Captain Janeway Captain s Slave
- 3 years ago
- 58
- 0
Old Friends, New Loves free porn video
Old friends, new loves
By Trainmaster
Synopsis: A space accident nearly kills the chief engineer. His best
friend rushes to save the engineer's life. He finds a body for an
emergency brain transplant -- a woman's body. So how does the engineer
react when she explores her new femininity? How does she relate to her
best friend? Is it male bonding lost? Or mutual love found?
The file drawer slid away from my fingers and closed with a thunk. Whew! I
was done with the week's last task and the weekend was completely free. I
flipped on the television screen and dialed the overall view of the
SkyCube. It was so powerful and majestic.
A knock on my door sidetracked me. "Hello?" I called as I turned.
"Umm ... hi," said a tiny Japanese woman. "May I come in?"
She was a little more than five feet tall. She wasn't wearing scrubs,
which meant she wasn't on the medical staff. Her ethnicity was pronounced
and her eyes were gorgeous. Her dark brown hair hung far down her back.
"Oh, please. Do come in," I answered cordially. "What brings you to my
office?"
She took a single step forward and said, "To hand in my resignation,
Barry."
"People don't normally give me resignations," I replied. "Those go to your
supervisor."
"You are my supervisor."
I only oversee half a dozen people: the hospital's chief administrator,
the head of information systems, the personnel director, the facilities
and logistics manager, the finance director, and the chief engineer, who
works far out in the extremes of the SkyCube and ... oh my God. I scolded
myself for my stupidity.
"Milo, old friend -- I was distracted. Do come in, please. How wonderful
to see you again. Tell me about this nonsense of resigning."
"It's Miluko now, Barry. Two parts combined -- Mil for me; Uko for her. I
had it changed a while ago."
I hadn't heard that news. "Uko for her? Your body?"
She frowned. "Her name was Mitsuko. You never asked, did you?"
I stared at my clean desktop, embarrassed. "Crap, Milo ... M-Miluko.
Things happened just too fast. I-I'm really sorry."
The office went silent. I remembered the accident all too well.
Milo had bitched about the age of that miserable space transport. "They
promised, Barry. It's in the contract -- they're to ship to us using only
the newest orbiters in their fleet. I don't even want that piece of
garbage near the SkyCube." It was the first time in the 10-year project
they'd let us down and I could see his anger.
"How will you get the supplies, the steel, off of it?"
He'd frowned, just as she was frowning now. "Oh, shit. Fine, just this
once."
And then the damned cargo door -- something hit it and it came tumbling
through the construction area. One of the workers tried to slow it down
with a set of attitude packs but that merely deflected it.
Deflected it straight into Milo first, and then the girl, the engineering
school intern. The sudden decompression killed her but aside from a cheek
bone shattered when the door struck her faceplate, the intern's body was
undamaged.
Despite all Milo's planning; all his preparation; all the years he spent
analyzing anything that could possibly affect the project; the one thing
he most dreaded had happened.
Miluko was two steps inside my open door. We both knew the story, knew how
it ended.
There was never a choice. In the just-completed trauma center, I had to
make a split-second decision. His body was failing but we needed his
brain, his skill, his knowledge. "I-I'm sorry Miluko. I had no
alternative. Wouldn't you have done the same?"
"Maybe," she said, taking another small step forward. "Did you weigh all
the options? Did you think to give me a choice in the decision? Did you
even ask?"
"No," I whispered, embarrassed. In the rush to save him, it never occurred
to me that he might not want to be saved. I needed him too much to pass up
the opportunity to keep him alive.
"It's too late to be sorry about it," she said. "Do you recall my last
words before the operation?"
I nodded. "I remember them every day, every hour of the day. I always
have." It hurt to think about them and I understood why she was only a few
steps inside my office. I didn't blame her for hating me. "You said,
'Markham, if I survive this, I'm going to fuck you over.'"
She twined her fingers together. "I spent the first year, they told me it
was almost a year, without any contact with the outside world. I kept
myself active doing polynomials, calculus, every level of mathematics I
knew. I re-engineered all the world's greatest bridges. I found errors in
some of them, including the SkyCube -- not enough to affect the outcome
but enough to cheer me up.
"Then there was light; not bright, not focused. Sound; jumbled discordant
noises I couldn't string together. And pain -- that was the best gift they
could give me -- because I knew my brain had properly connected to her
spine.
"What? You knew?"
"Of course. I'm an engineer; I'm used to analyzing the variables of
situations in unstable condition. You had tears in your eyes. I never saw
you cry before. I've seen men in negative pressure ventilators. I've spent
too much time in space suits not to understand the lack of a pulse in my
neck.
"The way they rushed her around ... no brain activity but on life support.
My body was on the verge of failing with my knowledge trapped in it, and
you intended to keep me alive. Who knew what kind of miserable paralyzed
existence -- but ... useful."
"Oof!" I winced. In my panic, I hadn't thought about Milo's potential
future quality of life.
"It took 13 months from that first glimmer. Light gradually coalesced into
clear vision. Sound slowly became comprehensible. Physical therapy
progressively became self-controlled movement.
She took another step forward and relaxed. "And all that time, the SkyCube
was drifting off schedule."
"I know," I agreed. "Believe me, I know. It wasn't anybody's fault. It
just ..."
"So finally, I couldn't stand not doing something that stimulated me. As
soon as the therapists let me, I called all my team together and gave them
new orders, new priorities."
"We all knew once you came back on the job, things would get much better."
"Yeah," she sighed. "It took me almost half a year to figure out how to
proceed, how to make up 29 months of only partially-finished effort. That
drove me crazy, six damned months to get the project back on task. It left
only five years to meet the deadline."
"And you DID it, Milo! Sorry ... Miluko. You were so close, just five
weeks off schedule. The board of directors couldn't believe you actually
accomplished it; they were speechless. Dr. Mullins came up and danced
around my office, he was so delighted."
"Yeah." A pained look crossed her face. "Just the memory," she explained
when I expressed concern. "Doctors ... as soon as the medical staff arrived
and the full hospital opened, they put me through so many tests that it
made my head whirl. Some of them weren't nice at all. Some of them were
embarrassing. And some of them were ... the doctors commented on my ..."
She blushed. "... on my advanced sexual activity."
"I wondered about that, too," I sighed. "I hoped you were taking
precautions."
"You spied on me?" She crossed the last few feet of my office and put both
hands on my desk. There was fire in her eyes.
"Look, Miluko -- it's my job to know what's going on here. The doctors
thought you were too hasty, too impulsive. They were worried about the
anti-rejection drugs. I didn't intentionally spy ... they came to me and
complained."
I waved at the chair beside her. "Oh, please, sit down, Miluko. Let me get
you a drink." I turned to my credenza and took out two highball glasses.
"I can't," she said. "Immunosuppressants don't mix with alcohol. The
danger to my liver is too risky." She turned the chair sideways and sat on
its corner.
She looked up at my television screen, still showing the SkyCube. The
earth had slipped behind it, giving it an intriguing halo. "I've never
seen it this way. I'm always over there on the corner staring straight
down," she pointed. "This is beautiful."
"To the SkyCube," I grinned, holding up an invisible glass.
"To us," she toasted with a wink. "Barry and Miluko. Friends for life."
"You know ... I ... I don't want to pry," I said. "Tell me to mind my own
..."
"... is sex as enjoyable as a woman?" She finished my thought. "At first,
I wasn't sure. I'm so small now and men are all so big. Then it was a
diversion, to take my mind off the intensity, the incredible pace we've
had to work. I was picky, you know -- I stayed away from the construction,
engineering and administrative staff, and just ..." she blushed again,
"just boffed the medical staff."
That brought a smirk to her face. "Doctors are just as inept as anyone
else. There I was, totally inexperienced and I had to guide them ...
"Uh ... you're probably wondering why I did it. Why would a happily
heterosexual male all his life suddenly become promiscuous as soon as he
had a sex change?
"I made a career of knowing every tension point and strain. I considered
everything. I learned how to gauge the joints, the welds, the connections.
I helped developed master systems and tested them, and tested the pieces,
and tested again."
She glanced up at the SkyCube. "I'm part of a system, too. I inhabit a
body that ... that includes sex organs. How will I come to terms with the
whole body unless I test the pieces? Do my nerves work when someone
touches my clit? Can I have an orgasm? Will I even like it? If you want to
do stress testing, you apply stress. If you want to make sure you can have
sex, you have sex."
I looked at her. What she'd just said was so like Milo -- not shy, not
afraid to be honest. "I can only guess how it is from the female side. But
isn't there also an emotional component?"
"You mean ..." she stared into my eyes, "... doesn't love equal more than
sex?" I nodded.
"Yes," she answered her own question. "Eventually I'll settle down with
one person. That's the way our species works. We're monogamous. How will I
know who the right person is unless I know more about the others? Someday
I may want to get pregnant and I have to know I can trust the father."
If there'd been whiskey in one of those glasses, I'd have slugged it down.
"Is that something you want, Miluko? A family? We've been bachelors as
long as we've known each other, dedicated to seeing this unbelievable
achievement become reality. Can you shift gears and settle down?"
"Well, I can't ever leave the SkyCube?" she replied. "Mitsuko was only
going to be here for a couple months during her internship. She had no
reason to worry about going home. But I've had her body for seven years,
under the most challenging conditions. It's been affected by the
physiology of living in space, of living in limited gravity."
"Mine has, too."
"Yes, but if you flew down, you'd eventually adjust. No one knows what the
increase in gravity will do to a brain that's perched so precariously on a
donor spinal cord."
Oh, God, I thought. How could I not see that? I hurried to reassure her.
"I never planned to leave either -- this is my home, too. So we'll stay
here ... old friends who shared a common bond and have no more desire to
be young turks."
"That brings us back to my question, Barry, about the last words I said to
you. Just before they anesthetized me."
"I thought I answered. You said 'Markham, if I survive this, I've going to
fuck you over.' Right?"
"Did you ever watch the tapes?"
"Tapes? There were tapes?"
"Come on, Barry. The cameras are everywhere except the privacy areas."
"But Miluko. I didn't need cameras to check on you, I was there every day,
waiting, hoping, agonizing for the day you'd wake up and come back to
work. When you did, when my prayers were answered, I came back to my
office and left you to finish the SkyCube without interference."
My voice dropped to a disconsolate whisper as I realized what I'd just
admitted. "Oh God, Miluko, that must have disappointed you. I'm so sorry."
"So am I, Barry. If you'd looked at the tapes, you'd know that I never
said the word 'over.' I only said that if I survived, I planned to fuck
you. You -- my closest friend.
"All that other stuff, the sex ... the inept medics with their fumbling
hands. Just practice, just steps toward my promise. Is that clear? Or do I
actually have to say I love you?"
I blinked at her. I must have been flustered, startled, because she
laughed. It was a pleasant sound. I rubbed away some tears that started to
fill my eyes.
"I didn't know. When did you ... make that decision?"
"When I saw your torment in the trauma ward. I think the pain made me
realize my life would - had to - change, no matter what I felt before. You
looked so lost, so empty, that I wanted to cry out and comfort you." She
looked up at the SkyCube and chewed her lip.
"Why did you save my life?" she finally asked.
"I needed your help to finish the SkyCube."
"I played such a big role in your work that you couldn't do without me.
You value the part of me that was in my brain -- 'hey, Milo, how soon can
your team finish Subcube G so the lab group can start moving in?'"
"Damn, it sounds so selfish."
She nodded. "Is it? After all our years together? Couldn't it also be
expressed by 'hey, buddy, can I have another helping of your delicious
stroganoff?' Do you see the connection?"
"Well ..." I hesitated. "Still selfish."
"Barry? We've know each other since college. If anyone understands me, it
would be you. You redirected a lot of corporate resources into making sure
your best friend survived. That's the essence of the commitment I've
always felt from you. Why did you do it?"
I shrugged, feeling self-conscious and suddenly tongue-tied.
She reached across the desk and took my hand. "A bond. A connection.
Admiration."
What if she was right? What if my unspoken motive had been personal? Could
I have been expressing my own ...? "... love?" I wondered out loud.
"You took a serious risk hoping I would live," she said. "You knew my work
made me happy. You knew that the first thing I'd want would be to finish
the SkyCube. You stayed by my side through the entire time I healed. I
think that qualifies as love."
"But I let you down. I left you alone when you needed me most."
"That's why I'm here." Her voice was soft, gentle. "The SkyCube is nearly
done - just some finishing touches. Now I'm tired of thinking. Tired of
making critical decisions. I realized I just want to relax for the rest of
my life and savor the success with you."
With me? The rest of her life? My long-time best friend? I looked into her
eyes -- so active, so beautiful, so full of passion -- and saw what love
really is. "Miluko? If I accept your resignation, will you promise me
something?"
"Ask," she whispered in a sultry tone.
I smiled. "I couldn't bear to lose you again. If ... when we get you
pregnant? Will you ... will you promise to do everything the transplant
doctors tell you?"
Copyright © 2011-2013 by Trainmaster. All rights reserved.
This story is a work of fiction. No resemblance to any individual, living
or dead, is intended.
Fay
- 27.09.2022
- 10
- 0
