The Coming Doomsday 11

Kon awakened to the unmistakable feeling of being on a spaceship. The bunk he was in shook with the thrum of the engines and although he wasn't weightless, he felt the slightly off pull toward the ground that meant the gravity was artificial.

He was in a small but well-appointed cabin and his head was throbbing.

Did I die? Is this Heaven? Or was it the other place? He supposed it all depended on what kind of room service this place had.

Kon staggered to his feet and the ache in his head became a roaring pain. He shambled to the sink and splashed himself with cold water, then checked inside the medicine cabinet. He downed three Aspirin, not bothering with water. Then he laid back until the headache settled down.

He must've fallen asleep again. When he woke, his pain was gone and he needed to pee. He did that, weird as it was that his bathroom and his bedroom were the same room. Then he tried the outer door.

It was locked.

“Oh, fuck off,” Kon snapped. “Let me out of here!” He pounded on the door. “Let me out! This isn't funny!”

The door clicked and finally slid open, showing him an oversized gorilla in a steward's uniform, holding a las-gun in one casual hand.

“Is there something I can do for you, sir?” the gorilla asked with mocking deference.

“Yeah. How about you lose the hardware, ace, and take me to the captain? I need a vacation from this vacation.”

“Blackfire has been waiting for you,” the gorilla said. “She told me you were welcome to join her whenever you were ready.”

He gestured ahead of him with the gun and Kon agreeably went down the corridor, with the gorilla on his heels. As they went up to the top deck, he got a chance to look the ship over.

It was a beau. Maybe four hundred feet long, if there wasn't anything beyond the bulkheads he saw in the distance going either direction. Nothing about it was dingy, unclean, or malfunctioning, which he knew would cost a mint. Most spaceships had at least a few lights that had burnt out. There was something about the clean lines and rakish hum of the engines that told him this thing would be fast as hell. 

“Come along, sir,” the ape said. “Blackfire's stateroom is right this way.”

The steward had brought him to a ladder. Kon looked down it dubiously. 

He put his foot on the first rung. The steward put his las-gun away. 

“And don't try coming up before Blackfire lets you go. I'll be waiting.”

“You must be a patient guy. You're still waiting on a personality.”

His red eyes tried to show something as light as amusement. “I get much better than a personality, working here. This is the most sexed up ship in any fleet.”

“Course it is. I'm here,” Kon said and finished going down the ladder.

“And before I forget, Captain Brock sends his regards and asks to see his first mate as soon as you're done with Blackfire.”

“Understandable. I couldn't wait to meet my first mate when I was his age.”

“You're his first mate.”

“I'm flattered, but I don't even go for they/them pussy.”

“Don't forget to knock when you get to Blackfire's door.”

The back of Kon’s neck grew red. He reached the door to the stateroom and knocked on it, but he did shave and a haircut, which he was sure would have anyone inside as sick of his shit as he was of theirs.

Almost at once he heard a smoky voice telling him to enter. He went in. He'd always assumed that most billionaires had a harem room where influencers actually made a living. This was that with a starry window. The suite must've taken up a solid percentage of the ship's real estate, because it looked like it could've been airlifted out of a mansion.

Several doors led out of it. The carpet under his feet was thick and luxurious. There were two huge couches walling off a marble topped coffee table, all set before a massive fireplace with seemingly whole trees burning on the andirons. Bookcases grew like oaks before one wall. Another was entirely taken up by a bar.

Sitting on one white divan was Komand’r. Anyone else would've been dwarfed by the massive room she was alone in. She wore a clinging peignoir that seemed meant to reveal as much as it obscured. It was cinched at her waist and open from the center of her cleavage to her throat. The creamy hills of her breasts showed almost in their entirety.

“Come closer, Superboy. Let me get a look at you.”

“I'll come closer, but only so I can get a look at you,” Kon said. And he turned sideways so she couldn't look him over too much. Doing so had him facing away from the bookcases and he saw an art collection bordering the window and running along its bottom.

Kon could only be absorbed in them. It was the most insane collection of erotica he'd ever seen, but not at all tacky. The artistry was incredible, far surpassing the grossness of a porn store… which Kon only knew about because Atomic Skull had punched him into one once… but being just as debauched.

It had to have come from all over the world… from other worlds, even, because many of the lovers were nonhuman, nonterrestrial. And he couldn't imagine they were cheap. Underneath the window, where anyone could see… assuming they could breathe in space… was a magnificently rendered work of sculpture. It showed three beautiful women, enjoying each other's naked bodies so much that the artwork expertly blurred and blended them into a single being.

“This one's my favorite,” Komand’r said. He hadn't noticed her creeping up to join him until she was at his shoulder. Kon turned his head to look at her and had a hard time not being as riveted to her beauty as he was in her art. 

“The pièce de résistance of the whole collection, wouldn't you say?”

Kon tilted his head to the side. “Unless you have to babysit, I suppose.”

Such pedantic concerns. A man of real culture would see only the beauty of it.

Kon kept staring at the curvedly fleshed and obscenely passionate bodies. They were beautiful, but they were also a filigree on a ship that had kidnapped at least one person: him.

“I suppose if I had snatched you, you'd be cultured enough to appreciate the internal decorating.

I was kidnapped once. Used as a sex slave. It's true I didn't enjoy it much. But a Gordanian isn't the lover I am,” she said in a superior tone.

“I'll take your word for it.”

“You don't have to.”

“You have a Gordanian around?” Kon asked, confused.

Komand’r doffed her peignoir. She knelt in front of him, hands taking hold of his hips, gazing hotly at the bulge of his manhood.

***

She loved looking at a man’s cock growing hard, her excitement growing with it. Teasing herself before opening his fly and actually getting a taste of what was to come. Seeing his size, hard and throbbing, outlined inside Kon’s pants made her quiver with the best kind of want: the kind that was just about to be fulfilled.

There was a reason Komand’r had picked Kon. Not only would his monstrous side make a formidable attraction for the ship, but she herself loved teens. They did anything she wanted at that tender age. Kon no doubt would put his cock in anything that made him come. His balls were full of cream and he was eager to give over that deliciousness to virtually anywhere that would take it.

And unlike adults, who always thought they knew it all when it came to pleasing a woman, a Superboy would be filling to follow her instructions and give what she wanted. And what she wanted most was to be in command. As long as he got off, Kon would be satisfied. With a woman like Komand’r toying with him, he’d melt, be putty in her hands. And she was a woman who knew just how to use putty.

Staring at Kon’s gathering erection with burning eyes, Komand’r licked her lips. His tight pants molded his cock to his left thigh. It pulsed like it was trying to break free. Komand’r moved her finger along its outline, slowly approaching his zipper.

“You’ll enjoy working for me,” Komand’r said, her voice throaty. “Let me show you how much.”

“Well, I might as well keep an open mind,” Kon figured, his voice cracking.