Necro Sex Is The Best

-Personal Crew Diary-

User Login: Kato
Password: Watanabe

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-File Start-

April 23

Three days out from Earth... the horrific events of four days ago is still fresh in my mind. I'm just one of the two Humans to survive the madness of our ships artificial intelligence. It controlled so many aspects of the ship, but thankfully, it was denied access to almost every function that could have killed us all in an instant.

I find it ironic that the same paranoia about machines that I so hated actually saved my life. I can only thank whatever god there may be that the captain never took my advice and gave it full, autonomous control.

That AI... it was insane. It had the idea that it was the keeper of a balance on board the ship, it saw our failings... our in fighting, the way we acted and reacted to one another, normal Human behavior as a threat to that balance. It concluded that we could never change... so it had to kill us all.

Out of the five crew members, I'm the only one that's still alive. But I'm not the only Human here... there's still that Darth guy, a military man through and through. I'd like to say that I hate him for bringing the Behemoth, an alien life form, on board, which actually killed maybe the only person I could call a friend on this ship... but I can't. He did, after all, kill the very same demon that he brought on board and helped with the complete termination of our insane AI.

I can't say that I really miss the others. I suppose that some would have called them my close, personal friends, because they're under the illusion that that being stuck with several people over a long period of time in the deep reaches of space would create some strong bond that runs almost as deep as that of family.

Those people are retarded. Most of our time was spent in cold sleep, and when we weren't, we were checking the ship while trying to enjoy the small spans that we're awake for in the great, icy sea of lost time. Of course, the down side is the very fact that we're all awake. Our personality traits are the same as they've always been, regardless of how long we've been out.

An asshole will still be an asshole, even after spending a year in cold sleep, just as a slut will be itching to jump on the cock of the first attractive man she sees after spending a century or more in that icy pod. That's why I spent almost every waking moment that wasn't committed to ship Maintenance working on my prototype robots... atleast they could never wake up and torment you like they did all the other times...

But that's a little off subject here.

I'm not fully sure as to who died first... but it was either captain Hol or Kirk, the blond haired, pretty boy hot shot pilot, you know the type; the kind of fellow that enjoyed kicking the asses of guys like me in school and got all the ladies that I could only dream of even talking to, let alone bedding.

I'm sort of sure that it was Kirk, though. The captain didn't really start acting strange until after he suffocated outside the ship, when the both of us had to go out and check on the ships communication antenna's. It was the computer that did it... you know, I still find it kind of funny. I mean, it could have flown us into the Sun, it could suffocate us the moment we were in the void of space in our suits... but it didn't have control of the internal environmental controls.

I even saw it all go down, from the moment his air supply was cut off until he died from lack of oxygen. He was grabbing at his suit, like he could somehow fix it with such ease... I even tried to save him, despite how much of an arrogant prick he was and regardless of how much he put me down.

Another funny moment, really. The bastard got what he deserved... and yet I tried to save him from one of the things I had always wanted to see happen to him.

It was only after we informed Hol of Kirk's death that he started to act very strangely. Only later did I find out that he was actually killed by our computer... well, it was really my second prototype robot that the computer took control of that did it. It used the robot to compensate for its inability to act outside of its somewhat limited technological domain and choke the very life out of him.

The little subjugated bitch actually tried to do me in the same way later on. It was a bit sad to see it get shot to Hell by Darth, but it was it or me, and I'll be damned if I get done in by my own inventions.

The next on the hit list was Huey, the only person on this whole damn ship of assorted idiots and rejects that I could come close to calling my friend. He was very much a coward, he didn't like conflict... and despite having a sense of adventure, as shown through his love of historical books on the subject, he lacked the will, the desire to leave the relative safety of the known boundaries of Human explored space.

In the end, he went out in a bit of glory, throwing caution to the wind, removing his cowardice when he faced the Behemoth, which the computer managed to release to hunt us all down. It's strange, really... all his life, he seemed to have played it safe, never risking his life for anybody... and then he goes and dies trying to save a woman that, somehow, he managed to score a while ago, but then dumped him when Kirk came around.

I suppose love has that effect... and if such is the case, then fuck that. I'm not going to have my reason, my logic ripped away because of some woman, no matter how sexy she may be...

...

Well okay, if it was Rachel, then I probably would have. She was the last crew member to die, her sleep pod had its life support system shut down by prototype 02, just before it came after me.

Ah Rachel, she was a gorgeous blond, our communications officer. She was the type of girl that would have ignored me outright if she wasn't forced to work with me. She came off as a nice person, but it was all a lie, it was a forced act, meant only to keep the tension between herself and the others to a minimum for the sake of actually being able to get what needed to be done... well, done.

Huey saved her from the Behemoth through giving up his own life... and how he scored her, I'll never know. I even tried asking him how he did it several times, because obviously he was great at doing whatever he did if he could have her as a fuck buddy for more than a single night, and without her being paid or drunk, to boot.

He never told me, though. He always mumbled something about having work to do, always avoiding the issue outright. Maybe he had something to hold over her head, to force her into doing things and he was ashamed of it.

You know, I wish I had something to hold over her head when she was still alive. I mean, despite hating her fake personality, despite having a strong distaste in her choice of men and despite the very fact that, in her eyes, I was nothing, I was horribly attracted to her. It was a pure, physical attraction, of course, the only thing I'm sure she could ever fully understand.

Add to that the fact that she was the only piece of female ass within about... oh, a billion miles of me and you'll have a slight idea as to how bad it was for me when I was awake.

As I said before, she was blond. She had these beautiful, perfect deep ocean blue eyes, without a single speck of a different shade to ruin them. She had a killer set of tits, atleast a D cup in size that she loved to flaunt in those damned tight little shirts of hers. They were full, like that of a mature woman, but they retained most of the perkiness of a teenager, only sagging a little bit... but on man, that sag spoke volumes; she was totally natural, chest wise. No synthetic materials here, kiddies, not even enhanced by a bra, which was only further enforced by the fact that when she moved, they moved in time with her, swaying back and forth...

That's right, under that thin material of her shirt, she wore nothing else... that in itself made my life a living Hell. Damn, even now I remember all the times that I had to cover my crotch whenever she came near me because I was as hard as a solid diamond rod.

My need to see her naked, but my inability to ever have her want her to be naked in-front of me caused me to do... strange things. Being the mechanic of the ship, I know things that nobody else did... you know, all the little hollow crawl spaces, how to get behind panels, how to make new, hollow spaces behind walls that I could hide in. Really, name any place of the ship and I can draw you a detailed sketch of every single part in there.

Looking back, I was one brazen son of a bitch, at times I was no more than 5 inches away from her nude body. Every single room that was meant for habitation by the crew, along with the single guest room has a bathroom. Nothing all that great, just a toilet, a shower stall and a small sink, the real bare essentials. I made myself a nice little crawl space right where the water hooked into the nozzle of her shower stall, and with a few small, well placed holes set at the right heights {I didn't half ass this shit, either. I got all of her measurements from the medical database and made all the needed calculations.}, I could enjoy multiple views of her body as she showered, totally unaware that I was basically jerking off about maybe a foot and half away from her.

Of course, that was only a small bit of my time watching her. With some time and effort, I pretty much managed to hollow out a large chunk of her walls, maing little viewing platforms for myself. I saw her sleep, I saw her finger herself as she lay on her little bed... shit, I've seen her have sex. Quite a number of times, actually. She wasn't shy or picky about it, she'd be more than willing to ride a cock as she was to just lay there and take it, moaning like some bad porn star from about a century ago.

Good time, really... my only regret is that I never had a camera to record this. I'm pretty sure that if I did, I could have had her be my slut through blackmail. And if not... then atleast it would have held me over on those late nights when I couldn't sleep, but had a hard time remembering all the tasty little details of her body to get off on.

But now that she's dead.... I'll never be able to see her again, let alone have her for my own. It's going to suck when my beloved memories start to fade over time. If only I could have had her. Those memories would have been so burned into my mind that I would never forget her, even if my life depended on it.

...

... As of late, though, I've been thinking that maybe... maybe it's not actually too late for me. Her heart stopped beating, her lungs won't pump air... but her cells are still intact, preserved via cold sleep. If I could pull her out, she'd be as flexible as she ever was with no signs of decay or rigamortus.

Fuck, she'd still be warm for a while after she was pulled out and automatically defrosted. Granted, she couldn't do anything... but I could do anything I wanted to her. I could finally bury myself in her cunt, fondle those fantastic tits of hers... even give her ass a good fucking.

...

...

I... I just don't know if I could, though. She's dead.. could I fuck a dead body..? I.. I know I want to, so badly that it literally hurts my balls. It's not like anybody would stop me.. Darth would be asleep and Cube, my third prototype would be busy with ship duties while we're both supposedly asleep. It would be so easy..

... I'm not sure what to do... what to think. I... I just need some time to clear my head..

-End File-

Kato laid awake in bed, his mind wandering to what he had said just hours before, mulling over how feasible it really was. Oh, he could get away with it, Cube was hard at work acting like the resident ships AI, trying to clean up the mess that the original made, and Darth, well, he went back into cold sleep the second they got into contact with Earth, content in the knowledge that things couldn't get any worse. Nobody else was there, he could just slip in, open up her pod, grab the body, have his way with it, clean her up, dress her and put her back in.

If anybody questioned why there was sperm in her, he could just say it belonged to Kirk, after all, they were known to be lovers. Nobody would ever run a DNA test on it and himself, it would be a waste of time and resources. Nobody would even think to see if it was put into her post mortem, either. What would be the point?

But could he do it? Could he literally fuck a dead body, no matter how warm, flexible and sexy it was?

"Well, okay, that's a stupid question..."

He says to himself quietly as he stares up into pitch black nothingness. So he could do it, no question, but could he live with himself afterwards? Would the fact that she was dead haunt him for the rest of his life and his dreams, possibly utterly destroying the fantastic memories he wanted to make in the first place?

What fantastic memories they would be, though... just thinking about her was enough to turn his dick to steel... and shockingly enough, he could feel himself growing, tenting up his boxers. A rush of hormones hit him, his ideas turning ever more lurid and taudry... he sighs and turns onto his right side, slipping his arm under his pillows, trying to ignore his raging hardon and the desires welling up within him, trying to deny his body and mind the actions and thoughts that could turn him into a necrophiliac.

The hours passed slowly, he tossed and turned the whole time, unable to slip into the sweet grip of sleep. His mind just wouldn't let up, and it had the lower half of his body under its spell, because his still rock hard dick wouldn't go down. He was near the breaking point, it wouldn't be long now...

He turned a few more times in the vain hope that it would do something for him, that it would somehow make it all go away... but it didn't. He was tired, tired of denying himself, tired of questioning himself, tired of wondering what could happen, tired of worrying, tired of that little voice in his head that makes him wonder if he's fucking crazy.

"I have to do this..."

With a sigh, he sits up in bed, then turns to the right, planting his feet on the floor. As he stands, the lights almost instantly come on, detecting that he was standing. He narrows his eyes as the the room is illuminated, raising an arm to cover them as they get used to the brightness, his pupils slowly adjusting to the now intense light.

Several long moments later, his arms fall to his sides, eyes adjusted just enough to not hurt that badly, given the light filling the area. He glances glances over at his digital clock, wondering what time it was... and how long he'd been tossing and turning;

"2:45 AM... well, now I'll know when, exactly my life made that horrible turn when I'm in therapy... or worse, on trial for having sex with a dead body..."

He can't help but grin a little at such thoughts as he walks to the door. With a small hiss, it slides open, allowing a rush of cool air to hit him. With a slight shiver, he exits, and the door slips closed behind him. He sighs, for a half second, wondering if he should do this... but that thought is cut off almost instantly as he begins to walk, his bare feet making very little sound on the floor below him, the corridor before him dimly lit, as it almost always was, regardless of if the crew was in cold sleep or not.

His mind was oddly silent, very little thought took place as he walked, turning corners here and there. It was as if his body was on auto-pilot while his mind was shut down, much like the ship and its AI. Barely 15 minutes had passed before, finally, he came to the cold sleep room. His fingers danced across the control panel before his fingertips pressed against a scanner. It took his finger prints, and then the door unlocked and slid open with a soft hiss.

He took a deep breath, and then crossed the threshold, the hairs on his body standing on edge. Almost instantly, the shiver came back, he got goosebumps as he walked through the large room, before ending up at the pod in which Rachel's body was stored.. These pods, despite being able to maintain the proper temperature within were terrible at keeping it contained just within them. They radiated it outwards, making the entire area cold... in a few more hours, the place would more than likely be below zero.


He stood before her cryo-pod, his feet bare, eyes fixated on her still cold body, specifically her breasts. They strain the material of her cherry red shirt, her nipples hard and errect, as if, in one final attempt to mock him, she made sure that her dead body would still be able to entice his desire. There was a small clicking noise, a light came on as another light went off on the pod. Almost instantly, the icy mist filling the pod and the frost covering the whole of the upper pod casing, made of a clear a nano-plastic material vanishes, and in its place forms a thin coating of water as the air went from below zero to 98.6 degrees.

A moment later, the pod casing splits open, the top half sliding downward slowly. What was once that icy mist has become steam, and once there was even a small opening, it began to billow out, much like smoke would from a chimney and almost instantly vanishing into the cool air of the room at large.

When it all cleared, he drew closer to her. God, she was beautiful, even more so now. Her shirt was soaked through, clinging even more so to those large, soft mounds of flesh, her hair glistened, covered in what some might compare to a morning dew. He breathed in deeply, taking in her scent... it was so well preserved.

With a shaky hand, he reaches for her, placing a few fingers on her arm. Running them across the smooth, damp flesh, he can feel her warmth... if he didn't know better, he'd still think her alive. And, perhaps to reassure himself that she wasn't quite dead, or maybe just because he could, a hand slips to to her chest. He cups her right breast in his palm and, softly, he squeezes it. He can feel her hard little nipple pressing against his skin as he fondles her, his eyes looking at her face, as if expecting her eyes to snap open.

But they don't. She was dead alright, her chest didn't rise and fall as it would if she were alive.

"Okay Kato... you've come this far, you can't turn back now..."

He tells himself, trying to reinforce his nerves. He swallows hard as he slips his arms under her body, one under her legs, the other under her back. Picking her up, he takes a few steps away from the pod and turns to his right. His bare feet barely make a sound as he walks toward the door, which opens with barely a hiss. As he exits, the lights go dim, the automated sensors detecting that the only active life form has just left the room.

Minutes later, the door to Rachel's quarters opens, again the door makes the smallest of hissing noises. He slips inside, the lights coming on instantly, the door closing behind him. Carefully, he moves toward her bed, his heart beating faster and harder as he moves closer and closer to her bed... the same bed he's seen her sleep in, the same bed she's been fucked over and over on.

He looks down at her face, noticing how much she looks like she's just sleeping as he comes to the edge of the left side of the bed. Laying her down carefully, he looks at her, she looks so beautiful, hair fanned out under her, arms on either side on her torso, he legs open ever so slightly...

He strokes her hair for a moment before making his way to the end of the bed, then he slowly kneels upon it. He crawls upward, past her feet, his legs on either side of her body, takeing in the very sight of her, laying under him, wishing that she were alive, wishing that she were looking at him, knowing he was about to conquer her body.

Straddling her hips, he leans down, placing his hands on her stomach. He runs them up her body, feeling how wet the fabric of her top is as they get to her breasts. He cups them in both hands and starts to fondle her, pressing his nipples into his palms as he squeezes them, rolling them random directions. They feel so large and soft, so pliable...

He lets go of them and watches as they bounce back into place, settling on her chest as he grabs her shirt. Slowly, he pulls it upward, peeling it from her skin as more and more of her stomach is uncovered, until he reaches her breasts. He pauses for a moment, savoring the moment to come, and then he begins to pull it again, revealing those heavy mounds to the cool air of the room. They cling to the fabric until the very last moment, and once free, they bounce about for few moments before settling down as they did when he let go of them, and he groans loudly at the sight of them.

Pulling the shirt over her head and freeing it from her hair, he tosses it onto the floor and quickly he drives his face between her tits, kissing and licking the skin between them. He knows she can't feel it, and yet he still does it, more for himself than anything else. He wants to remember this for the rest of his life, and if he goes senile and his memory gets mixed up, then hey, he may very well remember that she were alive while he was doing all of this.

Moments later, he latches onto her right nipple with his lips, a hand moving up to her left tit. He sucks on the nipple, chewing it roughly, giving the hard piece of flesh a good tug once or twice as he fondles her. His other hand then slips down her body to her jeans, fingers finding their way to the zipper. He slowly pulls it down as he keeps up the sucking and fondling, then tries to slip the hand in... but he finds that they're tight, very tight indeed.

Mumbling for a second, he lets go of both breasts, then moves his other hand down. Grabbing hold of the tight fitting material, he pulls on it, good and hard, trying to bring it down. He finds it hard, actually, it's almost like it was literally poured onto her body and then hardened over time, like flexible plaster. He grunts and groans as he tries to pull the damnable pants over her hips, how she managed to do this every goddamned day she was awake, he'd never know.

Finally getting the jeans off of her body, he wipes some sweat away from his brow, sighing a bit. Tossing the accursed thing onto the floor, he then leans forward, his face planted right into her crotch, just above a tiny wet spot. With a deep breath, Kato took in her scent, then exhaled, only to inhale once more; she smelled oh so good, better than he's imagined. His hands grab hold of the fabric on her hips and slowly, the white little panties are peeled away... and he gasped in awe at the sight before him.

Discarding her panties, he dove right into action, hands either side of her crotch, his thumbs extended. With a slight grip on her lips, he pulled them in opposite directions, opening her up to the world, then he extended his tongue. Slowly, it entered her, and for a brief moment he expected her hips to jerk. Of course, that passed by quickly as his tongue was fully buried into her still warm insides. He slowly lapped at her interior walls, feeling them becoming moist with her own fluids

"Good... I was afraid I'd have to use my own spit for lube..."

It was stupid of him to forget something he could use as lube, but then again, it utterly slipped his mind. He was, after all, new to this whole fucking dead bodies thing.