Chapter 2

The Admiral, when she finally got to meet him, was something of an emotional let-down, after meeting the formidable force of nature that was the Commander. He didn’t look his age, which had to be in his seventies, but the quiet man before her in the wheelchair matched every single other descriptive detail of ‘The Admiral’ that she’d read in the books. He might only look to be in his 40’s but his eyes appeared to be as if made out of steel, complete with an unearthly glowing red light coming from the center, where the pupils would be on an earthly human. He was the Admiral, she quickly decided, the ultimate stern but yet kindly authority figure for every Fleet Girl, included the newest Initiate.

Melinda dropped to her knees, back in the exposed Inspection pose, presenting herself in proper submission to her new Master, who nodded with slight approval.

“Initiate Melinda begs the Commander’s permission to suck the Admiral’s penis,” she pleaded, and her Mistress gave her approval. From her knees, she frantically sucked on the Admirals splendid cock and discovered to her joy, the later (more explicit) books of the series had not exaggerated his size of his manhood or his virility, or even the described taste of his ejaculate, which had something of a honey-like taste in her mouth. When the Admiral spewed his load into her mouth, she held it there as she moved back into the Inspection position and waited, until her Mistress gave her permission to swallow his semen.

“As the planets are flung across the vastness of space, so shall your seed flow and blossom within my soul, like seeds of hope and life across the vastness of space!” She recited, completing the final part of the recorded ritual, as her Mistress nodded with satisfaction. Otherwise, she was forbidden from speaking within the Admiral’s hearing, without explicit prior approval. There were many Rules, Codes and Rituals for Fleet Girls, and if they were recorded anywhere in the book series, Melinda had memorized them!

“Here for your approval, Sir,” the Commander simply stated in a matter-of-fact tone, “is the dumb twat that’s been on the front porch all today and this evening. I did my best to discourage her, but never-the-less, here she remains. She’s a stubborn and persistent cunt, I’ll give her that much. Not the finest material for the Fleet that we’ve ever had ... but with the place and time being different now, along with the present urgent needs of the service, I now present her ... to see if she is at least minimal suitable for your plans, and the projected Fleet campaign for the future.

“Nominally adequate,” he decided, but not without some obvious concerns. The Initiate has been instructed as to her likely duties? It is a very rare girl these days that manages to come to us, requesting Fleet service.”

“Partially,” the Commander said, “but she has repeatedly stated and demonstrated a complete willingness to perform any and every Fleet Girl activity that might be assigned to her, no matter how insignificant.”

“Is this so, young woman? Speak!” He ordered her, his cybernetic eyes glowing at her even more intently upon her.

“Eagerly so, Lord Admiral,” Melinda replied, earnestly and with utter honesty and submissiveness, “I’m begging to serve the Fleet ... in any way at all that the Fleet will have me.”

“Rather condemned then, by her own words, My Lord!” The Commander laughed.

“Your offer to serve us ... in any manner of our choosing, is then accepted. The Commander will take you to your new duty station and explain, if you can fully comprehend it, your forthcoming responsibilities. Duty Calls, Fleet Girl!” He said, giving her a firm armed service salute.

The Commander then led Melinda out of the Admiral’s study and towards a set of stairs leading down to the basement. It was hard to walk it down on extreme tip toes, but the obedient young woman managed it. When the basement lights were turned on, the area surrounding her seemed huge, more like a cave than a simple basement, all chock full of electrical equipment and various chunks of hardware, nothing of which appeared familiar to her.

“This is where, very shortly, you will be performing your new duties. True, they will be physically limiting as your flesh and spirit will then move in directions that will appear at first to be strange to you, but in time will become as vast and encompassing as if the entirety of the universe could be made visible all at once to you in but a single picture. You are about to become a Ship Girl ... do you understand what that means? Completely? I agree, this is a considerable honor for any Fleet Girl to attain, especially for a young women who is now only barely now sworn to us. Can you willingly step into this Ship Girl Dock and become... everything that this assignment entails?”

A Ship Girl? Those were the elite of the Fleet Girls, women who not only served as very specific parts of a ship’s crew and served its general needs, but BECAME the very ship itself, either small corvettes, or cruisers, or even great dreadnought battleships! She’d be a critical and essential part of the Fleet and Mistress over every Fleet Girl serving upon her, sharing the highest shipborne authority with the Commander herself, who would be the Captain of her ship, giving her advice and guidance. Only an Admiral, if he was onboard, would outrank her.

Beside her now she saw the Dock, a seat designed to hold the Ship Girl and contain and sustain her for the rest of her life ... which could be eons in length, accord to the novels. If, or when, she sat into that chair ... and mounted herself upon the two large penis-shaped attachments it held at the seat, bio-symbionts would enter into her flesh, and transform her over time into the organic-mechanical heart and brain of the Ship, as it grew and expanded out around her, become a new bio-technological space ship, both living and machine, ready to join the Fleet.

At the sight of the Dock ... and all that its function entailed, made Melinda faint and caused her heart to flutter ... with fear and panic, and also with pangs of exhilaration!

“I can become... will become a Ship Girl?” She gasped, breaking position to grasp and kiss her Mistresses polished leather boots in a frenzy of gratitude. “You can’t know, believe or understand that I’ve dreamed of this opportunity since I was girl, barely able to masturbate or to do it as quickly as I wanted to, while I read those chapters in the books about some other girl lucky enough to submit to this ... giving up everything that is or was herself to serve the Fleet. It’s the ultimate form of submission ... to surrender everything that is You for the service of others, forever, as an integral part of the Fleet.”

“It is ... and many experienced Fleet Girls with long years of devoted service often reject this last final reward – that ultimate final act of utter Submission and Obedience to the Fleet. It’s suitable for only extremely rare sorts of women; those with an utterly compliant and obedient disposition, true ... but also a woman young enough to enjoy everything about life ... and experienced enough to be able to reject that life, without further regrets ... and be capable of future growth in new and different ways instead.”

“I can’t think of a time since I started to read about the fleet that I wouldn’t have sacrificed everything just for that chance ... but I’m more than a bit odd, a bit mental maybe even, now that I’m mostly all grown up. Those Fleet books were very special and important to me ... and the Fleet Girls in the stories were my closest friends really, in just about every meaningful way. I wasn’t pretty enough to attract a boyfriend and I was too shy to let the lesbian girls know that I’d be interested, in that way, either in high school or even in college.”

“So, now you were an intern with a publishing company, Garratt, the one’s that published our books years ago. Lucky for you then, finding a way to contact us. What was your college degree in?”

“English with a journalism minor. I tend to be a bit anal retentive about detail related things, like copyediting. Honestly, I’m almost obsessive compulsive about editing details, so I think I would have liked the job.”

“English degree, then. Good, your loss will not impact your earth society in the least. No one is ever going to miss you! Now, instead you will have the stars and vastness of deep space, instead of the pages of old, now forgotten books.”

“I needed those books, and loved every page that I turned ... now please tell me that most of what you and the Admiral wrote in them was true?”

“Truth in fiction is contradictory by their very nature, as you should have learned in literature classes,” the Commander laughed, gently running her gloved fingers through the younger girl’s hair affectionately, “but actually I think we really tried to capture the reality and essence of the Fleet, and of at least some of the women who served it. The earlier books essentially were a fairly factual history of our first years together, the Admiral and myself, and how we began the earlier stages of our rebellion against the Empress. All of these parts were quite true. In some of the later books, we had to fabricate some characters and events, because we’d quite run out of actual history, now that the Admiral and I had been grounded, exiled here on earth for nearly fifty years now. We wanted to tell our stories, of our victories and defeats, to earn money to survive here, hidden and unseen ... and to inspire the right sorts of young women to perhaps try to seek us out.”

“And that’s why now you need a Ship Girl, like me ... to grow a new spaceship from, to escape from this planet and rebuild the Fleet, your Fleet ... not the Empresses one.”

“Yes, and that’s why, once we were stranded here for good it seemed, that it was so import to tell our story ... the good heroic parts of dangers and loyalties, but not quite the last part at the end and how we had actually failed. That tale was too depressing for us to tell. The rest was all true or functionally so, in the books, like the political bits ... the differences between ourselves and the Empress, and how the Imperial matriarchy or Gynocracy worked, and why it doesn’t work so well now. As the books proclaim, the race of humans has survived in space for millennia, but now consists only of women, all cloned from biovats. Men do exist, but as exceptionally rare bio-mutational errors during the vat reproduction process. Exceptionally rare, perhaps less than even a one in a million chance. When these variants are detected, the Imperial civil service is extremely efficient at finding and rooting them out, eliminating them – as men have no place in their ancient and heavily stratified society. Our worlds and Fleets in rebellion, all believe otherwise, that men should be gradually restored to their ancient biological duties and Fleet Girls should be conceived more naturally in this manner, instead by cloning vats. This is why our few Admirals are of such importance, that they are the only ones that can breed the Fleet Girls for the ships, impregnating them in vast seedbeds in greater numbers than even the vats could ever supply them. In the last battles before our crash and exile here, our last Seedbeds had been discovered and exterminated, leaving our Admiral now as perhaps the last hope. This is what our rebellion hopes to finally achieve, once we are returned to space and our Fleet!”

“But what of all of the men here on Earth?” Melinda wondered.

“This remote part of the galaxy is very distant from both the whims of the Empress or the colonies of our worlds in revolt, of which there are many. Think of your wing of this spiral arm as something of a protected nature reserve, where our people have only rarely even scouted these worlds and have never colonized them. We got here entirely by accident, when the Admiral and I had to flee here for safety, when our plans were prematurely discovered and a traitor told the Empress where we could be found and eliminated. We had a little advance warning though of our betrayal, so we had just time to scatter most of our Fleet to safety, while we retreated from a far superior force deep into this part of space, until we were too heavily damaged to fight any further and our Ship made a blind desperate jump. Damaged and with our Ship dying, we found that we were thousands of light-years away from any friendly space and we had no other choice than to crash land here on this very mountain. All around you now you can see bits and pieces of our old ship, every scrap larger than a dime of her picked up and saved, so that she could be rebuilt someday. Her name was Katya and she died keeping the Admiral and myself safe, even as she was shattered from the ground impact. The rest of the crew perished, but they will never be forgotten by us either.”

“So you had perhaps enough surviving parts to rebuild a Ship’s Dock, but you needed a young woman that was able to survive the transition ... so that’s the other reason you wrote the Fleet Girls series, to try and attract a woman like me who might wish to make that transition!”

“Very true,” the Commander admitted, “as I told you earlier, it takes a very special sort of girl to even attempt the transition to becoming a Ship Girl. The desire to accept the change must be completely voluntary – do you think we could have just captured and forced a strange woman into the Dock? Absolutely not – the transition would never have been successful in the first place and secondly, that Ship Girl would never have felt any love for us ... or the Fleet Girls who would crew her. A forced Ship Girl always becomes completely insane and useless to any Fleet, even the Empress’s. That was one of the main messages in our books that love and duty are forever intertwined together ... the Admiral, the Ship Girl, myself the ship’s Commander, and all of the crew – all of us working together in harmony!”

“I’m starting to become a bit afraid,” Melinda admitted, “but I’m still willing to make the transition, to become a Ship Girl for you. This really was something that I had only fantasized about becoming, one of my most perverted daydreams. Will I at least be able to feel, to have true emotional connections, afterwards?”

“You want to know if you’ll still have feelings of love, when the conversion to a Ship Girl is complete. Of course! If anything, you will feel deeper and more personally connected than you ever felt before, when you were only flesh. Didn’t I just tell you that entire crews, from the Ship Girl downwards to the newest Fleet Girl, exist purely for these inter-bound connections of love we all feel for each other? If a girl is hurt, anywhere onboard, you will feel it. If Fleet Girls are making love together in their quarters, you will feel it and will be together with them. If a girl is pleasuring me or the Admiral, it will be as you were there together with us also. Your question, will you FEEL ... the answer is yes, and perhaps you may even feel too much, being always together with us but yet separate and apart. This is why I said that being a Ship Girl is hard, too difficult to accept for most women. The ideal host must be like you, submissive, sensitive and caring ... but yet with a distinct ability to walk a separate path through life. You will still be alone ... but always be together with those who serve and love you!”

“That’s all I could hope for then, “Melinda said with a contented sigh. “I think I want to get started making the transition soon, while my nerves are steady, before I fall all to pieces worrying about things I can’t fully understand.”

“Soon, my dear girl, but first as my last and final duty as your training Mistress, I would enjoy a brief taste of your flesh and feel it pressed, all-too briefly, against mine. Would you kiss your Mistress now a final time before we say goodbye?”

Melinda shivered as she rose up from the floor, naked and eager to bring pleasure to the Commander. They kissed, softly at first, but soon with harder emotional need. She had enjoyed a few lesbian encounters with other young women while in college but she had never had the pleasure of a consistent girl friend to regularly make love with. She had mostly been too shy to be the pursuer and her few romantic encounters had been by happenstance. Tonight, she was in the arms of a mature woman who had given and taken love from hundreds, if not thousands of women and knew all of the wiles of the feminine lovemaking arts. She became clay, molded to the fires of her new lover, and followed wherever her Mistress lead her, as they kissed and touched very part of the other’s body.

Melinda orgasmed just from the sensations of eating out the Commander’s cunt while feverishly fingering herself off over and over again, in an endless wave of pleasure. When the Commander did the same for her, it was so powerful of a feeling, the tsunami waves of constant orgasmic pleasure, that she felt quite weak and helpless getting back to her feet, once the lovemaking was over with.