ROLEPLAY HQ - the-dilettante

The alarm continues to blare all across the small shipping frigate, the lights in the narrow corridor flashing red, as if the loud horn followed by the ship’s PA system reminding me, “Situation Critical, Hull Breach Detected”, hadn’t been enough. “Fuck me, they do not pay me enough for this!”, I grumble as I make my way across the hallway, my small frame wrapped up in my standard issue jumpsuit, which was currently only covering my lower half, the sleeves wrapped and tied around my waist, my modest breasts only covered in a sports bra. I bounced off a wall and made my way into the reactor room, sharp green eyes taking in the sight, at least here the lights were fully on, a necessity, since the scan showed that the hull breach was singled out to here, which of course it was, the rust bucket we called The Dilettante was nothing if not consistent in it’s thorough lack of luck. I make out the source of the problem, a single almost perfect hole near the back, no bigger than a golf-ball, but when you’re cruising through space at sub-light speeds, any hole is too big. I make sure my kit is still hanging off my shoulder and lightly kick off to float towards the breach, experienced enough not to push off too hard and end up slamming into the hull, like some cadet just out of the academy. Not that I ever attended the academy. It was a simple patch job, just a sheet of hardened poly-titanium and a few minutes of welding and the alarm stops blaring.

11:09

. I make sure to get my feet on the floor, securing my boots magnetically to it only seconds before the ship normalizes the gravity drive and I suddenly feel the weight of my kit on my shoulder, the strap between my breasts digging in deeper. I let out a sigh, and turned back to the actual core, walking over to its diagnostic screen and looking over the readouts, everything seems stable, no apparent damage. Well, it looks like we won’t all die of radiation poisoning quite yet. Which is nice, since I’d been in the process of fucking myself with my favorite toy when this whole debacle had started, the dildo hanging off my tool-belt like the strangest screw-driver ever. “So, what’s the damage?”, a voice comes on in my ear, and I look over to the corner where I know the security feed can see me and talk directly to it, since it always makes it seem more personal. “Not too bad, probably just a dime sized asteroid, it would explain why the scans didn’t catch it, I’ll have to go out and patch it up on the outside at some point, but the old girl’s still got a bit of life in her, Skipper”, I say, using the usual nickname and sticking my tongue out at you, my hands resting at my hips. “Well, you might want to go get your kit back in your bunk, don’t want to scare the rest of the crew with that thing!”, the laughter in your voice makes it clear that you spotted my dildo, which is to be expected, a 12” purple cock is a little hard to hide as it hangs off my hip. “Yeah, yeah, wouldn’t want them getting any ideas right?”, I grumble, and begin to walk back to my small private room, a minor luxury since only the captain and I had those, everyone having to share quarters, but in space a good engineer/mechanic was a hundred times more important than any other crew member, and it certainly came in handy on these long hauls. (edited)

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07:22

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