Sick Bay - O'Donnell Jupiter

[LeaT]

Who: Tiffany Moltke
Relevant: @MsBloom as Tag
Time: June 26nd 2046, early afternoon.

Tiffany had already been in the O'Donnell Jupiter visiting her comatose husband whom she just discovered the day before had survived the Resolute disaster. She sat next to the bed, nearly as comatose as Michael. She had thought him gone and felt life had no more meaning, losing herself into a bottle. When she drank all that she had, which wasn't much, she turned to others. Tears streamed from her eyes as she thought of what she had done to purchase that numbness and how she had betrayed her husband who had been so desperately trying to rejoin her. But he had been severely injured in the crash landing and now was so close but felt even farther away from her.

They had married on the Resolute and had decided to put off having children until they arrived at their new home. Having not had children together, she was one of the few women that had been approved to conceive with her husband. 'Isn't it ironic?' she said to herself then remembered an old song with that very refrain which she hummed to herself as she held Michael's hand that other than some warmth seemed completely lifeless and limp.

She had vowed to quit drinking but still felt hungover. She hadn't been lost in the bottle so long that she had DTs or anything, but she felt like shit. If anything she was more confused and lost than she was without Michael. She would talk with Dr. Smith and discuss options, their IVF technology hadn't been on the individual Jupiters that had survived. She probably needed his psychological care more than his family planning help unfortunately. Her mother swore by him, she wasn't sure that was the best endorsement at the moment, but it wasn't like she had a lot of alternatives.

 

[MsBloom]

Who: Tag
Relevant: @LeaT (Tiffany)
Time: June 26nd 2046, early afternoon.

Being something of a Jack of All Trades Tag had been working hard together with Joan designing and building more separate shelters over the last couple of weeks but he had also found time to spend with Penny, letting her further explore her sexuality with him without pushing her into anything she didn't want. The two had also talked at length about what the breeding protocol might mean for them personally. He ha admitted to his pretend little-sister that even under the circumstances he wasn't too keen on becoming a father but kept quiet about how he avoided it with Megan by not having reproductive sex with her. If anything there was a greater risk that he had fathered a child by her daughter Tiffany. She was the only woman in the colony, other than Penny, whose vagina he had unloaded his semen into. Who knew they might both be pregnant by him already. Megan however, he really had no interest in impregnating her. He quite enjoyed her desperate submission, how she accepted all the degrading things he did to her. The O'Donnell matriarch would never truly admit it to herself but she was a whore and he treated her as such, a fuck toy, just as he had treated Tiffany every time she had come to him for a mouthful or two of what little whisky he had left.

This was also why he treated Penny differently. She was nothing like them. She was anything but a whore, not even a slut, even if perhaps she had been a bit desperate to lose her virginity the night of the infamous volleyball game and the following seven minutes in heaven. Perhaps desperate wasn't really the word for it, eager more like it, overly eager. If anything she had been a victim of that eagerness when Maxwell had taken advantage of her. That was why he treated her with respect and affection rather than just using her like a disposable cum rag, the way he did Megan and Tiffany. The latter not really having been available to him since they rescued her in-laws and her comatose husband.

"I wouldn't bet on him ever waking up," he said, having entered the O'Donnell's sick bay where Tiffany was hovering over her husband, seemingly deep in thought.
In his left hand he had the last half bottle of whisky, of any sort of alcohol on this new world. He had secretly been working on a stil and trying to find a crop suitable for making alcohol but the experiments so far had been anything but satisfying.
"You will probably have a better chance at me getting you pregnant."
He wiggled the bottle in front of her the way one might wiggle a piece of meat in front of a dog.
"How badly do you want this ... It is literally the last ounces of booze you'll see in a long time."

 

[LeaT]

Who: Tiffany Moltke
Relevant: @MsBloom as Tag
Time: June 26nd 2046, early afternoon.

Tag's voice startled her, she hadn't expected a visitor, certainly not Tag. His words made it clear he enjoyed cruelty for cruelty sake, or at least that was her thought at hearing them. "Fuck off" She said, part of her hoping he would take the hint, but part of her wanted him to stay. She feared he was right, she sincerely wanted him back, but this on top of everything else she had been through felt like more than she could barely. Tiffany never thought she had her mother's strength, she wasn't aware of just how her own sainted mother was struggling, especially with this very same asshole.

Her head throbbed and her eyes went to the bottle before he even had a chance to taunt her with it. She doubted he missed her look but she didn't want to give him the satisfaction. "I wouldn't count on it." She said reflexively, though part of her feared he might already be right, though it was probably just her paranoia talking. She was fertile, there was a chance, a fairly good chance, but it wasn't that likely.

She frowned at the bottle but her eyes followed it like a dog's followed an offered treat. "What and take away your one redeeming characteristic?" She was in a foul mood, but he had her attention, she hadn't even looked at her husband since they started talking. She did hold his hand, as if it anchored her to what she should do as opposed to what she felt like she wanted to do, and probably would do. Truth be told, the alcohol wasn't that appealing to her, she had binged but wasn't an alcoholic. She had wanted to drown her misery but now she had Michael back but he was still so far away. She was a newlywed with no sex life, she had a husband who didn't even know she was there, or so she hoped he didn't. And to top it all off, she was expected to have a baby, someone's baby. It was the worst of all worlds as far as she was concerned. But then there was Tag.

 

[MsBloom]

Who: Tag
Relevant: @LeaT (Tiffany)
Time: June 26nd 2046, early afternoon.

Tag just smiled as she told him to fuck off. He heard the hesitation in her voice, the doubt, the tremble of involuntary excitement. It was much like her mother's, that rejection they both seemed to need to justify wanting him to treat them like whores and he certainly enjoyed the game they were playing. If they needed the semblance of being forced, blackmailed or coerced then he could certainly play that game.

"Oh don't worry. I'm making more. Can't have people dealing with this shit without alcohol to take the edges off after a long day of hard work and frustration."
He jiggled the bottle again, seeing how her eyes followed it. He then opened it and took a mouthful, leaving little more than a few drops at the bottom.
"So what's it going to be then? You want to whore yourself here, in front of your poor husband, or take this party to the shag shack?"
He knew just how provoked she would of course be by the suggestion of having sex with him in front of her husband, even if he was in a coma and wouldn't know what was happening. He could have bent her over her husband's chest and pounded her to oblivion and he still wouldn't ever know unless someone told him.
"Maybe just a blowjob, while you hold your husband's hand," he suggested and laughed but as he did his hand had gone to his crotch grabbing the obvious bulge there.

 

[LeaT]

Who: Tiffany Moltke
Relevant: @MsBloom as Tag
Time: June 26nd 2046, early afternoon.

"Well don't bother on my account." Her words said though her eyes lingered on the near empty bottle with a desperation that would likely connect mother and daughter in Tag's observation.

'Hard work and frustration' he had said and despite her loathing of him laughed a little, a small amount of tension released in her. He drank from the bottle then made his ultimatum, a forced choice, was he learning from her mother. Whore herself out here or somewhere else. He assumed she was going to be his whore and despite every notion in her brain screaming to reject him, she knew she would do it.

"Why are you such an asshole?" She said, pulling the bottle from his hand and finishing it, keeping her head tilted back so every last drop could find her throat. Finally she straightened up and pushed the empty bottle back at him. "The shag shack, but give me an hour." She said, dismissing him and turning back to her husband.

---

Once Tag had left she climbed onto the bed next to Michael, snuggling up to him as if he were merely sleeping. One hand toyed with his hair as the other worked its way down his chest, following the counters of his body. Michael lacked the sculpted muscles of a laborer, though he also lacked the ego and meanness, she told herself. As her hand idly went lower, as she dreamed of better days in the past, she was surprised to find him hard. Hard as a rock.

She leaned up on one arm and looked at his face, hoping perhaps that he had suddenly come out of his coma, but he was as comatose as before. "Fuck." She simply said and collapsed back down next to him. Her left hand caressed his erection as her right began to undo her belt. She soon slipped her right hand into her panties and began to finger herself. She pulled the hand out and licked her fingers, then worked her way into her inner folds. She was breathing heavily, the only noise in the quiet room as her fingers worked her pussy and Michael's hard cock. Hips rocking she began to moan, feeling her arousal build, she was clearly heading for a self induced climax.

Before her peak she stopped, laying there panting she had to forced her fingers from digging back into her now wet cunt. She took a deep breath then used both hands to push her pants and panties down and wriggle her legs free. She was on her husband in a moment, his hospital style gown pulled up and she impaled herself on his cock. One hand up her shirt, pushing her still clasped bra up and free in a tit which she squeezed like she wished Michael would do. She was riding him like a rodeo cowgirl, the bed springs creaking as she bounced. "Come on baby, give it to me." She whispered hoarsely at him as she road.

 

[MsBloom]

To be continued here:

Shag Shack #1

Who: Tag When: June 22nd 2046, early afternoon. Relevant: @LeaT (Megan) The punch came as a total surprise. He had not thought she had it in her to react violently but when her hands closed around his throat he smiled. It was clear that he had awakened something inside her, something primal, a...

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