Prisoner of the Tookies

by The Technician

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© Copyright 2020 - The Technician - Used by permission

Storycodes: F/f; M/f; bond; chain; oral; sex; mast; scifi; reluct; nc; X

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Tookees capture Mousey to use her as a sexual power trigger

The Tookees control massive amounts of power, but they don’t know how it works. They know only that certain special women, captured with their ships in deep space, can be used as triggers to control the power. The spark needed to ignite the power comes during sexual climax. But something goes wrong when the Tookees capture The Marauder. Mousey and her seven fellow captives don’t trigger the power the Tookees need. So they try again, and again, and again.

This is part one of a three-part geek erotica story. If you’re not a geek, you can skim past the techno-nerd stuff and just enjoy the sex. If you’re not interested in the sex, what are you doing reading stories on this site anyway?

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WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life.

All characters involved in sexual activity in this story are over the age of 18. If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century.

Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2020 by The Technician ([email protected] ).

Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden.

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Part One - Mouse Trap 

Mousey LaBlaunche closed her eyes and tried to remember how she had ended up here– here being naked in a room full of rather dirty and foul-smelling men. One of those men was lying on his back with his knees bent over the end of a strangely-shaped long stone table while Mousey squatted over him and bounced up and down on his prick. As she bounced others, gathered around the table, clapped in time to her thrusts. In the darkness around her she could hear additional men shouting and other women screaming.

She could remember, as if in a dream, that it had taken three men to subdue her and an additional three to strip off her uniform and put her on top of the naked man. After that, four very strong men took over. Two of them held her in place while two others pushed down on her shoulders to slowly force her onto the prone man’s enormous prick. Mousey was a very small woman, but even if she had been larger, his massive member would have been difficult. She screamed in fear... and then in pain as her cunt was stretched to its limits.

Once she was forced down fully on the massive prick, the men let her rest in place for just a moment and then began moving her slowly up and down. One man, standing behind her and reaching under her arms, was roughly grabbing her tits and lifting her up. Two others, standing alongside her with their hands on her shoulders, would then press down firmly, forcing her back down.

At first it was torture, but she quickly got over the pain and humiliation and her juices began flowing. Or maybe it was the pain and humiliation that caused her juices to flow. Mousey knew that she was different that way. Actually, she was different in many ways, including the fact that she was a sniffer. The scent of Tookee in the room was overwhelming to her.

In any case, between her now relaxing cunt muscles and her flowing lubrication she was starting to feel the warm and almost pleasant sensations of a powerful fucking. Her hands unconsciously went to her breasts and she began to pinch and twist her nipples.

She gasped as she realized in shock that it was now her own hands on her breasts. She looked around as she went up and down, up and down. There were no hands on her shoulders. The men were no longer pushing her down on that massive prick and then pulling her back up. Instead, she was squatting by herself on the table straddling the man’s hips and bouncing herself up and down, up and down, up and down, all the while mauling her breasts and crying out in passion.

Going up, Mousey would rise until she could feel the mushroom tip of the man’s enormous prick almost ready to slip out of her cunt. Then she would slam herself back down, her ass slapping loudly against the muscles of his legs and abdomen.

How did she end up here?

With her eyes closed, she tried to remember. Everything before the men forcing her to the ground and stripping off her uniform was cloudy in her memory. There was a ship. She was part of the crew... or she was just pretending to be part of the crew? The clouds in her memory were growing thicker. But even if they were not, it is difficult to remember much while you are bouncing yourself up and down on the largest prick that has ever been in your cunt. 

Mousey could feel herself getting closer and closer, but she couldn’t quite reach release. She began slamming herself down as hard as she could. It was almost like being spanked on her cunt. The thought of that drove her to speed up her bounces and to slam herself down even harder. She started a long, loud, shrill scream. But just before she totally lost control, he erupted within her– and eruption was the correct term.

It was as if a volcano had erupted between her legs. She screamed even louder as the man’s cum seemed to burn and sear its way into her body. The pain should have doused her passion, but instead it took her over the top into an intense orgasm, perhaps the most intense orgasm she had ever experienced in her entire life. She felt herself shaking wildly and could hear her own voice as she screamed loudly in pain... or passion... or both. Then blackness.

When she awoke, she was on the floor of a cell with seven other female crew members. All were naked, and all had an iron manacle around their right ankle. The chain from the manacle led to the center of the room where it was locked around a large iron ring that was embedded in the rough stone floor.

Mousey very cautiously reached down and began to check for damage to her cunt. Remembering the sensation when she was filled with cum, she was sure that she was badly burned, but there was nothing wrong externally. She reached one finger timidly inside herself to feel if she was burned on the inside, but everything seemed to be alright.

One of the women spoke and suddenly her memories came flooding back. She was assigned as a ship’s cook aboard the Galaxy class Fleetship Marauder, but she was really a field intelligence officer of the Galactic Space Corp. She was also a sniffer– someone who could detect the presence of a Tookee by their unique smell. The Tookees, for the most part, looked just like any other mammalian humanoid in the galaxy except that they were much stronger and much, much more vicious. They also had a strange, dusty smell that only a very few could detect. Mousey was one of those few. And it was part of her job as an intelligence officer to sniff out any Tookee that might be hiding among the regular crew members aboard the Fleetship Marauder. Being a cook in the galley was the perfect cover for that. Everyone eventually came to the galley to eat. 

Besides, she was not the only sniffer aboard the Marauder. They weren’t supposed to know each other, but Mousey knew. They all knew. A sniffer smells slightly different to another sniffer. It isn’t the unpleasant dustiness of a Tookee, but it is similar. It is still a slightly dusty smell, but there is a sweet overscent to it, more like the dusting powder that some of the female crew used to perfume their bodies. Liquid perfume wasn’t banned on the Marauder, but pressurized aerosol containers of any sort were. And in the lower pressure and very dry air of a starship, even tightly-capped volatile liquids soon evaporated away. And they had been at space long enough for all of the perfumes on board to have long since disappeared.

That wasn’t a problem for Mousey. In fact, it was a blessing. She was thankful that after months on patrol, her sensitive nose was no longer assailed by the overwhelming smells of Earth lavender and lilac and Perdonian lulumum. Except for the much less intense dusting powders, all perfumes were long gone. The one exception was the captain. A perk of his rank was evidently a pressure vault in which to store a supply of his obnoxious cologne. There was no way he would ever sneak up on a sniffer– or even most of the ordinary crew– because the scent of leather and female pheromones preceded him wherever he went. Mousey often wondered if the captain knew that only other males– and sniffers– could sense the pheromones which made the cologne so appealing to him. Perhaps he did. From the after-smell of sex that was often upon him and other crew members after one of his latenight “meetings” in his quarters, it was obvious that when it came to sex, the captain was a true omnivore.

Galaxy Command didn’t care about the captain’s sexual preferences... as long as it was consensual. What they cared about was that he was the right person to command the Marauder on this critical mission. The Marauder, and the defensive fleet it carried within its massive decks, had been sent to track down the Tookee’s homeship. It had to be a homeship because there was no known planet that claimed the Tookees. They were not the only race to live aboard– or on– an artificial structure. Such homeships were often the size of large moons or small planets. They showed up as bright blips on any sensor array while they were still light years away. But not the Tookee homeship. That massive homeship was somehow shielded from all sensor arrays. It was invisible, but its path through space was easy to extrapolate from the drifting wrecks which it had left behind.

None of the ships had signaled that they were engaging or being attacked. They just suddenly went com silent and disappeared from all tracking screens only to reappear a few days or weeks later as drifting, powerless hulks barely able to sustain life support for the unconscious crews who slept within them. Sometimes several ships which had disappeared in the previous months would all reappear together. A number of the female crew members were usually missing. And strangely, missing female crew members from previous ships would occasionally be found among the unconscious crew. None of the crew on any of the ships could recall what had occurred. Several, however– especially the recovered females– reported extremely lucid dreams involving sexual slavery and strange games and contests. The cargo bays on all of the ships were empty and almost all energy had been drained from the ships’ energy banks. But more importantly, all traces of Muridium dust had been removed from the star flux chambers in the ships’ engines.

Muridium was perhaps the most valuable substance in all the galaxy. It was what made regular interstellar flight possible. Prior to its discovery by the Two Thousand Mines Corporation nearly six centuries ago, the fastest starship could travel at only point seven light. But Muridium changed all that. Muridium somehow existed as both matter and energy at the same time, constantly fluxing back and forth between the two states. It took only a small amount of external energy to cause it to completely change state and become pure matter or pure energy. And as it changed state, it would release a tremendous amount of long-wave energy. 

When Muridium was forced into a pure energy state– or a pure matter state– the resultant ionized form was unstable and would quickly revert back to its normal state of balance. As impossible as it sounds, as it returned to its natural state, the Muridium would again release a huge amount of long-wave energy. A pulsed ion engine was developed that forced a contained amount of Muridium dust to rapidly flux between states. The result was a faster-than-light long-wave engine which could drive starships to the edges of the galaxy.

The only place that Muridium has ever been found was on the totally barren planet, Muridius. On the first planetary exploration of Muridius, the strange properties of the dust that was in a thin layer on the surface of the planet was discovered. Shortly thereafter, it was determined that the dust came from the rock layers deep within the core of the planet. Once that was known, the Two Thousand Mines Corporation quickly established two deep mines to exploit this rare resource. Unfortunately, after less than a century of mining, some sort of accident destroyed the mines. No one knows what happened because the resulting catastrophic release of energy destroyed not only the mines, but also the planet Muridius, the star around which it rotated, and the other five planets of the solar system.

Despite decades of searching, no other source has been discovered for this strange material. Muridium is thus the most expensive mineral in the galaxy, and the Tookees have gotten rich– and powerful– selling stolen Muridium on the black market. Where they obtain their Muridium is an open secret. They– or their compatriots– are space pirates that have obviously been attacking ships throughout the Galaxy to steal the Muridium from their engines. The mission of the Marauder was to bring that to an end.

“Mousey? Are you OK?”

Despite looking through half-closed eyes, Mousey recognized the person speaking to her as Julina, an engine room tech on the Marauder. If it had been anyone else, Mousey might have had trouble recognizing them. Almost everyone on board the Marauder looked the same. Everyone had the same light brown skin. All women were approximately 1.7 meters tall. All men were approximately 1.9 meters tall. Everyone had medium brown, slightly wavy hair. Everyone had the same, somewhat thin, athletic body. And everyone had medium brown eyes. Everyone, that is, except Julina. Julina had one blue eye and one green eye. She grew up wearing dark sunglasses... a lot. And she learned to hide in her room and study engineering. Her dream was to go into space and meet other humanoids who were “different.”

That was not going to happen. The Great Galactic War a thousand years before she was born prevented that. Or to be more accurate, the devastation which destroyed one third of the inhabited planets in the galaxy prevented that. After the war, the remaining humanoid life forms decided that their differences were what caused the great war. So, as part of building a new peace across the galaxy, a standard language and culture was adopted throughout the galaxy. Income and wealth inequalities were overcome. And more importantly, genetic measures were put in place which insured that all humanoid lifeforms were the same. There were always mutations, of course, but mutations such as Julina were not allowed to breed unless the offspring was genetically tested while still an embryo to insure that the mutation would not be passed on. Within a few generations everyone looked so much alike that ID chips were implanted at birth to verify identity. Mousey usually relied on the ID reader in her watch to tell her who she was talking to. There were, after all, only so many different ways you could wear your hair.

She sat up and looked more carefully around the room. She recognized six of the other seven women in the room. Mulasi stood head and shoulders above the rest of the women in the room as she did above all the crew. Her muscular naked body glistened in the dim light. Blond hair was an easy identifier. Herana, an Attack Craft pilot, was the only blonde among the entire Marauder crew. For similar reasons, Bethu’s dark skin and Muari’s green skin immediately identified them. Barney, actually Bernadine, was easy to identify by her almost lack of tits and her masculine body with no ass. Boobs, on the other hand, was easy to remember because of her enormous chest. No one knew her real name. Even her official service records referred to her as Boobs... Boobs Beauchamp.

Mousey thought the seventh woman was possibly new to the Marauder. “Who are you?” she asked, pointing at the only totally “normal” woman in the cell.

“I’m Ensign Kolly,” she answered, “Kalina Kolly.”

“Tell me, Kalina,” Mousey said, dragging her chain over to be close to the Ensign. “Why did they choose you?”

“What do you mean?” Kalina sputtered.

“Look around you,” Mousey answered heatedly. “All of us are non-standard. We stand out. But you are 100% in compliance with the GGW Genetic Peace Compliance Act. Why did they choose you?”

Kalina looked down at the floor and said softly, “He was looking for Coleen.”

“The Ghost,” Bethu said. “She’s different. She’s so white she damn near glows in the dark.”

“She can’t help that she’s an albino,” Muari said sharply. Then she added softly, “...any more than I can help it that my skin is green.”

“Or any more than I can help it that I’m a nymphomaniac,” Kalina said even more softly.

The other seven women were now staring at her.

“I knew why they were taking us,” she said. “And I knew that it wouldn’t be as bad for me. I love sex... any kind of sex... even violent or unwilling sex.” She shrugged her shoulders and added, “And why else would space pirates abduct female crew members?”

“Because they wanted the sniffers!” Mousey said sharply. “And sniffers just happen to all be female.” Her voice rose in pitch and volume as she practically shouted, “You’re not a sniffer! The rest of us are... and Coleen was too. Somehow they could tell who the sniffers are and yet they chose you. WHY did they choose you?”

“They sniffed me,” Kalina said weakly. “He got right up in my face and sniffed really hard.”

“Then they should have known that you weren’t a sniffer,” said Mulasi flatly. Her deep voice reverberated slightly in the metal room. “Up close, a Tookee can smell a sniffer, just like we can smell them... or each other.”

“Coleen was hiding under the bed,” Kalina continued. “I pushed her under there and told her to stay quiet. We had been... making love. She loves it when I eat her lily-white pussy. ... And I love it when she squirts as she comes.”

Barney started laughing. “The room was full of her pheromones,” she said as she laughed, “and you had Coleen’s love juices all over your face,” She paused and then said, almost angrily,“You smelled like a sniffer.”

“Nothing we can do about that now,” Mousey said flatly. “Hopefully they won’t realize their mistake.”

“What happens then?” Kalina asked anxiously.

“At best they put you back and get Coleen,” Boobs said quickly.

“And at worst?” Kalina said. Her face now clearly showed her fear.

“They fuck you to death,” Bethu said almost angrily.

“Well,” Kalina said with a nervous laugh, “there are a lot worse ways to go.”

The other seven women were still laughing when the door clanged loudly and two guards stepped into the room. One guard was huge. The other was probably more average size for a Tookee. Whoever the Tookees were, they had been outsiders in the galaxy long enough that there were natural variations in their genetics.

There was an even smaller Tookee in a long gray coat standing with them. His coat and the infoboard he was carrying made him look very much like one of the lab techs on the Marauder. The large Tookee, however, called him “Mufah,” which was an old word for a religious person like a priest. “So Mufah Manu,” the large Tookee said angrily, “what went wrong?”

“I don’t know what went wrong,” the little Tookee answered nervously in a high-pitched voice. “We will just have to repeat everything before they go stale... or whatever it is that happens.”

The larger man glared at him and then the women before saying gruffly, “Come with us!”

Mousey pointed at the chains locking them to the floor and said, “How?”

The large guard glowered at the smaller guard and he hurried over and placed a cylindrical object against the fetters on Mousey’s leg. The band of iron immediately opened. He quickly repeated his actions with each of the other girls.

“Come with us,” the larger guard repeated loudly. The eight naked women fell in line behind him. The smaller guard and the Mufah followed behind them. They walked through a series of small corridors until they came to a large, domed chamber. The floor was a glossy black substance that looked almost like glass but was more likely a highly-polished stone of some sort. Etched deeply into the stone was an eight-pointed star with lines that ran from each point of the star to the middle. Where the lines met in the middle of the star a round cylinder that seemed to be made of the same material as the floor rose up at least thirty meters into the air, almost to the top of the dome. It was also highly polished and came to a blunt point at the top like a pencil that needed sharpening. It looked like there was something carved into the blunt point, but from the floor it wasn’t possible to see what it was. Just below where the stone pillar began to taper there were eight, wide bands etched into the polished stone. The lines from the points of the star each went up the column and terminated at the lowest of the wide bands. Much finer lines connected the bands together and then went on up the taper to the very tip.

“Get on the receivers,” the Mufah ordered in a very weak voice. When no one moved, he added, “... please,” and gestured toward eight, large, oblong rectangles of stone which were positioned so that they were touching each of the points of the star. Mousey recognized the rectangles as the strange tables from before.

Only the top surface of the stone was polished. The rest was left rough. Along each of the sides of the stone block, a number of steel or iron eye bolts had been embedded. They looked old and rusted, but as Mousey had seen with the leg irons, looks can be deceiving.

“Face up or face down?” Kalina asked hesitantly.

“Just get up there!” the guard yelled. Then he added in a more normal tone... for him. “We’ll put you where we want you.”

The eight naked girls clambered up onto the top of the stones. Some sat on the edge of the stone. Some stood. Mousey lay on her back. Perhaps it was the way she was lying on the cold stone, but she couldn’t help but feel that she had just climbed onto a sacrificial altar... and she was the intended sacrifice.

The room was suddenly filled with voices as a huge crowd of Tookees filed in and stood in a large circle around the eight altars... or as the Mufah had called them, receivers. Mousey was surprised to see female Tookees in the crowd. She had never seen a female Tookee before. The females were all naked. Their bodies looked much more standard. Several of them looked pregnant. She grimaced as she thought about what life might be like for her if she were kept as a captive of the Tookees.

A loud, firm, male voice boomed out. “Fellow Tookees,” he began. He pronounced it “Too Kays.” He looked around the room silently and then resumed, “Fellow Tookees, as all of you may be aware, we have had an ejection failure. Tookee Mops One did not open to release the offering. If we cannot release the gift soon, it will spoil. That could create problems for our trade envoys when they go out to sell the dust. So we must repeat the trigger process before the receptors grow cold.”

He looked around again and said, “Child bearers! Heat up the receptors!”

Mousey was confused by his words and became even more confused when six of the women came over to her altar and pushed her flat onto her stomach on the cold stone. Two of them began massaging an oil of some sort into her arms and shoulders while another two concentrated on her buttocks and upper legs. The final two stood aside for a while and then began carefully rubbing her feet with the same oil. It felt wonderful, but Mousey could not help saying aloud, “What is going on?”

“We are heating you up so you will be a better trigger,” one of the women said.

Mousey had no idea what that meant, and decided not to ask further questions. Instead, since she couldn’t do anything about it anyway, she began to relax and enjoy the wonderful massage. A few minutes later, when more warm oil was poured across her back and gently rubbed into her skin, she found herself sighing contentedly. Shortly thereafter she started to moan softly.

One of the women said, “Flip,” and she rolled with their hands as they turned her over so she was face up. The oil had dripped down onto the stone so it was very slick. It had also transferred to her body in the front so the women’s hands slid easily up and down her entire body. 

After a few more minutes, she felt her body being slid further down on the stone so that her hips were at the edge of the table surface. Someone spread her legs slightly and used a soft rope to tie her ankles to two of the iron eye bolts on the side of the stone. The two women who had been concentrating on her feet now began running their hands up and down the entire length of her legs. The two women who had been working on her abdomen, bent in and began suckling on her tits. Another knelt between her legs and began nuzzling into her crotch.

Mousey was now moaning loudly and even shouting out conflicting cries of “Yes! Yes!” and “No more! No more!”

The sixth woman leaned in and asked softly, “Would you like to taste me as Leda is tasting you?”

Mousey didn’t know why she said it, but she answered, “Yes, please! Please let me taste you!”

The woman pulled herself up onto the stone table and knelt facing Mousey’s feet, with Mousey’s arms over the back of her shins near the knee, and her ass directly above Mousey’s mouth. As she lowered herself down, Mousey wrapped her arms around the woman’s thighs and pulled the woman’s cunt tight into her mouth.

It was not the first time that Mousey had eaten another woman. But it was the first time that she thought a woman was spicy. The woman’s fluids had a strange taste to them and burned slightly in Mousey’s mouth. Despite that, both she and the woman riding her face started moving rapidly toward orgasm.

Perhaps it was the burn of the sixth woman’s love juices. Or maybe it was the two women suckling her tits. Maybe it was the two women massaging her legs. It might have been the excellent tongue work of the woman lapping at her love bud. But most likely it was a combination of all of that. In any case, Mousey soon found herself thrashing on the stone table yelling and screaming as she experienced one of the greatest orgasms of her life.

The two women working on her adjusted the ropes so her legs were wide apart and her feet were now tight against the rough sides of the stone. This left her body bowed in an arch with her cunt wide open. The two who were suckling her tits stood and walked away. The one eating her pussy also stood. As she stood up, she said loudly, “The trigger is ready.”

The woman sitting on Mousey’s face tried to rise, but Mousey held her tight to her face. “If you insist,” the woman said softly as she settled back down, “but no biting.”

Mousey couldn’t see the line of men now standing between her legs. So she was unprepared and had to force herself not to bite as the first man rammed his huge prick into her well-prepared cunt. She could feel his hands on her hips as he pounded into her. Each driving thrust from him was matched by a driving thrust of her tongue into the woman above her face. Soon the spicy juice of the female Tookee flowing onto Mousey’s face was matched by the eruptive fire of the male Tookee spurting into her cunt.

This time, despite the volcano within her, Mousey didn’t pass out. The fire increased when the second Tookee began pumping and got even hotter when he erupted inside her. With each Tookee, the fire became more intense. Mousey wasn’t sure how many Tookees fucked her. She knew there were at least five, and the heat in her cunt increased with each of them. She lost consciousness after that. As she faded into blackness, she very carefully closed her teeth on the female Tookee’s clit. It wasn’t a bite, but it was enough that both Mousey and the female Tookee succumbed together to the effects of overwhelming passion.

Continues in

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Wayne Mitchell “The Technician”

[email protected]

See my published books at

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