get their money together, and I’m beginning to think they’re jerking me around.

But that’s not why I’m staying.

I’ve been sleeping in that weird bed for three nights. Well we do a lot less than sleep. That is, very little sleep goes on in the bed. Sort of.

For three days I’ve slept in, while Lia goes off to work her ten hours. Hard is the kind of place that stay open at her convenience, and the regulars know when to come. The non-regulars find somewhere soft to drink.

The Bob’s Gun’s have to get a lot of escrow together, so in the meantime I have nothing to do, but nothing to do.

Get a bra Elven. Put on the sexy boots again.

I go back to the hanger, get into the bunk house, and pick up something with fringe. I don’t have anything in white, or cream. You’ll see the black through my white crop top, but it’s tiny so I decide that’s okay, and put it in my purse.

The filter is probably done by now. Lets check with Mitch.

God, I need a shower.

More precisely I need a public shower. I know what the showers are like in a brothel, and I don’t feel like the sense of community would be helpful right now. I’m sure there are staff showers, and I’m also sure I don’t want to experience them.

I stand for a long time in front of Paint. They must do a lot of business, they have a fancy sign that changes color and font. This is what you want. Go in there.

I don’t move.

Go in there, Eleven!

I move. Put my hand on the door handle. Open it. Step inside.

The smell in here is overwhelming. A hundred different kinds of perfume. There are vials on the wall. Lotions, soap, scrubby things, all in pastel.

I have entered the Temple of Woman.

“Yah need a carbon mod fer yer printer, but I dun’t think you’ll know how ta print one.”

First male I’ve talked to while I have breasts. He’s not attractive, thank god.

I’m on call with a Sector & Sector mechanic who knows nothing about me, or the mission, but is supposed to know a hell of a lot about this ship. Maybe he does, but I’m coming face to face with an attitude that should have died out last millennium.

“Look little lady, is the ship captain there, I think he’d better understand what I’m talking about.”

“How has your week been?” Dr. Jordan has a plate of chobbish and is munching away. I have (ugh) noodle rations. We’ve been having dinner together once a week for four weeks now. It’s been about four days since I managed to get off for the first time, and now I’ve been doing it at every opportunity. Sometimes I dress up, sometime just my thoughts are enough to get me off.

“You said I’d have a teenager’s libido. That’s pretty much true.” I still fantasize about Dr. Jordan’s mouth, but I’m learning to control it.