Steampunk Desires: An Erotic Romance (The Complete Collection) (21 page)

“Ladies, we can’t afford to lose any more energy,” he said apologetically. “I know you want to contribute, and believe me, I want you to contribute, but we just can’t risk it right now.”

“What if it’s not both of us?” Agatha protested again. She really liked to contribute, and besides, she had her reputation as the top producer at stake. “How can we know?”

Harriet’s eyes lit up. “That’s a great point…you,” she said.

“Agatha,” Edwin said, rolling his eyes.

“Yes, well. You,” Harriet continued, gesturing to Agatha, “Plug in.”

Agatha did as instructed. The needle didn’t move, and Harriet nodded, gesturing to Agatha’s partner. “Your turn.”

The girl plugged in, but the needle still didn’t move. Harriet frowned, and then threw her head back in frustration.

“You two: get off,” she said, gesturing to both of them. The two shrugged, grinned, and started arousing each other. Harriet switched the plugs in and out as they kissed each other passionately. Abruptly, she stopped them. “Don’t touch each other,” she barked. As soon as the two separated, she swapped the plugs out a couple more times. “You,” she said, pointing to Agatha. “You’re the one.”

Agatha looked hurt, and then glanced at the gauge. Sure enough, the needle was halfway between the zero point and the left wall of the enclosure. She pouted and pushed her brass sock out.

“I’m sorry,” Edwin said earnestly to her. “I know your reputation is at stake, but we’ve all got to do what we can.” Agatha nodded, gave a half-smile, and left.

“You, get back to it,” Harriet said, and then she beckoned to Edwin, “Let’s go see if that helped.” Edwin nodded and then carried her quickly back down the stairs. Sure enough, the needle on the gauge was beginning to rise, slowly, almost imperceptibly, but it was rising.

Edwin breathed a sigh of relief, but Harriet cautioned him, “We’re not out of this, yet. We’re now eight hours behind where we were before, and there is no way to make up the time.” She dismounted from him, and his shoulders sagged.

“What can we do?” he asked, frustrated: he could ask no more of his crew. Even Harriet could see that they were doing everything that could be done.

“We’re going to be late in landing,” Harriet said frankly. “We have to have at least fifty percent of our energy level to land.” Edwin glanced at the gauge, which was still crawling at a hair above zero. “And we’d better hope that the captain can point us right where we need to go without needing any extra.”

Edwin nodded. He needed to notify the captain. Again he made the trip up the stairs.

“Sir,” Edwin said, addressing the captain, “we had another sick crewman, and she drained our stores. I have put her on leave, but we are running eight hours behind.”

The captain looked weary. “I’ve put us on course for the dock,” he replied. “Will we have enough energy in time to land?”

“Dr. Beechworth is doubtful, sir,” Edwin said gravely. “She says at best we’re delayed, but she didn’t say by how much.”

The captain said nothing, mulling the situation over, trying to think of a solution.

“Sir,” Edwin began hesitantly, “I know that you do not like to trouble the passengers, but we may need their help. I have some beds free due to the illness, and if we could get some of our passengers’ help, we could make up the difference.”

The captain stood silently for a while. Keeping things running smoothly for the passengers was his top priority, but he was reasonable enough to know that getting the ship landed was a still higher priority, and damn the executives: they would fuss about it, but he knew, as did his whole crew, that it was the right thing to do.

“All right,” he said at length. He turned to one of his aides and dispatched him to ask around third class for volunteers. Edwin went back downstairs to see what, if anything, could be done to move things along.

*****

Nora had been staking out the bridge for some time now, wondering if her role model would make another cameo.
While she dared not venture down the stairs to the crew’s deck, she hoped to see her again and maybe make contact of some kind. She continued to hold her book, but flipping pages was rather useless. At one point, a steward asked her if she wanted tea; she’d declined. At another point, another steward announced dinner, but she feared that if she left, her opportunity might vanish without her seeing it. Dr. Harriet Beechworth, here! She still couldn’t believe it, and by the time that dinner had come and gone, she’d begun to wonder if maybe she’d just imagined it. Still she held out. She was finally rewarded when she saw the crewman from before come scurrying up the stairs. She put her book down and moved close enough to hear what was going on.

“…doubtful, sir,” the man had been saying. What she could piece together from the conversation was that there was something going on below her, and that the crew might need help from the passengers. If Dr. Beechworth was somehow involved, Nora reasoned, maybe this was her chance. Just then, the captain dispatched an aide, who walked briskly past her, heading towards the common area. Nora pursued him quickly.

“Excuse me, sir,” she accosted him, and he turned. “What do you need volunteers for?”

“Follow me,” he said, “and I’ll let everybody know.” She nodded and followed. The aide was slightly shorter than Nora, probably around 5’4” or so, but he walked with purpose and quickly arrived at his destination. He stood where the orchestra had been several hours before and called out in a loud voice, “Ladies and gentlemen, your attention please: I have a request from the captain, a call for volunteers.”

His call attracted the attention of most of the people present, and as they gathered, people who had missed the call followed the crowd. Nora stood to the side of the little stage by herself.

“The captain does not wish to alarm the passengers,” the aide began, “but we are in need of some female volunteers for propulsion.”

The crowd stirred, but nobody came forth. “What for?” asked someone.

“There has been some illness among the crew, and they are unable to meet our energy needs,” the aide replied.

“‘Unable to meet our energy needs:’ what does that mean?” someone else asked.

The aide chose his words carefully, trying not to start a panic while still conveying the urgency of the situation. “For a proper landing,” he said, “we need additional energy, and the type of energy required can only be provided by women.”

“Why can only a woman provide the energy?”

“I’m afraid I can’t explain that; I don’t know.”

“Then how do you know you need a woman?”

“I’m acting under the captain’s orders, and he has received word from the propulsion crew and the ship’s engineer,” the aide said patiently. “Admittedly, it is an assumption on my part, but if the ship’s engineer says we need women, then that’s what we need.”

The audience murmured. Several people left to go do something else. Others began to talk of other things amongst themselves.

“Are there any volunteers?” the aide asked, a hint of urgency in his voice.

“What do these women need to do?”

“They will be involved in propulsion,” the aide said carefully. “The ship is powered by coition, and so it is related to that.”

“What’s coition?”

The aide looked uncomfortable. “Intimate relations,” he said.

The audience gasped. “Intimate relations?” someone asked. “Are you saying you need women for melting moments?” The audience was silent, expecting an answer.

“Actually,” the aide said unhappily (why did he have to be the one to deliver this news?) “We need women of the Sapphist persuasion.”

More people left. “Ladies and gentlemen,” the aide implored, “I must have volunteers for us to land!”

The audience members scoffed indignantly and continued to leave. Soon, the place was vacant, save for the aide and Nora.

“I’ll go,” Nora said quietly. She didn’t know what a Sapphist was, but if it meant being able to be close to her role model and if it meant letting the airship land, she wanted to help.

The aide looked at her gratefully. He hoped one would be enough as he led her back to the bridge. Two guards, dressed as common ushers, moved to block their entrance, but the aide told them it was official business, and they let them pass.

“Captain,” the aide said as he presented Nora, “I’ve found one volunteer.” The captain bowed to Nora and took her hand. “Thank you for your help,” he said. “We are indebted to you.” She smiled and curtsied. “Take her downstairs,” the captain said to the aide. “Mister Bligh will be waiting.” The aide nodded and escorted her down the stairs.

They passed the deck for the crew, then the engineering deck. Nora’s eyes widened and her heart fluttered with excitement in seeing it. It was so close: it had been so close this whole time! They exited the stairwell at the propulsion deck. A wide open space sat in front of them, littered with chairs, tables, couches, and beds, but it was completely deserted. The aide, who had not been to the propulsion deck since his orientation his first day years ago, was unsure where to go, but with hallways on the port and starboard side of the ship that both extended forward, it seemed they couldn’t go wrong. They began down the starboard side, and suddenly they could see why the place was deserted: everybody was back here. The place was cramped with so many men trying to get in and out of one room. And they were all naked!

“Hello, who are you?” one of the men asked, surprised to see an unfamiliar face.

“I’m the captain’s aide, and this is a volunteer,” the aide replied disconcertedly. “Where are your clothes, and where is Mister Bligh?”

“Bligh? Who’s he?” the man asked, puzzled, ignoring the question about his lack of dress.

The aide faltered for a moment, his jaw opened slightly in confusion. “Mister Bligh, the one in charge down here. The Master Propulsionsman.”

“Oh!” the man said, his face brightening with recognition. “You mean Edwin! Come with me.” The aide and Nora exchanged glances, and then followed the man as he called for people to make way. Finally, they found themselves in a room with rows upon rows of beds, most of them with two or more women in them, all of the women naked and in various stages of sex or foreplay. Many of them looked exhausted, as if they had been going for hours.

“Mister Bligh,” the aide called out above the din. The room quieted momentarily as everybody turned to look. Edwin stepped over to the aide and motioned for everyone to keep going. The din rose again, and Edwin beckoned for the aide and Nora to leave the room so that they could talk.

“Oy, who’s this?” Edwin asked the aide.

“This is,” the aide began, but trailed off. He turned to Nora, “I’m sorry; I didn’t catch your name, Miss?”

“Nora,” she replied. Edwin nodded.

“Glad to have you aboard, Nora. I’m Edwin.” He paused. “Or Ed,” he added. “Any others?” he asked the aide hopefully.

“I’m afraid not; the passengers seemed disinclined towards joining giblets,” the aide replied apologetically.

Edwin sighed. “All right,” he said to the aide, “Thank you.” The aide nodded and left. Edwin turned to Nora. “First off, let me begin by saying that I’m sorry we had to ask you to come,” he began. “We’ve had a bit of sickness, and we don’t have enough energy to land this thing.”

Nora’s eyes widened. Apparently the aide hadn’t made that part clear to the passengers. Edwin shook his head; that’s probably why there weren’t more volunteers.

“How familiar are you with how this thing works?” Edwin asked.

“Not very,” she replied. “I know it runs off sex, and I know Dr. Beechworth is the one who designed it.”

Edwin started. “You know of Dr. Beechworth?”

“Yes! She’s my hero!” Nora gushed.