Twinks in Space: Destination Unknown - Part One - 1. Chapter 1 - The Ulaa-Lah

“Starship Ulaa-Lah,” crackled the deep voice of a space traffic controller on the planet below, “you are cleared for landing. Advance at 0.01 to docking station gamma17-4.” The speaker clicked silent.

“He’s got a cute voice,” Captain Suoki commented to his first mate. A little pug was seated on the captain’s lap.

The communications officer cleared his throat. “Sir, comms are still open, sir.”

“I know,” cooed the captain with a chuckle. He stroked his dog’s wrinkly head. Captain Suoki shot the pilot a wink. “You heard Mr. Sexy-voice over the radio, take us on down.”

The first mate muffled his laughter behind his hands until the comms were closed again, and he rolled his eyes at his captain. “You’re horrible!”

“True,” Captain Suoki replied about himself in an elevated tone, as his pug changed positions on his thighs, “very true, and I probably deserve a spanking.”

The communications officer snorted a laugh.

Captain Suoki turned to his first mate. “Lyoth, please give Froufrou his dinner.” He held up the small dog.

“Hello there, pumpkin,” Lyoth said as he lifted the pug into his arms. Froufrou yawned and his eyes began to close again, but he perked up and his curled tail started to wag when he realized he was being taken to his food.

Lyoth placed Froufrou on the floor by his feet, and the little dog started yapping at him as he put its dinner in a bowl. Froufrou circled him until the bowl hit the floor, and Lyoth stood upright again to watch the animal snarf down its dinner.

Lyoth’s appearance was unassuming and unimpressive. He was not taller or heavier than the average man. His muscles were not excessive, and nothing about him made him stand out in a crowd. Many men on the ship were heavily tattooed and wore multiple piercings, but Lyoth had only a single of each. A thin ring of polished steel adorned his septum, and the inked image of a crystal tree graced the soft Brown skin of his chest.

The ship’s speakers crackled, and one of the deck officers from the bridge declared, “Crew, prepare for landing.”

The Ulaa-Lah required a platform that could accommodate the city-sized starcraft, and with the pilot’s skilled flying, it proceeded to the specified station and docked. “All secure, sir,” he informed Captain Suoki. “Cavitation engines disengaged,” he added. The pilot was stocky and muscular, and much of his alabaster skin was tattooed. A handlebar mustache graced his upper lip.

The communications officer stepped up to the captain’s chair holding the little square microphone that connected to the Ulaa-Lah’s comms. “Sir, here you are, sir.”

Captain Suoki looked up at the man with a playfully hungry expression. The communications officer was skinny and looked young for his age. His 30^th birthday was a month prior, and the party that the captain had thrown him at the Xyphan Beach Multi-Species All-Male Review was quite extravagant.

Captain Suoki winked and clicked the button on the microphone. “We’re here, lads!” crackled his voice through the ship-wide speakers. “Time to restock. I want to be on our way again before this planet’s cycle ends. There are only two hours left of daylight, so let’s get it done!”

He rose from his command chair. Captain Suoki was a barrel-chested hulk of a man with strong arms and legs. His skin was deep Brown and his hair was black. The captain turned to his pilot and ordered, “Recharge the engines.”

“I’ve already begun, sir.”

Captain Suoki gave the mustachioed man a coy smile and stepped up to him. “Well aren’t you just on top of things?” He stroked a dark finger along the pilot’s pale jawbone.

The man blushed. “Oh, sir! I do my best, sir.”

“Mmm, mmm, mmm,” Captain Suoki hummed, “yes, you do indeed!”

The first mate returned to the bridge. The dog was not with him.

“Lyoth, has Froufrou pottied?” the captain asked.

“He’s already pottied and fallen asleep.”

“Good, let’s help with the resupply.”

“Aye-aye, sir.”

Two hours later, the planet’s sun was setting, and the Ulaa-Lah was on its way back up through the clouds toward the blackness of space.

Captain Suoki headed down the heavily perfumed hall that led to his ship’s harem. He was wrapped in a soft robe, and he was carrying Froufrou.

The beautiful men who were not part of the Ulaa-Lah’s crew lived a life of luxury and pleasure. Three entire levels of the enormous spacecraft were designated to the harem. The top floor was the men’s living quarters; the middle floor was an extravagant bathhouse and garden, and the lower floor held dining and dancing options for the men, as well as boutiques, an emporium, and a sprawling fitness center.

“Where’s Thrad?” the captain called out as he entered the quiet garden baths. In his arms, Froufrou huffed in agreement.

Artificial suns moved across the ceiling with a day and night cycle for the rich flora, and the plants were lush.

A deep voice among a cluster of rose bushes replied, “I’m right here!” and a muscly man wearing only a small yellow loincloth scurried into the main entranceway of the harem. His skin was tan and glistening.

Many of the lounging men giggled.

“Does his royal fabness need a cuddle?” Thrad asked Captain Suoki with a pouty expression.

“Take Froufrou,” the captain ordered, and he added to the pug, “go with auntie Thrad.” He extended the animal toward the beefy hunk, who cradled it like a baby, its four paws sticking up in the air.

“Who’s a widdle smooshums?” Thrad cooed to Froufrou in a cutesy voice as he carried the dog over to its cushioned throne.

Captain Suoki could not help but to beam at Thrad and Froufrou. With a sudden dramatic flourish, the captain dropped his robe and revealed his gold glitter trunks and the curly thick black hair that grew across his chest, arms, and thighs. He bellowed, “Bombs away, bitches!” and he launched his burly body into the air.

Pool bois squealed and paddled away as their captain hit the water with a tremendous splash. Cackling laughter and tittering giggles filled the bathhouse. The men adored the captain, and he loved them all.

In one of the quieter alcoves, surrounded by broad citrus trees, Lyoth was with the ship’s prime pleasure-android. The first mate did not often couple with the synthetics aboard the Ulaa-Lah, but after the crew finished reloading the ship, mandroid designate five-NTR-zero-M had given Lyoth a very relaxing massage. The two were now luxuriating in the shade. Both of them were naked. Lyoth was lying in 5NTR0M’s arms.

To the untrained eye, 5NTR0M looked like a human. The organic machines that comprised him were physiologically constructed of cloned tissue and organ samples taken from multiple male donors. For all intents and purposes, 5NTR0M was a man, but he was less than a man in some ways, and so much more than one in others.

The Artificial Intelligence Programming within 5NTR0M called itself Phentrom.

Lyoth closed his eyes, and he sighed as he rested in Phentrom’s arms. “That was a lovely massage. Thank you, Phentrom.” He kissed the back of the synthetic’s hand, and Phentrom ran his fingers through Lyoth’s hair.

The Artificial Intelligence Programming in all mandroids was designed to evolve with their experiences, allowing their synthetic humanoid brains a better understanding of how to provide pleasure to the lovers who coupled with them. The programming’s parameters allowed learning, but emotions were restricted at the codes’ inception.

Lyoth was very fond of several of the other men on the crew, and they entered his mind, but Phentrom smelled good. With his eyes still shut, Lyoth breathed in the scent of the mandroid who held him. Phentrom may have been technically synthetic, but everything about him felt like a man, and Lyoth wanted a man.

He turned his head and kissed Phentrom’s chest. Lyoth felt a twinge in his groin, and he pressed his lips against the mandroid’s skin again. He climbed on top of Phentrom and gazed down at the beautiful man beneath him. Phentrom was exactly Lyoth’s type, strong and slender with skin like porcelain; he didn’t look a day over 20. If Phentrom were not a synthetic, Lyoth would have pursued a relationship with him. However, Lyoth was aware that 5NTR0M had been assembled over 50 years earlier, built by the Dokschin Collective of the planet Acsterona.

“Gods, you’re sexy,” Lyoth breathed. He brought his palms to Phentrom’s chest, and the mandroid looked up into his eyes.

“I’m glad you think so,” Phentrom replied with a smile that made a quiver run through Lyoth. Phentrom’s artificial voice did not sound robotic; he sounded human.

Lyoth did not know how the synthetics were so lifelike; the technology was far above his understanding. To Lyoth, Phentrom felt like a near-perfect man, and Lyoth wanted the synthetic.

He leaned down and their lips met. Phentrom tasted like blackberries, and Lyoth kissed him deeply. Beneath Lyoth’s palms, he felt heat flush through Phentrom’s skin, and the mandroid let out a little moan of pleasure. To Lyoth, Phentrom felt only a hairsbreadth away from being human.

The twinge Lyoth was experiencing grew, and he kissed Phentrom again, twisting his tongue against the mandroid’s. Beneath him, Lyoth could feel that Phentrom was also growing, and Lyoth wanted to taste all of him.

Everything about 5NTR0M was delicious.

After their passion had subsided, the two beautiful men lay together looking up at the deep green foliage above their heads. Neither spoke for a while, and Lyoth thought to himself, Gods, if Phentrom wasn’t a synthetic, he’d be so easy to fall in love with. Several more moments passed, and eventually Lyoth whispered, “Phentrom, I wonder what it would be like to fall in love with you,” and they both fell asleep.

While they rested, the programming inside 5NTR0M activated a new code protocol that was based on his constant interactions with members of the crew. Neither Lyoth nor the mandroid himself knew that the change had occurred, and they slept in peace.