Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Doctor Screw by Shadowloup



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   HHHH

   I I====E / \ I I I I I I

   Prologue

   Bernard Binkle was a man with a kinky itch that needed some serious
scratching.  Fast.  Which explained his peculiar half walking, half running
gait as he made his way to level Q, the lowest habitable level of space
station Byzantium III.  Other factors in his strange speedy waddle were the
lessened gravity in this section of the ship and his growing "third leg".
But the aggravation would be worth it if the rumors of a new sex shop where
the women did not charge for their services were true.  Binkle needed to
find out.

   Right, then left, then another left onto the long hallway which led to
Binkle's now second favorite sex shop, the Porno Palace.

   It felt to Binkle like his heart was about to explode out of his chest,
if his dick didn't burst out of his slacks first.

   And there it was, the Ochre Rose.  The terminus of his sojourn, the holy
grail of his quest, sitting right next to the Porno Palace.

   Neon tubes spelling out "the Ochre Rose" flickered, creating a slow
motion strobe effect.  Crumpled condoms, wrinkled papers, and other
detritus of life in the lower regions of a space station littered the
shop's front.

   Binkle pressed the entrance way's doorbell.

   Exactly five seconds after the ring, a voice came over the speaker.

   "DO YOU HAVE AN APPOINTMENT?" screamed a voice suffering from extreme
electronic distortion.

   Maybe the speaker was broken, Binkle thought.

   "Of course," he answered.

   Now the door opened with a self-satisfied sniff of air, and Binkle
walked into the brothel of his dreams.

   Detailed murals depicting scenes of women flagellating men covered the
walls.  Ornate mirrors, plush velvet drapes and plastic-covered couches
were the decor.  There was even a dry bar filling one entire wall.  There
were no other humans however.

   Suddenly a tall, cylindrical object floated into Binkle's view.  It was
a meter and a half tall and phallic-shaped, its bulbous head decorated with
shiny metallic studs.  Two short, stubby mechanical stick arms jetted out
from its sides.

   Now that he knew what to look for, Binkle saw dozens of these things in
the room, floating on carpets of air.  He frowned.  He didn't go for
homoeroticism.

   "NEW SPECIMEN HAS ARRIVED!" the machine in front of Binkle shouted. 
It's voice sounded human, if that human were transmitting his voice through
a really shitty speaker brimming with urine with no bass channel.  Binkle's
ears ached from the heavy electronic distortion alone.

   "How much?" Binkle asked.

   "MONETARY PAYMENT IS UNNECESSARY, HUMANOID SCUM!"

   Binkle's face brightened.  "Excellent!" he said.

   "SPECIMEN WILL STEP THIS WAY!" the machine ordered, gesturing with one
of its skeletal metal arms towards a green door at the rear of the shop.

   Binkle took the hint and started walking.  "Is this going to be an
experimentation scenario?" he asked over his shoulder.

   "YES!"

   The machine behind him aimed its other skeletal arm at Binkle.  Metal
petals blossomed from the end, revealing a hollow barrel.  It fired a green
beam, which struck Binkle in the ass.  Binkle let loose an orgasmic groan.
His knees buckled as his cum spurted out.  His prick felt like it was
covered in fire.  It felt so good it hurt.

   "Yeah!" he yelled, between gasps as he lay on the floor.  "Experiment
away on me baby!"



   Chapter 1

   Byzantium III floated in the normal space-time continuum at the
intersection of three twisted branches of hyperspace.  The deep-space
platform housed the powerful gates accessing these hyperspace regions.

   Physically it resembled a globe of dough which had been kneaded until it
was closer to a cylindrical shape.  Its flat ends allowed easier docking
access while its rotating outer edges provided artificial gravity for the
residents.

   The huge station looked like a vast suppository for a huge interstellar
beast, which was fitting since asteroid minors considered this section of
space to be the ass-end of the universe.  They also used the ship as a
stop-off point for their sexual endeavors, and joked that Byzantium III was
"mankind's last, best hope for piece of ass."

   Xenosexologists abounded, licensed professionals with enough anatomical
knowledge about the various races to get even the most non-sexual species
to spawn.

   Alien races regarded the station highly enough to trade as well as host
a small diplomatic contingencies.  In short, Byzantium III was a country
unto itself in the wilds of space, free from prying governments.  Even the
mysterious multi-trillionaire J.  Paul Gotti had purchased the upper ring
of one side of the station to live out a life of solitude, oblivious to any
rumors about his activities.

   Deep below Byzantium III's outermost level was level Q, where the
gravity lessened and the long hallways traversing the ship's axis began to
hint at the true cylindrical nature of the ship.  There, on a hallway in
the red-light district, was a little pornographic shop called the Porno
Palace.

   For years the Palace had been run by an old geezer crustier than the
drippings on his floor.  When he had retired, he had left control of the
shop to his assistant, a lean yet busty young woman named Alexis whom he
originally hired for her skin-tight pants.

   Alexis was currently surveying the well-worn rug of the Palace, ignoring
the patrons who ogled the skin-tight black bike-pants painted onto her
pleasantly shapely rump.  She wore a white g-string panty over the pants,
and a black leather coat draped over her shoulders framed her purple
tube-top.  She had hair black as interstellar space, and green eyes.

   The rug had to go, Alexis decided.  It was mangy, threadbare, and
stained with decades of fluids whose origins she didn't care to theorize
about.

   Now that she had unpacked the shipment of humanoid sex robots, her day
was free and her only task was to ring up the customers, discourage
five-fingered discounts and deter pervs from doing the five-knuckle shuckle
in the many holographic porno and virtual reality booths.

   To keep from being bored out of her skull, Alexis began a half-assed
inventory.  The intelligent dildos were in place, as were the sexual
stimulants, gels, lotions, potions, leather gear, lycra gear, rubber gear,
bust-expanders and dick-enhancers.  In the central area stood two racks of
VR mindchips and holographic tapes.  Beyond these were the male and female
sexbots Behind them was the costume area.

   Resting on the clear front cash wrap was a display of super-intelligent
prophylactics, powered by sexual effluvia and advertised as being
telepathically aware so they could slip out of wallets and onto sex organs.

   It was at this point in her ruminations that Alexis's roommate Bambi
entered the shop, holding the hand of a small, gnome-sized being with a
face like a naked mole rat.  The being was clad in a trench coat, the front
of which arched up ferociously, threatening the ceiling.

   Bambi was a xeno-sexual biologist and orgasmic engineer.  Next to the
short, dark being, who must be one of her clients, the tall elegant blond
looked incongruous.  One of the being's hands had slipped under Bambi's
fitted cream skirt and the cloth by her crotch was undulating.  Bambi's
face was turning red.

   "Alexis!  Thank god!  I need a place to take care of a client," Bambi
said.

   "Use a hotel room."

   "I can't!  This is an emergency.  He's an Euphorian, and I made the
mistake of letting him feel up my ass.  Now he's so excited he's ready to
burst.  Literally!  If he doesn't come soon there's going to be sperm and
guts everywhere."

   Alexis sighed, and gestured to a small office behind the front counter.

   "Use the cot in the back.  And no stains!"

   Bambi gave a thankful smile and ushered her distressed client past the
counter and through the door.  Five seconds after the door shut Alexis
heard voracious sucking sounds emanate from behind it.

   Alexis sighed again.  Sometimes her roommate was a little too
enthusiastic at her job.  Alexis had previously been an orgasmic engineer
herself, but opted for the slightly less hectic lifestyle of management.

   She was employed and her own boss.  And she didn't have to be a sex
plaything.  Although there were times when she harbored secret fantasies of
being a glamorous porno starlet.  Many of the customers said she was
beautiful enough to do so.  And some had even propositioned her.

   These thoughts reminded Alexis that she was going to have to take a trip
to the Byzantium Security Force to obtain the pertinent zoning permits to
keep the Palace open.  She wondered if the Frigadier or one of his
underlings would demand a quick humjob to make certain those permits were
not lost.

   A sound like a dinosaur having a very messy orgasm filled the shop.  It
came from somewhere beyond the large rack of gaudy plastic sex aids,
towards the rear where the older interactive booths sat.  Some of the
browsing customers looked about for the noise, but no one was too
disturbed.

   Fearing that a water main had burst, Alexis made her way to the back. 
The row of squat virtual reality booths seemed intact, and none were in
use, their doors wide open.  But something was out of place.

   Alexis walked up the aisle.  Yes, there at the far end was an antique
beta-wave porno booth, the dingy, cheap plastic veneer of pseudo-wood
around its door looked out of place against the genteel shabbiness of the
Palace's original booths.

   There was a well-worn placard in the holder on the booth's side
advertising the movie "Ton-O'-Cum, your one stop ejaculation station".  A
threadbare pink curtain obscured the entrance.

   From behind this curtain a man emerged.  He was possibly tall, but
walked with a stooped, hunched-over gate.  He wore loose Bermuda shorts and
a loose, gaily colored Hawaiian shirt.  He might have been in his
mid-forties, and his curly brown hair had the stiff sheen of cheap mousse.
In his left hand he held a clear, fluted glass filled with some liquid that
supported a jaunty little paper umbrella.  A slight smell of mind-altering
substances clung to his clothes.

   He peered around, a broad grin with all the white energy of an exploding
nova flashed across his face.

   "Now this is a vacation spot.  Maybe it's not Haight-Ashbury...," he
said.  His voice was low, warm and slightly slurred.

   His eyes were bright and intelligent, peering out from a pair of thin
wire-rimmed glasses whose lenses had a light brown tint.  He displayed just
a hint of mischief as he perused Alexis's body in a long, lustful gaze. 
His stare was briefly captured by her muscled ass and her jutting boobs. 
Eventually his gaze came back to her eyes.

   "Hello there," he said.  His smile was again nova-like, and his teeth
nearly glowed in the shabby gloom of the porn shop.

   "Hello yourself," Alexis responded in her best cold-water voice.  "You
had best not have been wanking in there, or I'll call security and have
your ass thrown out."

   "Wanking in there?  Where?" The stranger seemed a little mystified, and
turned to face the old porn cubicle.

   "Ooohh!  You mean in there.  I never wank in there.  Well, sometimes I
do, but I can usually find some female companion so it rarely comes to
that. Though I do frequently come.  But so do my companions," Once again he
smiled at Alexis.

   "You mean you were screwing women in there?  We could lose our license
with that, you ass!"

   Alexis was not happy at the possibility of losing the shop over a zoning
violation.  Feeling guilty, she shot a look towards the back room where
Bambi still serviced her client.

   "Would you like to ride my JOINT?" the stranger asked.

   "What?" Alexis's dark eyebrows squinted in anger.

   "My JOINT," the stranger said, gesturing to the antique porno booth. 
"Or rather, my Jovian Organically-Integrated Noisy Transporter." His
self-indulgent smile was displayed once again.

   The stranger pulled aside the curtain with a deft tug.  Despite her
better judgment, Alexis leaned forward to peer inside.  Amazingly, the
inner area looked ten times larger than her store.  She was still blinking
and trying to comprehend the spatial difference when a hand smacked her ass
hard, propelling her forward.

   Alexis yelped, and jumped back, rubbing her injured derriere.  "You
perv!" she growled.

   "Welcome to my domain," he said, gesturing towards the room beyond the
curtain with the glass in his hand.

   Still rubbing her smarting tush, Alexis asked, "Your domain?  What the
hell are you talking about?"

   "This is my ship," he said, displaying that nova-powered smile.

   Alexis looked behind the machine and discovered that no power cords
connected it to the wall.  Either she had never noticed this machine with
its optical illusion interior before, or there was truth in what this jerk
said.  Then again, he did seem bombed out of his mind.

   "So you use it to travel through space?" she asked.

   "And time.  When I have the gas money.  I had to make a pit stop here
because I was running dangerously low on prophylactics."

   "So you're some sort of interstellar traveler?"

   "Yes.  Yes I am.  They call me Doc."

   "Well then," Alexis purred, "come over here Doc, and let me show you how
we say hello on Byzantium III." Alexis puckered her lips and leaned
forward. The Doc did too.

   That was when Alexis's foot flew off the floor and into the Doc's
crotch. He went down as fast as the gravity in this part of the ship
allowed.

   As he rolled on the floor, groaning and holding his crotch, Alexis
leaned over.

   "Don't you ever spank me without my permission again."

   "Perhaps we got off on the wrong foot," Doc gasped.



   Chapter 2

   Even though they were part machine, the organic-hybrid component of each
Dildek meeting in the secondary headquarters of the Ochre Rose was excited.
A cloaked ship had just arrived from hyperspace, secretly docking with
Byzantium III, allowing the Dildek-Prime Client to disembark.

   They were now reviewing their plans for space station domination with
their peerless leader.

   "STEP ONE: SUBJUGATION OF FIRST LEVEL OF SHIP.  STEP TWO: PLACE
OCCUPANTS INTO SEXUAL SLAVEREY.  STEP THREE: HARVEST THEIR ENERGY.  STEP
FOUR: REITERATE WITH NEXT LEVEL OF SHIP.  STEP FIVE CONTINUE REITERATION
UNTIL ENTIRE SHIP IS UNDER DILDEK DOMINATION!"

   "EXCELLENT PLAN, THREE-OF-FIVE!" the Dildek-Prime Client said.

   "IT IS FOUND THAT MALE HOMINIDS HAVE SURPLUS OF CHEMICAL TESTOSTERONE!
LEVELS OF THIS CHEMICAL DROP AFTER THE ACT OF EJACULATION!  NEW WEAPONRY
FASCILITATES EJACULATION!" Three-of-Five continued.  "ADDED INCENTIVE:
HOMINIDS ENJOY BEING SUBJUGATED!  SUCCESS IN OPERATION IS ASSURED!"

   "MOST EXCELLENT!" replied Dildek-Prime.  "OPERATION WILL COMMENCE
IMMEDIATELY!"

   "WE REGRET TO INFORM DILDEK-PRIME THAT WE HAVE NOT YET TESTED OUR
HYPOTHESIS OR NEW WEAPON ON FEMALES OF THE SPECIES!" interrupted Dildek
Six-of-Nine.

   "INVASION WILL COMMENCE AS SCHEDULED!  BEGIN WITH ROOM IN NEAREST
GEOGRAPHICAL PROXIMITY!" roared Dildek-Prime.  "EX-SPERMINATE! 
EX-SPERMINATE!"

   Three secondary slave Dildeks fired their lasers at the Byzantium III
wall.

   *****

   In the Porno Palace, Alexis wondered what she was going to do with this
new customer who called himself "the Doc".  He had spent the last hour
perusing the smut, ogling the fuckbots, even copped a feel of the tit on
one of them, all the while chortling at the terrible puns in the vid
titles. He was also secretly ogling Alexis's ass when he thought she wasn't
looking.

   Adding to Alexis's consternation was Bambi's ongoing administrations to
the Euphorian's needs.  They had been at it for over 45 minutes.  The
squeaky cot springs and squeals of delight could be heard through the wall.
Some patrons had heard and were surreptitiously making their way closer to
the cash register while perusing the smut.  Worse still, the noises were
starting to make Alexis uncomfortably wet.  Her lower lips seemed to stick
to her tight shorts.

   An acrid, oily stench of burning latex caught her attention.

   Looking around, Alexis noticed one of the shop walls start to sag.  She
was walking over to investigate when the panel gave way, falling into a
display of leather bondage goods with a horrific crash Alexis felt in her
bank account.

   A penile-looking automation hovered in the new opening, its carpet of
air blowing tendrils of smoke all over.  It casually floated through the
smoldering hole.  Two more appeared behind it.  All had short, hollow,
metallic skeletal arms, which they pointed forward.

   The lead Dildek aimed at Alexis.  The two others trained their arms at
two surprised shoppers.

   "EX-SPERMINATE!" commanded the lead machine.

   High pitched whines slashed through the air as three green lasers burst
forth from the arms.

   The two patrons let loose screams of orgasmic delight as their knees
gave out.  They collapsed onto the floor, writhing in bliss, their hips
bucking uncontrollably, white fluids leaking out the crotches of their
pants.

   Alexis was also hit.  Unlike the men, she stared wild-eyed, her nipples
nearly bursting through her tight tube top, her soaking wet crotch staining
her lycra shorts.

   "Oh sweet fuck!" she said, one hand grasping a tit, the other groping
her crotch.  Her breath came in ragged pants.

   "SECONDARY FEMALE SUBJECT NOT INCAPACITATED BY RAY!  REVERT TO STANDARD
LASER!"

   The Doc, who had been studying a rack of discounted virtual reality
chips, stepped into the aisle.

   "Is this a private orgy, or can anyone come?" he said with a smile.

   "IT IS THE DOCTOR!  EXTERMINATE!" said the Supreme-client Dildek.

   Two Dildeks trained their other arms at the now retreating Doc.  Twin
red laser beams burned lines across the walls, making the panels smolder
and erupt into small fires.

   Somewhere an emergency klaxon throbbed.  It was accompanied by a cheery
female automated voice who stated, "You have two minutes to vacate the
premises before initiation of fire suppression program.  The fire doors
will close and the oxygen will be vented from the room."

   Bambi staggered out of the back room, looking sweaty and disheveled, one
boob bouncing out of her bra as she attempted to pull her skirt back down
around her hips.  She was followed by the trenchcoat-clad Euphorian, who
still resembled a naked mole rat, but one that was satiated.

   "Oh my goddess, what's happening?" she said.

   She ducked as a Dildek fired a green beam at her.  The beam hit the
Euphorian.  It's dark eyes widened in surprise, and the front of its
trenchcoat swelled until it exploded.  Milky white spunk splattered
everywhere, plastering Bambi's face, Alexis's ass, the walls, and the
Supreme-Client Dildek's sensory apparatus.

   "MALFUNCTION!  MALFUNCTION!  BLUE SCREEN OF DEATH!"

   Doc, now hiding behind a batch of upright fuckbots, opened the control
panel in the back of one of the Busty Betsy models and began tinkering with
its electronic gizzards.  The big-boobed blond bimbot came to life.

   She grinned at the Doc and shook her ass.  "What's your pleasure,
sailor?"

   "I think I'd like a fast and furious hootchy-cootchy dance," Doc said.

   "My pleasure," the bimbot said.  She straddled forward and began
gyrating in the aisle.  The Doc took a second to enjoy the view of mamboing
mammaries, then slipped around a side aisle created by several holographic
porno booths.

   The two Dildeks whirled at the sudden appearance of the shapely fuckbot.
In unison they fired their red beams through the smoky shop, slicing the
hapless automaton into three pieces.

   Meanwhile the Doc slipped behind the two Dildeks by cleverly masking his
movements with a Sploogmeister virtual reality chip display.  He boldly
stepped between them.

   "Hello boys," he said.

   The two Dildeks whirled, their lasers flaring.  But the Doc was no
longer between them.  Their beams struck each other.  Twin explosions of
sparks flew through the smoke as the duo crashed and burned.

   The half blind Bambi tried to pull her roommate towards the slowly
closing emergency fire doors.  Alexis eluded her grasp, and turned on the
shop's sound system.  The rhythmic tones of The Wiener Brigade's "I Wanna
Shag You Stupid" filled the air and oscillated the smoke, accompanying
Alexis's strip tease while Bambi crawled to the door.

   "RETREAT!" the Supreme-client Dildek screamed as it floated in discreet
jerks through the broken paneling.  One Dildek followed while dragging the
other, smashing into a leather goods display.  The other Dildek still
burned, leaving a trail of white smoke behind it.

   Alexis, now nearly nude and playing with her own boobs, swayed over and
began rubbing her crotch against the counter.

   The Doc ran to Alexis's side, grasping her wrist.

   "It's time to go," he said.

   "I want to go hog wild and have empty, passionate, sweaty sex in the
aisles," Alexis replied, swaying her titties in the Doc's face.

   "I never thought I'd say 'Not right now', but not right now," the Doc
said, trying to pull the resisting Alexis towards the now half closed fire
doors.  Alexis was too busy swaying to the music to budge.  So Doc placed
his hand over her pussy, his fingers strategically encircling her clit. 
With a deft flick, he made Alexis cum again.  This orgasm made her more
docile, and the Doc was able to lead her out of the shop.

   Once outside, Alexis seemed to come to her senses.  She looked forlornly
at the closed fire doors with the other onlookers, who stared at both the
doors and Alexis.

   Bambi came up with a blanket, which she draped over Alexis's nearly
naked body.

   At last Alexis summoned her remaining strength.

   "You wrecked my sex shop, you bastards, and you're going to pay for it!"

   That was when the Byzantium III Security Force arrived, taking everyone
in for questioning.



   Chapter 3

   Byzantium III was a world unto itself in the deep reaches of
interstellar space.  Several races used it for commercial, social and
sexual intercourse.  Because of this, the platform was rife with plots,
counter-plots and subterfuge all taking place in the revolutions of the
giant centrifuge.

   Keeping a tight control over this bubbling brew was the bio-diverse,
multiethnic peace-keeping Security Force run by Frigadier Thomas
"Left-wing" Stewart, who had earned his nickname by being so conservative
he was in serious danger of becoming a liberal.  From his headquarters on
the outer-most level of the ship, directly against its reinforced hull, the
no-nonsense Frigadier kept careful tabs on the station's denizens.  Heavy
weapons and firearms were verboten, drugs and alcohol were strictly
controlled, and the sex shops well regulated.

   The Frigadier's second in command, Sergeant Dennis Bainter was young and
loyal to his superior.  For a while he had marred his own good looks by
attempting to grow a laser beam-thin mustache just like the Frigadier's. 
Now he merely contented himself to dress in a similar, if somewhat shabbier
manner than that of his superior.

   The good Sergeant was currently a little confused by his new prisoner.
He had arrested many men during his career, but never one quite so
gregarious as this slightly stoned being who sat handcuffed in the chair.

   "Would you like a sonic screwdriver?" the stranger asked.

   "A what?" Bainter asked, looking up from the computer screen where he
had been entering the particulars of this being's arrest.

   "A sonic screwdriver," the stranger said, nearly blinding Bainter with a
powerful smile.  The stranger tried to pull something out of the hip pocket
of his Bermuda shorts, but was stopped by his handcuffs.

   "If you'll just remove these cuffs..."

   "Not a chance," Bainter said.

   "Then if you would reach inside my pocket."

   Against his better judgment, Bainter squirmed his hand inside the pocket
and extracted a cold, rectangular metal object with rounded sides.  He half
expected it to explode as he brought it out in the light.  It was an
ancient style metal hipflask.

   The stranger smiled his intoxicating smile.  "Go ahead, open it up and
poor yourself a shot.  As a doctor, I prescribe two hits."

   Bainter unscrewed the cap and carefully smelled the contents.  Fumes of
alcohol merrily wafted out.  Bainter could not suppress a smile.  He took
an empty cup from the water cooler, poured from the hipflask, and drank. 
Warm fuzzy feelings filled him.

   "Now, what do they call you again?"

   "My friends call me Doc.  Probably because I'm a doctor."

   "Now then, Doc, would you care to tell about that little incident at the
Porno Palace?" Bainter said.  "What was it?  A drug deal gone bad?  You owe
some cartel money?  What?"

   Bainter hoped for a big prosecutorial score which would make his, or the
Frigadier's, career.  He was deeply disappointed.

   "Neither.  But I suspect an invasion is imminent," the stranger said. 
"I'm even willing to bet that, right now, as we speak, somewhere within the
confines of this station there is a pod of Dildeks plotting the overthrow
of this ship."

   "Right, Dildeks."

   Bainter poured another shot from the flask.  And posed another question,
which the Doc answered easily, and then it was the Doc's turn to ask a
question, and Bainter had to wet his whistle with another hit from the
flask to answer, while wondering if maybe taking hits from a prisoner's own
flask and not offering him any was a breach of some sort of police code and
so offered Doc some, but Doc could not partake since his hands were cuffed,
which, Bainter realized after another hit of this superb screwdriver, was
unnecessary as the Doc really was a decent sort of chap.  Eventually Doc
too took his own hit off the flask, as did Bainter, and the two cheered
each other with yet another hit.

   Bainter was about to pursue a different line of cunning questioning
involving the stranger's psychological profile when the door opened and a
tall, thin, nattily dressed man appeared.

   He had black hair beneath a dark green beret, dark eyes, and a thin,
proper mustache which was just as smart as Bainter's salute.  His green
dress uniform was crisp and smart, his leather boots well polished, and his
swagger stick hung from his wrist straight and at attention.

   "Morning Frigadier," Bainter said, standing as stiffly at attention as
the alcohol would allow.

   The Frigadier nodded to Bainter.

   Doc also stood, smiled and offered his hand to the Frigadier, who
pointedly ignored it.  Bainter tried to recall how the stranger's hands
became uncuffed, but the alcoholic haze just wouldn't allow him to think
straight.

   The Frigadier went to his desk and shuffled papers.  Bainter saw that he
held an envelope full of the chips for the case of the missing sex club
patrons which had been stymieing the security force for the last few weeks.

   Bainter and Doc were quiet until the Frigadier addressed them.

   "What have we here?" he finally asked.

   "I don't know," Bainter responded.  "A possible drug..."

   "I think I know," Doc interrupted, upon seeing the Frigadier nearly reel
at the touch of his subordinate's breath.  "It's a Dildek invasion."

   The Frigadier arched an eyebrow.  "Dildeks?"

   "Yes," Doc said.  "Nasty, cybernetically enhanced biological beings with
aspirations for universal domination."

   "Mmmmmm," mused the Frigadier.  "Dildeks?"

   "Yes.  Dildeks.  The bio-mechanical entities with the bulbous heads that
set fire to one of your lower decks.  Surprisingly enough, they actually
have to use humans for locomotion."

   "About that," The Frigadier said.  "I have a report of intense property
damage, as well as fire and indications of heavy armament discharge.  Since
we're sharing a moment of brutal honesty, I have to tell you..." The
Frigadier paused to recollect.

   "Doc," Bainter suggested helpfully.

   "I have to tell you, Doc," the Frigadier pronounced "Doc" as though he
was spitting out a foul tasting substance.  "I don't care about the
property damage.  I do care about the heavy armaments.  And I also care
about that fire.  Both have the potential for destroying the ship.  Now,
are you part of a gang that's involved in some sort of turf battle?"

   "No," Doc said.  "That damage was caused by..."

   "Those mysterious, hovering, heavily armored dildoid beings?" the
Frigadier finished.

   "Now you understand." Doc beamed his high-wattage smile.

   "His story fits with what Alexis and the other witnesses told us,"
Bainter said helpfully.

   The Frigadier shot Bainter a dirty look.  Addressing Doc, he asked, "So
you expect me to believe that this station is about to be overrun by
superintelligent feminine massage products?"

   Doc pondered this for a second.

   "When you put it like that, it does sound like I've been doing too many
mind-altering drugs, which I have.  But I'm sane enough to know that the
Dildeks are an actual threat while the giant bat circling your head is only
an imaginary one."

   "Are you stoned?" the Frigadier asked.

   "I will admit to being slightly gargleblasted."

   "So you're experienced?" Bainter joked.

   "Mellow, but not necessarily stoned.  It's good for putting a proper
perspective on things."

   "What?" asked the now lost Frigadier.

   "I'm sorry, what were we talking about?" Doc asked.

   "Super experienced floating dildos which are planning to take over the
ship?"

   "Really?" Doc said, staring at the Frigadier as though he had just heard
about such beings for the first time.

   The Frigadier began to wonder about Doc's sanity.  So he tried a
different tact.

   "Now, the man we found barely alive in the shop next to the Porno
Palace, who was covered with some sort of viscous fluid, and had electrodes
implanted in his head, genitalia and anus, is he part of your gang?"

   "Sounds more like he was part of the Dildek gang.  Where is he now?" Doc
asked.

   "In the hospital.  But there were no signs of the super intelligent
levitating dildos.  And while we're on the topic of different species, what
planet do you hale from?"

   "I'm a Time Fnord," Doc said, once again displaying his smile.

   "A what?"

   "A Time Fnord."

   The Frigadier pondered this piece of datum for a second.  "I'm not
familiar with that."

   The Doc's smile widened just a trifle.  "I could explain it to you, but
then other Fnords would just come along and erase your memory."

   "Well," the Frigadier said, "We wouldn't want that."

   He shot Bainter a quick look which could have been construed as disgust.

   "In fact, Doc, I am inclined to believe you," the Frigadier finally
said.

   "So you'll start searching for the Dildeks?"

   Once again the Frigadier paused for just a beat.

   "Of course," he said.

   "So I'm free to go?"

   The Frigadier smiled.  "Of course."

   "I believe in a situation of this sort, some sort of economic incentive
is called for," Doc said.

   "Not necessarily," the Frigadier responded.

   "Nonsense," Doc said.  "Now what sort of denomination would you prefer?
Ganymede gelt?  Earth gold?  Perhaps some lucre from the Tarrantino
System?"

   "No sir, I must insist you keep your cash.  You've done nothing which
could constitute a crime, so you're free to go."

   "Really?" Doc said.

   "Of course," the Frigadier said.

   "Then can I ask a question?"

   "Go ahead."

   "Do you score a lot of chicks with those snazzy uniforms?  And if so,
where can I get one?"

   "I think they sell them in the sex shops," Bainter said helpfully.

   The doctor smiled, stood and held out his hand.  "Then I shall wish you
both a very good day and be on my way."

   The Frigadier stood and shook Doc's hand.  Both he and Bainter watched
as Doc left the room.

   "Sir?  May I ask a question?" Bainter said.

   "Yes?"

   "I've never known you to refuse graft before.  Why now?"

   "Because there's no record of his arrival on this ship, and there is
eyewitness testimony that he has access to extraordinary technology; some
sort of stealth space-traveling apparatus, not to mention a flask filled
with alcoholic beverages which never seems to empty," the Frigadier
explained.  "I wouldn't be surprised if his money belt was equally
cornucopian.  Now think, Sergeant Bainter.  Who has this technological
finesse?"

   "The Illuminati?"

   "Very good, Sergeant.  Until I know better, I shall assume this man is
some sort of spy.  And I shall keep a very tight watch on him until I know
who his masters are.  And while we're on the subject, I want a security
workup done on this 'Doc'.  How did he enter our ship?  Where is he
staying? Where has he traveled?  What is his home planet?"

   "I'll get on it right away, sir."

   "Oh, and I haven't forgotten about your earlier outburst during the
Doc's interrogation, not to mention your drinking while on duty," the
Frigadier warned.  "You can expect strict disciplinary action, Sergeant."

   With that, he turned to tap out a note on his computer, and sealed the
resulting chip in an evidence bag, which he handed it to Bainter.

   Chapter 4

   Alexis was waiting for Doc when he left the security forces offices.

   "Do you have a place to stay?" she asked.

   Doc smiled.

   "I'm not going to lie to you," Alexis said.  "I'm upset.  My entire shop
was destroyed.  Now I'll be paying off debts for years and might never get
off this rotten ship.  But you did save my life, so I suppose I owe you and
I will pay you back."

   "It's good karma to repay your debts."

   "Well, you are pretty handy," she said.

   Alexis's apartment was in one of the seedier corridors on Level P of
Byzantium III.  Panels were either falling off the wall of their own
volition, or had been pried off to allow unauthorized access to the power
and communications grids.  Condom wrappers and hypo sprays coagulated in
the corners.

   The Doc got a good eyeful of Alexis's well-rounded ass when she bent to
place her finger on the biometric lock of the door on her apartment.

   As they entered the four room flat, Alexis asked, "How come those
Dildeks, was that the term?"

   "Yes."

   "Well, how come they knew you?"

   "We have a relationship.  A complex relationship."

   "If you treated them like you treated me, I can understand why they'd
want to toast your ass," Alexis said.  "What do they do, hunt for pervs? 
Though that doesn't sound so bad."

   "To them, any non-cyborg life form is a perv," Doc said.  "That includes
you, by the way.  How would you like to spend your life inside one of those
metal cans, endlessly and mindlessly orgasming your life away?"

   "That's what I do here in Byzantium III."

   Alexis studied the Doc.

   "Since you did save me, I suppose I'm obligated to give you a blowjob,"
she said.

   "I could be a gentleman and say no, but..." Doc unzipped his fly.

   Alexis sighed as she sank to her knees in front of him.

   "Chivalry is dead," she mumbled

   She was nearly struck in the face by one of the two fat penises arising
from Doc's crotch.  One was situated atop the other.  Alexis gaped in
surprise.  Doc merely smiled.

   "We Time Fnords never know if we're coming or going," he said.  "I might
also add that blueballs is a terrible and potentially fatal phenomena for
us Time Fnords."

   "Like I haven't heard that one before."

   Alexis resigned herself to getting some spunk either in her hair or down
her blouse, depending on which of Doc's dicks she had in her mouth at the
time of his orgasm.

   She wondered if they would spurt together, or if they were individually
connected to different systems.

   Doc's balls felt very, very full and uncomfortably heavy.  Alexis was in
for a meal.

   Alexis sucked the lower head.  The upper playfully tapped her forehead,
leaving traces of pre-cum.  A playful bite brought a moan from Doc.

   Suddenly his prickhead bucked in her mouth, as did the one aimed at her
brow.  Somehow Alexis was able to get both pricks within her mouth and not
drown.  Both spurted at the same time, Alexis marveled.

   When it was done Alexis wiped her chin.  The Doc had a pleased, goofy
expression on his face.  Alexis gave him a wink.  "That was quite tasty,"
she said.

   "Time Fnord spunk is a delicacy in some quadrants of the galaxy.  Now
why don't you bend over and I'll give you another Vulcan clit massage like
I did in the shop."

   Once in Alexis' room, Doc had his companion get on her hands and knees
on the bed.  He savored the view of the pink upturned cheeks of her rump,
the little dimple of her rosebud anus, and moistening pink lips of her
puss.

   He slid a finger lightly over her outer pussy lips with is right hand,
gently probing to find the wetter insides of the glossy pink labial petals
and massaging the glossy black pubic hair.  Alexis sighed in contentment.

   Doc now used his other hand, alternating stroking or spanking the fat
globes of pink flesh.  He delved into the pink crack to tickle the dusky
crater of her tight little sphincter.  With one fingertip he massaged it in
a circular motion until the tight rosebud was no longer quite so tight.

   Alexis gurgled.

   "What are you planning to do there, Doc?" she asked.

   Doc continued his two-handed stroking of her now sweaty, steamy feminine
crack.

   "As you should remember," he said, "I've got two dicks."

   "How could I forget?" Alexis said, then groaned.

   "If I'm going to fuck you properly, I'll need a place to put that second
dick.  And guess where that one will go," Doc said.  Alexis could not see
his face, but figured he was smiling.

   Doc worked some dripping pussy juice up into the slowly stretching bung.

   Alexis could only groan in anticipation.

   Tiring of the lubricating game, Doc turned Alexis onto her back, and
slowly slid his lower prick up her steamy moist cleft.  His upper prick
slid saucily across her enflamed clit.  Alexis began to speak in a new
guttural language of lust as the fat head jostled her clitty.

   "If you like that, just wait till your back on you hands and knees, with
both holes brimming with cock."

   Alexis moaned loudly as her twat clamped down on one prick stem, while
the other diddled her clitty until her pussy was a steamy mess of cum
dripping down the crack of her rump and onto the bedspread.

   It was far from her last orgasm of the night.



   Chapter 5

   After the fiasco at the Porno Palace, the Dildeks made a strategic
retreat through the storage bays lining the central axis.  From there, the
Supreme-Client had fled to the Dildek's primary headquarters on Byzantium
III, where it and several underlings were engaged in a heated tactical
discussion.

   "WEAPONS MUST BE RECALIBRATED!  MORE TESTING IS NECESSARY!  CURRENT
TIMEFRAME IS UNACCEPTABLE!  MISSION MUST BE ABORTED!" said Six-Of-Nine.

   "ABORTION WILL NOT BE TOLERATED!" Supreme-client Dildek said, training
its laser at the dissenting Dildek.

   "ABORTION WILL NOT BE TOLERATED!" agreed Six-Of-Nine.

   "NEW SUBROUTINE TO DOMINATION PROGRAM: FEMALE SPECIMENS MUST BE CAPTURED
FOR STUDY.  WEAPONS MUST BE RECALLIBRATED!  FEMALES MUST BE OBTAINED
SWIFTLY!" Supreme-client Dildek ordered.

   "That won't be a problem," said a human voice from the shadows.

   "HOW WILL YOU PROVIDE NECESSARY FEMALES?"

   "By using the phone book and calling up some hookers, you crazy fucking
paisons."

   Chapter 6

   When Alexis awoke the next morning her ass and pussy were pleasantly
sore.  She sighed contentedly and stretched on the bed.  Her arm did not
come into contact with the humanoid form she expected.  Doc was gone.

   But Bambi was up and puttering about the kitchenette area in a t-shirt.
Alexis padded over in her panties, aglow from being properly and truly
fucked.

   "Well, look who's finally up?" Bambi said with a twinkle in her eye. 
"From your moans last night, I was tempted to join you."

   Alexis felt herself blushing.

   "By the way, Doc said he was sorry he couldn't keep shafting you this
morning, but he had some errands to run."

   "Typical," Alexis grumbled.  "I'm nearly out of business, and he's out
the door."

   Bambi leaned over and tweaked Alexis's nipple.

   "Girl, you're still a licensed orgasmic engineer, right?"

   "Yessss..."

   "Well, if you need scratch, let's go engineering," Bambi said.

   Alexis was summoning up several arguments against this when the door
chime rang.  Bambi walked over to answer it.

   Sergeant Bainter stood in the hall, looking ill at ease.  He handed
Bambi the chip the Frigadier had prepared.

   "So you've been a naughty boy again, Bainter?" Bambi teased as she
placed the chip in a wall-reader to view its contents.

   "Dear Bambi, Sergeant Bainter has a big mouth, Punish according with as
much disciplinary action as ten credits will allow, signed the Frigadier,"
Bambi read.  She wrinkled her nose and added, "I see the Frigadier is as
cheap as usual."

   Alexis smirked.  She knew Bambi considered Bainter cute, and suspected
Bainter would get far more than ten credits worth of action.  Which also
meant that, for the time being, Alexis had to be out of the apartment.

   She sighed as she went to her room to dress, ignoring the shuffling of
Bainter and Bambi as they prepared themselves for their upcoming domination
session.

   After leaving the apartment, Alexis slowly made her way to her burnt out
shop.  When she arrived at the Porno Palace she found that the yellow
Security Forces crime scene tape had been broken, and the door was
partially open.  She looked inside but saw only darkness.  She did hear
something.

   Alexis slipped inside and hit the lights, some of which still worked. 
The charred remains of the shop were displayed in the demi gloom.  An
acrid, pungent, charcoal smell permeated the air.  Alexis sighed as she
viewed her blackened, smoke-damaged merchandise.  Then she heard the
scuffling noise again.

   She grabbed a long double-headed dildo, which was only slightly worse
for wear and lay perversely near the door.  She hefted it as though it were
a truncheon, slowly walking through the store, her feet squishing into the
still wet rug.  There was a cold wet rawness in the room, probably due to
the misting water action of the fire prevention system.

   She banged her foot against a box, cursed, then gave up trying to
surprise whatever burglar was looting her shop.

   "All right," she announced into the dark.  "I've got a weapon, and I'm
in a really bad mood, so don't even wonder if I'm willing to use it."

   "I would love to see you use that," said a familiar voice.

   The Doc appeared from the new hole in the side of the wall.

   Alexis was both relieved and peeved.  She let the double dong slip to
her side.  "What the hell are you doing here?"

   "I'm doing a little investigative work," Doc said, a smile once again on
his lips.

   "Were you deputized by the Security Forces or something?"

   "Not at all.  I know these Dildeks, and they are not nice machines. 
They're usually up to something, and that something is seldom good."

   "Did you find anything?"

   "No," Doc said.  "The only thing I've found is that your shop needs a
lot of cleaning, and that you make these really erotic noises when you are
filled to the brim with hot throbbing cock."

   Alexis blushing when she heard someone enter the front door.  Another
woman had entered the shop.  She was short, somewhat stocky, but pleasingly
plump, with dark hair and eyes.

   "We're closed," Alexis said with a little more anger in her voice than
she had intended.  She looked down at the double-headed dildo still in her
hand, and let it drop to the floor where it made an embarrassing thud.

   "I can see that," the newcomer said.  She reached into her business suit
and pulled out a small card with an embedded holographic image of a human
wearing shaded eyeglasses.  "I'm with the Dominique Fiduciary Services."

   "My insurance company?"

   "Yes.  My name is Evania Strump, and I'm here to assess your claim on
this shop." The insurance agent looked around, wrinkling her nose.  "And I
see those claims will be substantial."

   "Actually, this looks pretty good considering that Dildeks were
involved." The Doc stepped forward, his mega-smile once again in evidence.

   "I'm sorry?  You are?"

   "A friend of your client," Doc said, making a curt bow, gently grasping
her hand and giving it a light kiss.  Strump was a little surprised, though
pleasurably so.

   "What was that you were saying about dildos?" she asked.

   "Dildeks," replied Doc, who was standing far too close to Strump.  But
then Strump was giving Doc the once over herself.  Alexis was about to make
a half-hearted protest when she caught the insurance agent's eye.  It was
not a pleasurable contact.  Alexis knew whatever she said would not be
believed.

   "Yes, the Dildeks are a very nasty race," said Doc, casually draping an
arm about the shoulders of Strump.  "Just look at the damage their lasers
can do."

   He walked her over to the carved out chunk of wall.  His hand crept ever
closer to her skirted rump.  Alexis noticed a wriggling motion near a
broken box of telepathic prophylactics which had fallen to the floor.  Six
thin latex strips were undulating across the rug like fish seeking a
spawning area somewhere near Doc and Evania's feet.

   But long before they arrived, Doc was escorting Evania to Alexis's
office, on of his hands deeply embedded in the crevice of her butt.

   Alexis could not believe her eyes.  She was torn between feelings of
anger, betrayal and possibly gratitude.  So were the prophylactics, which
wiggled impotently against the closed door.



   Chapter 7

   Bambi's pussy had a fresh and minty taste, Bainter decided.  Piquant,
but with a touch of spearmint.  At least that was what he could gather from
the pair of bikini briefs she had stuffed in his mouth after tying him face
down on the bed and setting up an electric spanking machine to lightly fry
his glutes as he watched porno vids on the entertainment set.  Bainter
shifted his hips to fit his erection more comfortably against the mattress.
His ass felt raw in-between the spurts of the spanker's painful electronic
stimuli.

   Bambi strutted into the room in a see-through nightie, her jug jiggling
jauntily.  "How's my nasty little soldier doing?" Bambi said.  "Oh, your
poor ass is all red."

   The phone rang, and Bambi answered it.  She held a very perfunctory
conversation, discussing rates with whoever was on the other side.  When
she hung up, she gave Bainter a wink, and bent to extract the soggy panties
from the Sergeant's mouth.

   "I've got to make a house call," she said.

   "So you'll let me go?" Bainter shook his wrists, which were confined
with timer-controlled handcuffs.

   "Oh no," Bambi said with a sexy smirk.  "I haven't finished with that
magnificent ass of yours."

   She gave it a hearty smack with her hand, yelping when the spanker went
off and caught her knuckles.  She then picked up the phone to call Alexis

   ****

   Alexis and Bambi met on Level A, the outermost ring where gravity neared
earth normal for humans, and where only the richest could afford to live.

   Alexis's rump still twitched from Doc's dual dingus buttfuck, and she
rued not taking a bathroom break before undertaking this adventure.

   "So did you see Doc?" Bambi asked while looking at the instructions on
her phone and watching apartment numbers.

   "Never mind him," Alexis said, trying to keep anger out of her voice. 
"He's getting it on with my insurance agent."

   "Hmmmm," Bambi mused.  "That could be a good thing, right?"

   "Oh let's just get this over with," Alexis muttered.

   They stopped before Door A-1.  Alexis pressed the videophone announcer.

   "You ever been in this section of the ship before?" Bambi asked.

   "Not me.  I doubt I could afford to even walk through here.  There must
be meters of free room."

   "WHO IS THERE?" said a voice over the loudspeaker.

   "Is it me, or is the speaker for this apartment really fucked up?"
Alexis asked.

   "Your orgasmic engineers are here," Bambi said into the doorbell's
microphone.

   The door opened, revealing two Dildeks with their lasers pointed at the
two women.

   "Run!" Alexis screamed.



   Chapter 8

   Byzantium III's infirmary spanned four levels of the cylindrical
station. Getting inside was not the big problem, Doc discovered.  Locating
someone within those four sections proved to be the true limiting factor.
But Doc was diligent, inquisitive and patient, feeling very mellow after
the nice little nooner he had given insurance agent Strump, whom he'd left
totally fucked out in the back office of Alexis's shop.

   Doc eventually learned via some judicious hacking into the hospital's
computer system, plus a little subtle interrogation of the staff, that the
room number of the patient from yesterday's fire.

   Getting past the guard posted by the Frigadier was a little more
difficult, but not much.  Doc located a scrub room and donned beige
doctor's scrubs over his Hawaiian shirt.  He even gave the guard a dazzling
smile as he passed to enter the room.

   According to the patient's chart, his name was Bernard Binkle.  Binkle
lay face up on the bed, breathing shallowly.  Electronic monitors hummed
and beeped around him, as though carrying on a conversation with one
another.

   Upon Doc's entry, Binkle began muttering.  Taking their cue, the
machines began beeping at a slightly faster pace.

   "Too much.  Too much."

   "Too much what?" asked Doc, bending closer to hear.

   Binkle made no answer.  So Doc checked Binkle's neck.  He found the
tell-tale scars of Dildek subjugation, electrodes near the base of the
skull and spinal column.

   Binkle rolled over onto his stomach.

   "Yes!  Anal probe me again.  Yeah.  Yeah baby!"

   Wherever Binkle was, he was living out his fantasy.  According to his
chart, he was on several sorts of pain-dulling medications.  Doc made a
note of the concoction so he could try it out later while riding JOINT.  By
his calculations Binkle should be in a highly suggestible state given the
amount of drugs in his system.

   Doc leaned over the bed to whisper into Binkle's ear.

   "Who is probing you?" he asked.

   "Them!" Binkle gasped.  "The metal can guys."

   "Why are they probing you?"

   "They ain't charging, I ain't asking."

   Doc paused to consider his next question.

   "Are they saying anything while probing you?"

   "Yeah, some crazy shit about their weapon being the right caliber.  The
invasion being on schedule.  They really get into this role playing stuff."

   ****

   The Frigadier was not pleased.  There were now several reports of
orgasmic engineers disappearing over the last few hours.  These
disappearances were focused around Level A, the ritzy section, which
smelled of money, which meant problems, and which meant he would prefer to
shunt it off onto Bainter.  Unfortunately Bainter was also missing in
action.  Compounded with the reported disappearances of sex shop patrons on
Level Q, Byzantium III was swiftly becoming a kidnapper's paradise.

   ****

   "RECALLIBRATION OF WEAPONS COMPLETE!  DOMINATION OF HOMINOID LIFE FORMS
ASSURED!" The Supreme-client Dildek was as pleased as any mechanized being
could be.  He whirled about in an intricate midair victory dance.

   "You're welcome." said a voice from the shadows.

   "SARCASM DETECTOR ACTIVATED!  WHAT IS HOMINOID'S HEAVY-HANDED MORALISTIC
POINT?"

   "You've got what you wanted, with my help.  But now I want my payment,
you rat humpers."

   "HOMINOID KNOWS TOO MUCH!  PROTECTION OF SUPRISE ELEMENT OF PLAN
DICTATES THAT HE BE EXTERMINATED!" said Dildek Five-Of-Eight.

   "Hominoid knows how to secretly mine Dildek ship in case they get any
more of those funny exterminate-loose-ends ideas," said the voice from the
dark.

   Slowly the figure limped out of the shadows of the posh apartment,
ignoring the pointed ray guns of the Dildeks.  He was a man who looked to
be composed of wiry sinews covered by skin, with barely enough mass to keep
from being knocked on his ass by a particle of beta-radiation.  Wisps of
white hair surrounded his crinkled head like a crazy halo.  But his blue
eyes held an uncanny intelligence.

   "My great-great-great grandfather made his fortune making the Mafia a
publicly traded company, so I know how to do business with gavones like
you, capice?"

   Supreme-client Dildek took several seconds to calculate various
strategic permutations in it's minmax programming.

   "HOMINOID MAKES EXCELLENT POINT!" it finally concluded.  "WHEEL OUT THE
DEVICE!"

   Two Dildeks pushed forward a floating platform upon which lay a huge
ball of blue glass.  Purple lines of electricity slid lazily along its
surface.  One of the Dildeks pushed the surface with an arm.  The room was
filled with a green light similar to the ones from the Dildek's orgasmic
rays.  The human basked in the glow, holding out his hands as though he
were warming them over an open flame.

   "Oh yeah," he groaned.  "That's the stuff."



   Chapter 9

   The Dildeks burst out of the doors of the Ochre Rose like solar flares
out of a star.  They clogged the corridors of Byzantium III, causing people
before them to either think they were new advertisements for penis
extenders or a new alien life form which preferred wearing funky S&M
encounter suits.

   At least that's what they thought until the green rays began to be used,
forcing people to fall on the floor and spasm in intensely painful
pleasure.

   The Dildek crew boldly marched through the hallways, rhythmically
chanting "EX-SPERMINATE!" while mowing down all who did not run.

   One angry citizen opened his door.

   "Pipe down!" he yelped as the phalanx of Dildeks swished past him.  One
stopped just in front of his door, pointed its laser arm at him, and opened
green fire.

   The man fell, half inside, half outside his apartment as his body
climaxed in sexual relief.

   The first reports the Frigadier received about the invasion were
actually complaints about public lewdness, which in a ship like Byzantium
III was difficult to fathom.  The next wave of reports told of people
accosting the transgressors and being shot with some bizarre sort of ray
for their troubles.

   One young communications officer looked up from his console to the
Frigadier.

   "I think you should see this sir," he said.  "I think there's some sort
of protest march on Level Q."

   "Frigging hippies.  What are they whining about now?  Totalitarian rule?
Police brutality?  Universal peace?" the Frigadier asked.

   "Well sir, I hope it's police brutality.  That's what I bet on in the
office pool," one underling said.

   But the Frigadier was not listening.  His attention was focused on the
screen in front of his communications officer.  On it, the pandemonium that
was occurring on Level Q played out.

   It's a march of heavy metal robotic mushrooms, the Frigadier thought. 
They all sported small, spindly arms which looked like they could be broken
off with a gust of air.  On the other hand, those arms spurted green light
which, when striking man or woman, brought the victim to the ground within
seconds.  And the cries coming from the victims were half terror, half
ecstasy.

   "Should we get the riot gear, sir?"

   "Negative on that soldier, I don't think it would do us any good, and
we'd just have to clean it up afterward.  What the hell are those mushrooms
saying?"

   "Ex-sperminate?"

   After watching a crowd get mercilessly mowed down by the eerie green
rays, the Frigadier began barking orders.  "I want a riot squad on Level Q
now!"

   Within minutes a squad of thirty beings was arrayed in one of the side
corridors just off Level Q.  They were clad in riot gear; shields, helmets,
electro-shock truncheons and protectively padded black uniforms.  They
looked like a wall of black.  At the command of the Frigadier, who watched
from the main security office, they marched into the hallway where the
pandemonium was occurring.  Their boots slammed heavily onto the floor.

   At the rush of the riot police, the Dildeks turned their fire from the
citizens they were mowing down to the advancing wall.  Their rays were
blocked by the shields.  A quick switch of armaments allowed the Dildeks to
fire their ruby lasers, slicing swaths of armor from the shields, frying
suits and starting small fires.

   As the front line of the riot police faltered, a second wave of Dildeks
again fired with the green rays.  These rays penetrated the dark glass of
the protective visors, activating the riot squad's individual pleasure
centers.  First a few, then a dozen security officers fell writhing upon
the floor and screaming in ecstasy.  Unused to being pummeled, the
remainder of the squad began to panic.

   Back in the command center, the Frigadier was beside himself in
frustration.

   "What the fuck is going on?" he shouted at a communications officer.

   "Vital signs for half of the squad are at critical, sir."

   "They are being overcome?"

   "That's one way of putting it."

   The Frigadier sat in stony silence as orgasmic screams and Dildek
chatter filled the airwaves.  Calls of "Retreat!" became sporadic, then
stopped all together, leaving the room in a cold electronic hissing
silence.

   The door to the communications center smashed open.  The Frigadier
looked up in surprise as the door frame filled with the hulking
metal-studded phallic presence of a Dildek killing machine.  One arm
spurted a ruby red line of fire, frying the bank of computers and
communications equipment.  With the other, a line of green mowed down the
personnel until they were quivering wrecks of orgasmic bliss.

   A deeply distorted electronic cry tinged with rage filled the air:
"EX-SPERMINATE!  EX-SPERMINATE!"

   The Frigadier stood his ground and fumbled with his sidearm.  He almost
cleared it from its holster when he was forced to duck the red ray.  The
air crackled as water vapor in the air superheated.  A small explosion
behind him knocked his beret off his head.

   Heavy weapon fire filled the air as someone, somewhere had managed to
procure ordinance with a little more punch than the electro-truncheons. 
Another explosion, this one far more powerful than the dinky console one,
filled the room with shrapnel, heat and smoke.

   Hands grabbed the Frigadier, pulling him across the floor.  He didn't
remember standing, but was suddenly face to face with three subordinates.

   "Damn it!  Order a general retreat to Deck C, get me the tapes for this
fiasco and call a meeting of all the squad leaders.  And find out where the
hell Bainter is!"



   Chapter 10

   The Frigadier set up an emergency command post in the men's room of Deck
C on platform L.  Someone had procured an electronic projector.  This sat
precariously on the sink, flashing pictures above the urinals on the wall
opposite.  The tiles of those walls played havoc with the digital images.

   The Frigadier strode in front of the dusty, battle-scarred personnel
leaning against the sink.

   "People, we have a hell of a situation her in Byzantium III.  We are
being attacked by a life form previously unknown to us.  We have lost
control of the communications station as well as the bridge.  They have
access to the hyperspace gate.  Our best weapons are heavy beam.  Anything
lighter is ineffective against their hardened exterior shells."

   Pictures flashed with each of the Frigadier's words: here a soldier was
shot down by one of the rays from the penile-shaped invader, another showed
the wide-eyed smile of a Dildek victim.

   "So, my question to you is simply this; what the hell are we going to
do? I'm open to any suggestion."

   The team looked to each other.  Silence answered the Frigadier's
question.  Then the flush of a toilet.

   Doc stepped out of a stall, adjusting his fly, wearing his nova-like
smile beneath his shaded, wire-rimmed glasses.  He looked resplendent in
his Hawaiian shirt, opened tastefully to the tops of his pecs.

   "Gentlemen, I believe I can be of some assistance."

   "Who the fuck is that?"

   "Call me Doc."

   If the Frigadier's look had been a meteor, Doc would have been knocked
out of orbit.  The Frigadier shot his middle finger up in the air, a
timeless gesture of the bird.  "Doc, it hurts me when I do this."

   "Then don't do that," Doc said, ignoring the gesture and hostile stares.
He sauntered over to the digital slide machine, tinkered with it until a
clear shot of a Dildek showed on the wall.

   "This," Doc said, "is a creature called a Dildek.  They are a race of
sadists."

   Doc tinkered with the digital slide again.  Now the picture displayed
was of a soldier with a smile on his face, drool on his chin, and a big
stain in the crotch of his pants.

   "What we see here is an incapacitated soldier," Doc said.  "With a messy
dry-cleaning bill.

   "Apparently the Dildeks have a new weapon in their arsenal, which causes
every pleasurable neuron in a body to fire off at once, creating an intense
ecstasy bordering on pain."

   Doc paused in his presentation to smile at the befuddled team.

   "What is one of the requirements of life?" he asked.

   "Sex?" one confused security officer asked.

   "Besides that," Doc said.

   There was a pause.

   "Drinking?" another asked.

   "How about eating?" Doc said.  The crew shrugged and conceded the point,
so Doc continued; "Eating provides energy, and energy is required by all
living beings."

   Now Doc reached behind him and pulled out a vibrator.  Displaying it
proudly like a sword in the cramped confines of the restroom, Doc turned it
on.  It jiggled saucily in the fluorescent light.  His pause for dramatic
effect was a trifle too long.

   "Why are you looking like a wanker holding a variable speed dildo?" the
Frigadier asked.

   Doc smiled.  "Glad you asked.  This," he thrust out the vibrator,
"represents a Dildek.  And this..." Doc unscrewed the base of the vibrator
to extract two batteries.  These he held in his other hand, clicking them
together.  "This represents you.  You are merely an energy source for the
Dildeks."

   "I thought the batteries were," one security man said.

   "No, I was using an analogy."

   "Right," said the Frigadier.  "Let's start planning to relieve the
Dildeks of their batteries."

   "No, no.  That's not what I was saying.  I was saying that you were the
batteries.  If the Dildeks manage to capture you, you will be sentenced to
a life of sexual subjugation.  You don't want that, do you?"

   "Depends on whether it's a really sexy woman doing the subjugating?"
replied one security man.

   Doc stared.  After counting to five, he continued.  "First off, that was
a rhetorical question requiring no answer.  Second, do those mechanical
knobby beings look remotely like a sexy woman?"

   The security man considered.  "Well, if she's wearing a really tight,
metal-studded corset, then..."

   "So what is your point, Doc?" interrupted the Frigadier.

   Doc's smile had been replaced by a mask of bewilderment.  "I don't know
what my point is.  I lost track of my fucking point because of that
asshole."

   "Who you calling an asshole?" The security man took a step forward, only
to be waved back by the Frigadier.

   "Then maybe you could explain this," the Frigadier said.  "Why do they
bellow all the time?"

   "Ahh," said the Doc, the smile once again returned to his face.  "That
would be a mystery known only to the creators of the Dildek race."

   "You'd think that a race with that amount of mechanical and engineering
sophistication would find a better means of communications than shouting.
Radio.  Short waves.  Light beams," the Frigadier said.

   "Uhhmmm, yesss," said Doc.

   "Well, where are they from originally?"

   "That's lost in the mists of time," Doc said.  "Some say they were
created during the Libido Wars, where entire planetary systems were wiped
out in waves of sexual frenzies.  The survivors of those wars outlawed sex,
preferring to use drugs and meditation to combat any erotic feelings. 
Eventually they sent out probes to search for lust and eradicate it
wherever it was found.  It would be the crowning irony if those probes were
in fact now the Dildeks, which require the use of sexual energy of other
beings to live.

   "Then again, others believe the Dildeks to be genetically altered
humanoid lawyers.  Still other theories say that the first Dildeks were
powered by small rodents on tread wheels with electrodes attached to their
genitals.  Whatever their origin, they are an ancient, evil race which
sexually subjugates servitor races."

   "But you've got a time machine, right?" said the Frigadier.

   "Yes."

   "So why don't you go find them and wipe them out before they cause all
this damage?"

   "Because I'd have to know where to look.  They're very sneaky.  You
yourselves are going to have a difficult time finding their lair on this
ship."

   The conversation paused at this point with the arrival of Sergeant
Bainter.  The timer had elapsed on his cuffs, freeing him to dress and
quickly make his way to the emergency rendezvous point when he realized the
ship was under siege.

   "Nice of you to join us, Sergeant," the Frigadier said.  "Have a seat."

   "I'd rather stand, sir."

   The Frigadier harrumphed.  "I doubt we'll have trouble finding their
headquarters, Doc.  We've got this place so well monitored there's a daily
office pool on what color panties the female ambassadors will wear..."

   "Speaking of which," one security man interrupted.

   "Silver," piped up another.

   There was a general muttering.  "Damn!" said Bainter.  "I had my money
on the jade g-strings."

   The sharp smack of the Frigadier's swagger stick onto the countertop
brought silence to the room.

   "As I was saying, we have total surveillance over the station."

   "Then why don't you already know where the Dildeks are coming from," Doc
asked.  "They've obviously got some sort of nest from which they're
tunneling out of.  So with all your mighty total surveillance, where is
this nest located?"

   "Errr, we only have partial surveillance, sir," said Bainter.

   "What?" snapped the Frigadier.

   "Gotti," said Bainter.



   Chapter 11

   Alexis awoke.  Her arms hurt, so she tried to turn over.  She could not.
It took an extra second for her to realize through her grogginess that she
was lying on her back, that she was naked, and she was bound.

   The shock of this cleared away any lingering mental cobwebs.

   The last thing she remembered was she and Bambi being tied to tables by
the Dildeks, who then proceeded to test their horrid beam weapons on the
pair until they were wriggling, orgasmic messes begging to be fucked
properly.  The Dildeks had finally calibrated their beams correctly, and
the two women had orgasmed into unconsciousness.

   Now that she was awake, Alexis felt cold, hungry, and a little gamy in
the crotch.

   Something made her look to her side.  A spindly old man stood there,
leering at her.  He wore an old bathrobe, open to the waist and displaying
a thin chest adorned with an ornate gold chain.  Alexis remembered him
leering as she and Bambi were experimented upon.

   "Who are you?" she asked.

   "Don't be nervous," he said.

   "I'm naked and tied up in a strange apartment.  Yes, I'm nervous,"
Alexis said with as slight a quiver to her voice could manage.

   "That never bothered me," the man replied.

   Alexis only stared.

   The man staggered up and honked one of her tits.

   "Hey!" Alexis protested.  "What kind of perv are you?  And you had
better not have raped me while I was unconscious!"

   "Baddabing, babe.  I can't do those things anymore," the man said. 
"I've gotta get my jollies from cheap thrills."

   With that, he honked her other tit lightly.  Alexis struggled in her
bonds, wishing she had one foot free so she could deliver a swift kick to
his nuts.

   "Who the hell do you think you are?  J.  Paul Gotti?"

   "As a matter of fact..."

   ****

   "So you are saying that there is a large security gap in Level A due to
the presence of J.  Paul Gotti?" the Frigadier asked.

   "I'm afraid so, sir.  That was part of the contract for him helping us
to build Byzantium III," Bainter said.

   The Frigadier pondered this bit of datum.

   "I should think the Dildek lair would be closer to Level Q.  That is
where they were first spotted, and that is where they have breached our
station.  But before we get to all that, Doc, just how do you remove Dildek
batteries?"

   "That is an excellent question, Frigadier.  I probably should have
thought of an answer to it before starting my little speech," Doc said.

   The Frigadier "harrumphed" in disgust.  It was a masterful one.

   After a few more seconds of contemplation, the Frigadier said "Gear up.
We're going to Level Q to stop this invasion."

   "Oh, whoa," said Doc.  "I thought I was nuts, and I've even snorted
dilithium crystals.  I really don't think that that's a good idea."

   "It's as good as any I've heard today," the Frigadier said as the men
started trooping out of the rest room.

   Doc dogged the squad as they made their way to an emergency equipment
room.  While the men donned spare body armor, electro-shock truncheons and
riot gear, the Doc tried to dissuade them.

   "Frigadier, I firmly advise against this raid," Doc said.  "It's
tactically unsound, strategically unwise, and any other word which can be
fitted with the prefix 'un-' to denote how utterly idiotic it is."

   "There's more than tactics to consider," the Frigadier said.  "There's
honor, prestige, reputation.  I refuse to be forever known as the man who
let Byzantium III be overrun by high-tech dildoes and survived to jerk off
over it.  We will penetrate their lair and stop their diabolical scheme, or
die trying."

   "I like a good penetration as well as the next being.  But I have got to
tell you that your scheme is something other than else," Doc said.

   The Frigadier stared long and hard at the Doc.

   "There are some things in life," the Frigadier said, "which a druggie
spy like you will never understand."

   He then turned to the remainder of his squad.

   "Men," he said.  "This is a suicide mission.  I know that.  So I'm not
ordering any of you to accompany me on it.  Anyone not wishing to save
their honor need not come."

   Everyone, save for Bainter and Doc, stepped forward and saluted the
Frigadier.

   The Frigadier eyed Bainter.  "You're not coming?"

   "No sir.  Someone will have to shut down the hyperspace gate to slow
their progress should you be unsuccessful."

   "Very well," the Frigadier responded.  Beneath his breath, he mumbled
something which sounded suspiciously like "pussy".



   Chapter 12

   Who is the mysterious multi-trillionaire J.  Paul Gotti?

   According to all the scandal rags, these basic facts were known; J. 
Paul Gotti was the great-great grandson of the legendary Mafia chieftain
Frankie "Jiggy-with-it" Gotti who had single-handedly transformed that
thuggish and illegal organization into a publicly traded thuggish and
illegal company on the stock market.  Generations of graft and insider
trading had made J.  Paul a very, very rich man.  His upbringing had made
him equally flamboyant.  Often he skipped board meetings to indulge in his
twin passions, women and solar sailing.

   Unfortunately for Gotti, while sailing his specially constructed craft
through an asteroid field something had gone wrong and he had crashed.  The
subsequent hospitalization and convalescence had left Gotti with a few
quirks.  One was an addiction to painkillers.  Another was a penchant for
voyeurism.

   Eventually he helped finance Byzantium III's construction in return for
a luxury suite of rooms on the outermost hull of the ship.  There he spent
his time parlaying his fortunes into the sexual video markets, walking
around in a bathrobe, rarely eating, and doing who knew what else.  Since
his accident he had become even more obsessed with secrecy.

   What the scandal rags did not know was that Gotti had developed another
quirk; a passion for human/robotic hybridization.  This was due to his
flagging libido.  Nothing seemed to cure it, so he clung to the wild hope
that some mechanical technology would resurrect his erection.

   Somehow he eventually learned of the Dildek race.  When he finally made
personal contact with them, he did what Gottis throughout the generations
had done; he cut a secret deal.  He would feel pleasure again in return for
giving them secret access to Byzantium III.

   Since his private suite was so expansive, no one noticed the strange
Dildek ships with their even stranger cargoes entering the space station
and sneaking down the long central commercial corridor and into the Ochre
Rose.  Indeed, no one had even personally seen Gotti in seven years.

   Until now.

   Alexis looked at the thin face, the whitened, frizzled hair and insane
blue eyes which were scanning her and Bambi's bodies like those of a hungry
vulture.

   "Why are you helping the Dildeks?" she asked.

   Gotti scowled.  "Back ten years ago I frickin' crashed my solar sail
ship.  Months of hospital stays and medications stopped the fusion in my
core.  After my accident I couldn't get it up or off.  So I was in, what do
you call it, inner fucking turmoil?  I was longing for human companionship,
but unable to achieve it.  Eventually I stumbled across the Dildek race. 
They were perfect."

   "Perfect?  They bounce off the walls and scream orders at each other."

   "They're a blend, a meld, of the biological and the mechanical.  Did you
know there are beings inside those metal shells, just coming and coming to
supply the Dildek's with power?"

   "I'd heard that," Alexis said.  "But do you mean you couldn't get it up,
so you sold out Byzantium III for a hard-on?"

   Gotti blinked.  "It sounds so crass when you say it.  But yes, I guess I
did."

   "Well, from where I'm lying, it didn't work."

   Gotti looked down at his robe, which had opened during his tirade to
display his flaccid dick.  He looked back at Alexis.

   "That will change," he growled.

   He shuffled off through a doorway, his slippers scuffing the rug.  He
was gone for only a few seconds, returning with a device obviously of
Dildek design.  It was a rough blue orb studded with metal rivets, with one
phallic pole sticking up opposite a flattened bottom, purple electrical
waves undulating within it.  Carefully, like a man caring for a new born
babe, Gotti laid it on the floor.

   "You sluts think you have it all, sashaying your asses in skintight
clothing, trying to get to me, knowing I can't do squat.  Fugheddaboutit!
This device changes all that," he said.

   He pressed one of the rivets.

   "Don't do that!" Alexis cried.

   Green light arced through the room, filling ever nook and cranny, and
seeming to cause a sizzling sound.  Alexis's loins lurched off the table as
though jolted by electricity, a low groan came from her mouth.  Gotti's
body stiffened as well, though not his prick.  The green intensified.  Even
the unconscious Bambi groaned.

   ****

   Doc and Bainter sat in the ruined security offices.  Bainter had just
spent ten minutes gaining control of the few computers still on-line.  A
sappy pastel screen featuring a a wavering window pane appeared on all the
remaining monitors.  Doc recognized the dreaded symbol of the ancient
software company Micro-Hardon, one of the most predatory and piss-poor
software companies ever to ply its shoddy goods across the universe. 
Whatever that company's connections to the Dildeks, he did not care to
speculate.

   Bainter had eventually been able to hack through the new security codes
and shut down the hypergate.  Now he and Doc sat and listened to the radio
communications between the Frigadier and his remaining security forces.  It
was not going well.  Several casualties and two fatalities had further
eroded the force's potency.

   "Task force one taking heavy fire!" one panicky voice crackled over the
radio.

   "Continue penetration!" ordered the Frigadier's voice.

   Doc could stand it no longer.  He grabbed the microphone.

   "No, Frigadier!  You've got to withdraw!" he said.

   "What!  Premature evacuation!  Never!  Stay off the frequency, Doc!"

   Within a minute it was over.  There was one last transmission, which was
either a death rattle or an orgasmic blowout.  Then the airwaves went
eerily silent save for the hiss of electronic white noise.

   Doc mused for a second.

   "Poor bastards," he muttered.  "They saw.  They came.  They were
conquered."

   For a while Doc and Bainter sat in the smoldering ruins of the security
offices.  They passed Doc's hipflask of Sonic Screwdriver back and forth,
taking large swigs to stave off the depression.

   "This is a 3-B situation on the Harrison scale of trouble if ever there
was one," Doc said.

   "3-B?"

   "Bowbed beyond belief."

   After another hearty swig, Doc looked through the haze of fire-retardant
mist into the corner.  A cunning look entered his bloodshot eyes.

   "We can still save those who were merely captured by the Dildeks," he
said.

   "How?"

   "Captives are brought to the Dildek stronghold where they are
incorporated into new Dildek machines to become power-sources.  If we act
quickly, we could halt the process and save them."

   The hipflask made several more rounds between the pair.  Suddenly Doc's
eyes gleamed with something other than alcoholic intoxication.  He turned
his nova-powered smile towards Bainter.

   "Of course!  That's it!  How could I have forgotten?"

   The train of logic was lost on Bainter.  He tried to hide his confusion
with another swig of Sonic Screwdriver.

   "Through some programming flaw, whenever the Dildeks' achieve a swift,
decisive victory, they always neglect to guard their base of operations,"
Doc explained.

   "That sounds like a major security flaw," Bainter said as he scratched
his chin.  "Why don't they patch it?"

   "Something programmers call the Gates Conundrum.  That's where very
successful software which has glaringly obvious bugs is seldom fixed
because the software is so popular that it couldn't possibly contain any
bugs that stupid."

   Bainter grunted, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with Doc.

   "Here is my plan.  At the center of each Dildek soldier is a biological
slave whose sexual energy it is leaching off of.  If we can inundate the
air with enough pheromones, those little slave buggers will squirt such
vigorous loads they'll go into post orgasmic stress disorder.  The Dildeks
will shut down.  And, if we're lucky to get the Supreme-Client Dildek, the
others will be at a loss for further orders."

   Bainter was still pondering the previous point.

   "Why didn't you come up with this plan before?" Bainter asked.  "It
would have avoided the Frigadier and all the other needless casualties."

   "When you've been on the stuff I've been on, you're lucky to have any
coherent thoughts what-so-ever," Doc said.  "But the real question is,
Sergeant Bainter, do you have any such gaseous pheromone substances on this
ship?"

   Bainter thought for a second.  "As a matter of fact, yes we do."

   "Why am I not surprised?" Doc said.

   "We have some experimental stuff in the hold.  It's for crowd control
and mass riots.  The Frigadier was itching to try it out."

   Bainter went to the Frigadier's office and withdrew an electronic key
which the Frigadier had hidden in a hardbound book entitled "The Art Of War
and Dating."

   It took a while for the pair to sneak their way through the smoky
hallways, over floors slippery with all manner of precious bodily fluids,
while breathing the misty fire-retardent haze in the flickering lights. 
They avoided Dildeks as well as the fear crazed mobs running around in the
hallways.  They found an emergency security force storage bay one deck
below.

   They opened the locked door and saw three blue plastic chemical drums.
Each was labeled with a black humanoid skull and crossbones.  An eerily
plain second label read "Love Potion #10".

   "Of course, the question arises of just how you happen to have a batch
of this possibly illegal concoction in your arsenal," Doc said.

   "Let's just say that the Frigadier despises the Sex Marines.  So anytime
they get a new weapon, he tries to acquire it too."

   Bainter started checking the bay for atomizers, shifting through the
myriad weapons, stun guns, shock sticks, and percussion grenades.

   "Sex Marines?" Doc asked.

   "That's a different story," Bainter said.  "They were a force created by
General Donny Rumpfelt in the year 2238.  They use small numbers, lightning
insertions, and quick withdrawals to totally fuck up an enemy's plans."

   "Kinky," Doc said, making a mental note to check that force out.

   As Bainter continued poking around, Doc started reading the labels on
some of the boxes.

   "MCFs?"

   "Mongolian Cluster Fuck bombs," Bainter said proudly.

   "Aren't they banned by the Jizzeata Convention?"

   "Possibly?  I don't know."

   "Anti-inflammatory rounds?"

   "For repression fire."

   "Jet propelled dildoes?  Hhmmm, a man could have a pretty good time in
Vegas with an arsenal like this."

   Bainter smiled as he withdrew two tanks attached to a harness which
could be worn on a human's back.

   "Here are the little buggers.  Now, how are we going to sneak in?"
Bainter asked.

   "As I said before whenever the Dildeks achieve a swift climax to their
plans, they always neglect to guard their base of operations.  I propose to
walk in via the front door.  You however will crawl through the ventilation
shaft and Jeffries Tubes to contaminate their air with those canisters."

   "Brilliant!" Bainter said.

   The pair left the storage room, and the protective air masks, behind.



   Chapter 13

   Gotti was delighted at the tingle the green light gave his central
nervous system.  He was deeply disturbed however at the lack of response
displayed by his genitalia.  It was as flaccid as before his collaboration
with the Dildeks.

   He fiddled with the Dildek machine, trying to see what made it tick.

   "I think it's busted," he groused.

   "DILDEK DEVICE IS NOT BROKEN!  DILDEK TECHNOLOGY NEVER BREAKS!  DILDEK
TECHNOLOGY IS PERFECT!" the Supreme-client Dildek called out from the
living room where it was watching Byzantium News Network reports about the
invasion.  "IT IS HUMAN WHO IS BROKEN!"

   "He's got that right," the still bound Alexis muttered.

   "Hey fuck you and the ship you rode in on!" Gotti called out to the
Dildeks.  He turned to Alexis.  "And as for you, fuck you too, missy.  If
you keep talking to me that way, you're gonna get a busted lip."

   "Ooohhh, tough guy threatening the tied-up helpless girl."

   "There was a time I'd fuck a bitch like you upside down and right side
up, then inside out.  And you'd crawl back begging for more."

   Alexis made an obvious glance towards the trillionairre's unresponsive
crotch.

   "You know, if you can't get it up, the least you could do is eat me
out," Alexis said.

   Gotti growled and turned on the device again.

   ****

   "Well, Dennis, it looks like saving Byzantium III is up to us." Doc's
smile, for once, did not look so energetic.

   Bainter nodded glumly.

   The two stood in a sub-hallway on the fabled opulent Level A, several
meters from the primary hallway.  The flooring gleamed, and the walkways
were much neater and better kept than Level Q, Doc noted.  It seemed as
though the hallway were untroubled by the Dildek takeover of the ship and
unsullied by the fighting.

   Bainter had pried open the grating of an air duct and was preparing to
enter the dark hatchway.  He still toted the two tanks of pheromones.

   "Before we embark, let us partake of a sacramental swig of sonic
screwdriver.  I prescribe five double shots to counter the effects of mind
numbing terror," Doc said.

   He handed the hipflask to Bainter, who nearly spilt a little on his chin
due to his trembling fingers.

   Doc took the shiny flask back and knocked a deep chug himself.

   ****

   J.  Paul Gotti looked at the ventilation shaft above him.

   "I think some little rat-humping babbo's climbing down," he said.

   That was when a slight, tangy odor filled the air.  Gotti sneezed as he
got a strong whiff of the pheromone.  It penetrated through years of
atrophied neurons and reached the deepest animal core of his brain.

   Feeling a strange discomfort in his groin, Gotti looked down.  Shock and
delight spread across his face as he viewed the pink tube of flesh which
quivered like a new borne babe through the folds of his robe.

   "I've got wood," he said marveling at the thought.  "I've got wood!"

   Suddenly overcome by the miracle as well as the lack of blood to his
upper brain, Gotti ran through the halls of his apartment shouting, "I'VE
GOT WOOD!!!"

   He continued running, enjoying the way his newly hardened member bobbed
about in the air.  He laughed like a child, palming it, slapping it, and in
general having a great time.  He ran up one hallway, through the living
room past the Dildeks watching the video monitor tuned to BNN news and
returned to the kitchen.

   By the time he made a second circuit of his suite he was clutching his
chest.  "Oh fuck a duck, I'm having a heart attack."

   Gasping for breath, he fell to the carpet, rolled over and expired.



   Chapter 14

   As Doc suspected, the front door of Gotti's apartment was unlocked.

   "Must be typical Micro-Hardon programming," Doc said.

   The apartment's insides were a respite from the chaos in the outer
halls. No fire retardant haze, no stench of electrical fire smoke.  There
as a slight tang of pussy and spunk.  He could barely smell the
aphrodisiac.

   There were also two large Dildek warrior machines watching an
entertainment video set.

   "Hello boys, how's it hanging?"

   "IT IS THE DOCTOR!  HOW DID YOU FIND OUR SECRET HEADQUARTERS?" the
Supreme-client Dildek roared.

   "Feng shui."

   "YOUR IMPOTENT SELF DEFENSE ARTISTRY WILL NOT SAVE YOU!  EXTERMINATE!"

   "IS THAT EXTERMINATE OR EX-SPERMINATE?  UNIT IS CONFUSED WITH RUSH OF
POWER," said Six-Of-Nine.

   "EXTERMINATE!  EXXX-TERMINAAAAATE!"

   Red rays flashed in the darkened apartment, but somehow not as powerful
as Doc remembered them.  He still took the opportunity to hide behind a
couch where he found the body of a skinny little old man.

   "LEADER!  WE ARE OVERWHELMED WITH POWER!  EMERGENCY CIRCUIT BREAKERS
CUTTING IN!"

   Doc peered over the back of the couch, his smile aggravatingly self
satisfied.

   "It's all that bad karma catching up with you," he said.

   The second unit was hovering wildly, then lost its power of flight,
smashing to the floor like a brick.  The Supreme-Client Dildek aimed at Doc
and fired.  It's red ray sputtered through the air, vaporizing nothing but
ambient moisture.

   "I believe the Supreme-client Dildek is firing blanks," Doc taunted.

   "SUPREME-CLIENT DILDEK NEVER FIRES BLANKS!  SUPREME-CLIENT DILDEK IS THE
MOST POTENT FORCE IN THE UNIVERSE!  EX-SPERMINATE! 
EX-SPERMMmmminnnaaaa..."

   The Supreme-client Dildek's voice trailed off and its minuscule arms
flopped to its sides, dangling impotently.  It too fell to the floor with a
crash that Doc felt through his knees.

   Doc got up and dusted his Bermuda shorts off.  It was then he noted a
very prominent bulge in his trousers.

   "It's over Dennis, you can come out now," he said.

   The grating in the roof fell to the floor and the sergeant lowered
himself through the opening with cat-like grace.  He looked around, trying
to disregard the sturdy bulge in his own uniform.

   "So this is the lair.  And how the other half lives."

   "Are you two finished dicking around in there?" Alexis called out from
the kitchen.

   The two women had regained consciousness, but were still tied atop the
kitchen table, naked.  The men grinned.

   "Hey!  Aren't you going to untie us?" Bambi asked.

   Doc and Bainter looked at one another, then at the tied up ladies.

   "No," both said as they unbuckled their pants, withdrew their pricks and
slid into the two helpless yet moist twats.

   "Oh, that's nice!" Bambi said sarcastically.  After a few minutes of
Bainter's pushing, she repeated "Oh!  That is nice!" in a heartfelt tone as
her emotions flared with her pussy juices.

   Bainter continued boffing her, picking up speed.

   "Tie me up and leave me, will you?" he said, slamming away with
vengeance.

   He withdrew, then gave a quick push to lodge himself firmly yet
uncomfortably up Bambi's anus.  She squeaked in surprise.  Then she glared
at Bainter as she squeezed.

   "Fucker!" she grunted.

   Doc laughed, then looked down at Alexis who was taking his own onslaught
in both pussy and anus.

   Epilogue

   It had taken two weeks to dismantle the broken Dildeks which littered
Byzantium III.  Those sentient beings who were found still alive within the
Dildek chassis were recuperating in the hospital.  Among the survivors was
the Frigadier, who continually mumbled about gerbils and hippie spies.

   The chain of command had fallen to Sergeant Bainter, who was busy
leading the investigation of the incident, as well as the mop-up operation.

   Alexis kept herself busy by cleaning up the Porno Palace.  Somehow the
insurance agency had cleared her claim early, so she had some capital to
work with.  She had managed to get some replenishment shipments, due in
next week.

   Right now she was mopping the floor of her shop.  She had already
recycled any goods not harmed during the smashing of the Palace and the
ensuing invasion of the station.  She was hoping to have a big blowout
sale.

   Bambi helped Alexis by sorting the remaining videos for the upcoming
sale at the grand re-opening.  While she sorted she looked over at her
friend.  She and Bainter were having a relationship, but she wondered how
Alexis's love life was faring.

   Finally she could stand it no longer.

   "So what is up with you and Doc?" Bambi asked.

   Alexis, who had been humming a little, looked at her friend.  "You can
ask him yourself.  He's playing with his JOINT."

   "What's he doing in there?"

   Alexis's brow crinkled.  "He said he's experimenting with a concoction
of drugs he learned about at the hospital."

   "Excuse me, would one of you happen to be Miss Alexis?"

   Bambi and Alexis turned to find a man addressing them in the open
doorway of the Porno Palace.  He was tall and stern-faced, wearing a suit
with creases so sharp they could slice steel.  His briefcase alone, new and
shiny and made from sort of skin from a creature that must be extinct,
looked like it was worth twice the value of Alexis's stock.  Alexis
wondered how he had managed to walk through the hallway in this level
without getting mugged.

   He walked to Alexis, looking her in the eyes.

   "Ms.  Alexis?" he began in a voice soft and silky.  "I understand from
the Frigadier that you recently came into contact with a being known as the
Doctor, who also refers to himself as Doc?"

   "Maybe," Alexis hedged.

   Undaunted, the man opened his briefcase, took out a flat piece of black
plastic and inserted a crystal into one side.  Words appeared on the now
white screen.

   "I'm a lawyer representing Doc's last four traveling companions," he
said, thrusting the read-screen at Alexis.  At the top of the screen were
the words "Victor, Hankie, Morgan and Ranman class action vs.  Doc, Re:
Palimony."

   Alexis pursed her lips.  "I haven't seen him."

   "You seem like a smart girl, so I'll tell you the truth.  I'm a process
server from the transuniversal lawfirm Dewey, Rookem, Howe and Grxylfx. 
The good doctor is being sued by his traveling companions numbers two,
three, four and nine."

   Alexis did some math in her head.  "Nine?  There were others?"

   "Oh yes.  Six won't sue, seven is rumored to have put a contract out on
his life, and eight wants to marry him.  Oh yeah, number one wants to cut
off his balls and have them mounted on her wall."

   "He certainly gets around," Alexis said.

   "Boy does he," the man said.  "I think Doc has pheromones which makes
girls become impassioned in their panties."

   "Impassioned in their panties?"

   "Yup," the man smirked.  "He's a real operator all right, a regular
Doctor Screw.  Well, I've got to run, but if you see the Doc, I'd
appreciate it if you didn't give him any more help or encouragement.  It's
been a real bitch serving him."

   He was edging towards the door when Evania Strump walked through.  The
insurance claims adjuster was red-faced and extremely angry.  There was an
intent in her eyes that Alexis did not care to contemplate.

   "All right," Evania said.  "Where is that louse?"

   "I don't know what you mean," Alexis said.

   "That asshole Doc said he had been fixed.  But when I ran my home
pregnancy kit I get a positive.  Then I tried to call Doc on his phone, but
it's been disconnected.  So I want to know where he is."

   "I haven't seen him," Alexis said, thinking "in the last ten minutes" to
keep her conscience clear.

   It was at this point that an "Oh shit" floated over the room.  Doc's
head had popped out from behind the curtain of the antique porno booth/time
traveling ship.  He looked at Evania and the process server, his
characteristic smile wiped completely and utterly from his face.  He looked
over to Alexis.  With a quick, goofy smile, he waved good-bye.

   The process server was just starting to run towards the booth when a
terrible grinding noise, like two titanic lizards locked in a spirited rut,
filled the air.  The booth faded from view.

   "God damn it!" the process server spat out.

   "That bastard!" Evania said.

   The two looked at one another.

   "I don't suppose you'd care to join in this palimony lawsuit?" the
process server asked.

   "Let's talk over lunch," Evania said with a promising smile.  She and
the process server walked out into the hallway, arm in arm.

   Once the door was closed, Bambi could only look at Alexis and say,
"Well, that bites."

   "Hey, we just had a one nighter," Alexis said.  "Nothing more."

   "Still..." Bambi started

   "Somehow, I think Doc will be back."
   The End